by Thorpe, K.
“And how are you gonna do that, Josh?”
“I have my connections,” Josh replies.
Kent unloads, “I hope they don’t get as screwed as am I,” as he slams down the phone, leaving a dazed Josh inside his office still holding the phone.
“Hello?” Josh says. He hears dial tone. “Damn,” Josh says, as he hangs up the phone. I need Agent Natan.
Chapter Twenty-one
Josh stands at Natan’s front door and lightly knocks. Please be home. Natan opens the door and, seeing that it’s Josh, pulls him inside quickly. Inside her living room she questions him. “I thought we discussed that you would call from a pay phone with the signal if you needed to see me and we would meet at the designated location. What part of that gave you the most difficulty?”
“I’m sorry…it was urgent,” he says.
“Well, at least you’re arriving within my designated hours, Professor.”
“I need your help, Agent Natan.”
“Uh-oh. And what’s required this time? Sneaking you back into Mexico?” Natan chides.
“The N.S.A. and C.I.A. paid Congressman Bradshaw a visit today.”
“Marsh said they would interview him,” Natan replies.
Josh is visibly upset. “His position on the Tactical Subcommittee…his career…could be in jeopardy.”
“What do you want me to do?” she asks.
“Can you speak with your immediate boss and get them to lay off?”
“Are you kidding?” Natan can’t believe his nerve. “My section chief is even being questioned. I told you…we’re in dangerous territory here. We need to lay low.”
A man sits outside Natan’s house in a van labeled “Mark’s Heating and Cooling.” The van is parked down the street from Natan’s house. Watching Josh and Natan through a telephoto camera, the man snaps photos.
Inside Natan’s living room, Josh tries to muster her support. “There’s got to be
something we can do.”
“Professor,” she begins, “you shouldn’t even be here. I told you, we can’t be seen together. We need to stick with the contact arrangements we discussed or my career may be in jeopardy.”
“I’m just not used to this type of thing,” he confides.
“I understand…” Natan tries to be sympathetic. “Look, I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t guarantee anything.”
The van man adjusts the volume on the listening device he holds in his hand as he
listens with headphones. He watches Natan and Josh through the living room window.
Natan continues, “It seems anyone attached to this is under suspicion now.”
“Maybe we should just tell them everything,” Josh says.
Natan is appalled. “We can’t tell anyone anything right now because we don’t know anything…not the parts we play…not what this all means…if it’s even true…let alone the rest of the proof that vanished with your bag. Who’d believe us? Speaking of which, has it turned up?”
“No,” he replies. “And, my camera was in the bag, with backup photos I took at the ruins.”
“What about the first symbol? Have you deciphered it yet?”
Josh shifts uncomfortably. “I’m close.”
Natan focuses. “Let’s work on those two things and I’ll see what I can do about the congressman, okay?”
“Okay,” Josh agrees.
“One more thing…,” she says. Josh looks at Natan, waiting to hear her request. “Can you run a matrix with my name, Boston, and baseball and see if you find anything?”
Josh is confused. “Why? What’s this about?”
“Just run it and I’ll tell you if you find anything,” she replies.
“Okay.” Josh starts to leave.
“Professor…” Josh turns back to Natan. Her voice is firm, “Please only contact me in the way we arranged.”
“I will,” Josh acknowledges as he heads to the door.
Van man watches Josh exit Natan’s home as he continues taking photos. Gotcha!
Chapter Twenty-two
Baxter sits in his office at his desk across from his yes agent, waiting for his debriefing. The agent gives him the rundown, “She’s had contact with the professor again. I have photos and some audio from the university and Natan’s personal residence, Sir.” He hands Baxter the photos and an audio tape. Baxter shuffles through the photos and stops on one of Josh and Amanda.
“Who is this woman with the professor?” Baxter asks.
“That’s the professor’s research assistant, Amanda Clark, Sir. I took that at the university,” the agent replies.
Baxter remembers. “You’ve mentioned her before.” The agent nods yes. Baxter instructs him to find out what she knows.
“I’m already on it,” the agent replies.
“Good. We’ll add these to the file. Keep ‘em coming.” Baxter smiles with defiance.
“Yes, Sir.”
On another floor of the N.S.A. building, Alice sits in a secret office at a desk watching and listening to Baxter and the agent through a hidden video and audio feed. She watches Baxter on camera talking to his man. “It won’t be long now…and we’ll have her.”
Alice taps on the monitor. Smile, boys. Never underestimate the power of experience.
Chapter Twenty-three
Inside his office, Josh sits at his desk with the encrypted symbol in front of him.
Related articles, decryption texts, and mathematical code books litter his desk. Josh scribbles notes on a page. I’ve got it! It’s so simple. I can’t believe I missed this. Josh pushes clutter away and sets the solved symbol page aside. He pulls a Bible Code software program from his computer.
Josh types the words “baseball,” “Natan,” and “Boston,” as requested by Natan. A matrix pops up with all three words, including the words “Terrorist plot,” “chemical attack,” “stadium,” “fails,” “prophet prevails,” and “in the beginning.” How did you know about this, Natan? He hits the print button.
Amanda knocks on the open door and sticks her head in, startling him. “Need me to grade those papers?” she asks cheerfully.
Josh flips his monitor off. “I’ve already taken care of it.”
Amanda walks into the office. “What’cha working on?”
“Statistical probabilities,” he answers.
“Sounds fun. Need any help?” she replies.
“I’m good. I just need to concentrate.” Josh’s face reveals his need for privacy.
Amanda takes the hint. “No worries. I’ll be in the lounge if you need me.” Josh nods his head and waves her goodbye. Amanda leaves. He gets up from his desk, grabs the printed page and his jacket, and leaves, closing the door behind him. The door lock clicks, latching from the inside. Amanda waits around a corner and watches as Josh leaves.
Josh stands outside a gas station in a phone booth and pulls a piece of paper with Natan’s cell number on it from his pocket. He dials the number and waits.
Natan’s phone rings. She answers, “This is Agent Natan.”
Josh adjusts the tone of his voice. “Ms. Natan, this is Justin at Quick Dry. Just want to let you know that your dry cleaning is ready.”
“Okay, I’ll be in to pick it up later. Thanks for letting me know,” she replies.
Josh hears the dial tone and hangs up the phone, leaves the phone booth, and gets into his car.
Thirty minutes later, inside a vast parking garage, Josh waits in a designated space inside his car. Natan emerges from the shadows, cautiously glancing around. She opens the door and gets into the car. A brief silence surrounds Josh as he sits with Natan.
Natan breaks up the silence. “Glad to see you’re listening to my requests. What’s up?”
Josh hands Natan a paper with the matrix listing the finding he had in his office. “Are you gonna tell me why I found your name and all of this in a matrix that you
led me to?”
Natan reviews the page. “This is unbelievable.”
&nb
sp; “Would you please fill me in?”
Natan sees his impatience for the first time. “Sorry,” she replies. “I was involved in preventing a terrorist incident several months ago. I can’t believe you found this in the Code.”
“What terrorist incident? I didn’t hear about anything in the news.” Josh begins to draw his own conclusions.
“It wasn’t in the news. A group of terrorists targeted Boston about six months ago,” she informs him.
“My parents live in Boston,” Josh says, appalled.
Natan tries to reassure him. “We stopped the incident.”
Josh is visibly upset. “What incident?!”
Natan continues, “Al Queda operatives succeeded in rigging Fenway Park with a chemical bomb…but we found it in time.”
“My…my dad has season tickets to the Sox. We were waiting outside that day. They barricaded the street and told us it was a gas leak,” he mumbles, nearly inaudibly.
Natan shakes her head no.
Josh continues, “How did they stop it?”
“A hunch,” she replies.
“The N.S.A. works on hunches?”
“I led my team there.”
“You stopped this, Agent Natan?”
“My team and I stopped it, Professor.”
“My God. Six months ago is when I uncovered the Code information,” he says.
“What does that mean?” she asks. Josh reaches into a file and hands Natan another page. “What’s this?” Natan asks.
“I decoded the first symbol…,” he says.
“And??” Natan sees a glimmer of hope that answers might emerge.
“It means we are in the beginning…just like the word Chalal in your dreams.” Josh grabs the matrix page. “And just like it’s listed in this matrix.”
“Beginning…of what?” she asks.
“Don’t you see? It’s all true…the beginning…of the end.” Josh’s words engulf both of them.
Chapter Twenty-four
Inside Josh’s university office the door lock turns, clicking as it unlocks. The door opens slowly. Amanda is holding the office key in one hand and a backpack in the other as she enters Josh’s empty office. Putting the key in her pocket, she looks around cautiously and heads over to Josh’s desk. She sets the backpack on the floor and turns on the computer, hitting the print button to print the pages he was working on. She reviews the information on his computer as she waits for the printed copy. What have you gotten yourself into?
She looks at the pages and books spread over his desk and begins flipping through papers and opening the desk drawers, then looks down at her watch. “What else have you got for me, Josh?” She sits down at Josh’s computer and begins examining computer files. Amanda opens and closes several documents, stumbling onto a file labeled “Agent Natan,” which she opens.
The file lists Natan’s personal information, including her name, address, birth date, parents’ information, work history and schedule. Amanda prints the information.
Almost everything I ever wanted to know about you, Agent Natan.
Her task complete, Amanda turns Josh’s computer off, gets up, and grabs the printout. She puts the printout into her bag and leaves, shutting the door and locking it behind her.
Inside Marsh’s office Agent Natan stands in front of Marsh’s grand desk. “Thank
you for seeing me on such short notice, Sir,” she says.
Without looking up Marsh acknowledges her, “What can I do for you, Agent?”
“Sir, have you heard that the N.S.A. and C.I.A. have questioned Congressman Bradshaw?” she asks.
“I did hear something to that effect,” he replies, his accent thicker than normal.
“Is he being implicated in this, Sir?”
Marsh looks up at her. “Not that I know of.”
“Could you find out for me, Sir?”
“What’s your tie to this, Agent Natan?”
“Just a concerned voter for my representative, Sir.”
“That’s not really your district.” Natan looks away as Marsh continues. “Right…well, Kent is a friend of mine and I’m concerned too. I spoke to the Director of the C.I.A. and to Baxter on his behalf. Everything that could be done has been done, Agent Natan.”
“Good to know, Sir. Thank you for taking the time.” Natan starts to leave.
“Agent Natan.”
Natan stops, swinging back around. “Sir.”
Marsh continues, “You’re getting awfully close to the edge of that cliff, aren’t ya?”
“Sir?”
“Watch yourself, Agent Natan.”
“Yes, Sir.” Agent Natan leaves the office, wondering to herself just exactly how much room she has to maneuver on the tight rope she knows she’s walking.
Inside Baxter’s office, in a hidden compartment, a video feed shows Agent Natan leaving Marsh’s office. Through the monitor the observers see Marsh sitting at his desk staring at his empty doorway.
Chapter Twenty-five
Josh sits at his desk in his office at home in the late evening with binary code information spread in front of him. He blusters, “Come on! I found the binary code. Hell, I even deciphered the first symbol. It’s binary code…how hard can it be?” Josh looks up to God, “Help me out here.”
Inside Natan’s house, she sits at her computer tapping her fingers atop a free space on the keyboard. She is in deep thought as she scans the screen. Her screen shows a search engine with Bible Code queries. Natan clicks on a link that reads “SCIENTIFIC PROOF THAT THE BIBLE CODE DOESN’T EXIST.” Professor Sails would disagree.
An article dedicated to Dr. Simon Berk appears on screen. Natan reads aloud, “If
Nobel prizes were awarded in mathematics, Dr. Simon Berk, a renowned professor in his field, would certainly be in the forefront to receive one…” She scrolls down the article, getting to an email and phone number for Dr. Simon Berk. Why aren’t Nobel prizes given for math? Natan grabs a pen from her desk, hesitates, and then jots down Dr. Berk’s contact information.
Back in his home office, Josh looks around at the pages spread over his desk. He slowly touches one page, then another, then another. The binary code has to be on every symbol. I know it. What is the transcendental congruency? Josh leans back in his chair. He watches a tiny fraction of a light beam stream in through the window as it dances across his glass paperweight.
Josh lunges forward, “That’s it!” he exclaims. He begins frantically typing on his computer, inputting miscellaneous binary code information as his mind races a million miles a second. If I input the differentials, then…the standard binary code decryption should read this code as standard. He watches as the computer begins deciphering the binary code. He exclaims, “Yeah!! It worked!!” Josh jumps from his desk, exhilarated, tossing pages into the air. He begins reading the deciphered information. His smile fades in disbelief. What?! This can’t be right. Josh slumps back down into his chair.
“Oh my God,” he utters to himself as he continues reading. “Agent Natan…She can’t know. She can’t find out about this.” Josh collapses with his head in his hands. My God.
Part IV
Trust
Chapter Twenty-six
September 2, 2006
On a bustling afternoon on the crowded streets of D.C., Natan carries a bag and documents as she maneuvers through the people on her way home. A tough, worn man approaches, his arm sporting a tattoo of red angels’ wings. His completely shaved head accentuates his dead, hollow eyes, reinforcing the darkness within him. As he nears Natan, she winces and touches her forehead with her free hand. Ah…my head.
The tattoo man bumps into Natan, surprising her. She drops a page of her documents.
“Uh…ex…excuse me,” she mumbles in pain. Attempting to shift out of the man’s way, Natan’s bag strap becomes entangled with him.
The tattoo man replies, “Looks like we’re caught…”
Natan attempts to free herself, maneuvering her gun and papers away fr
om the man. She sees the tattoo and then a flash as she is transported elsewhere.
In the cloak of night Natan sees a museum-esque building, its doors open, calling to her. She watches from a distance as the out-of-breath tattoo man rushes into the building. She enters with him, aware that her body is not with her. On his left he passes an open mini-mosque area with Islamic décor, including several Muslims kneeling and praying. On his right he passes an open mini-synagogue area with Jewish décor, including several Jews sitting and praying. He is confused by the setting. In the center, off in the distance, there is an open mini-Catholic church with Christian décor. Each section remains separate but with a fluidity linking them all.
Tattoo man maneuvers his way to a confession booth in the center of the Catholic
scene. He opens the curtain and sits down. The curtain remains open. Through the metal divider tattoo man begins his confession, “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It’s been 6 years since my last confession.”
The priest answers through the metal divider, “My son, state your Act of Contrition and then confess your sins.”
“Oh my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended thee…I detest my sins…” Tattoo man begins to cry. “I detest my sins…forgive me Father for I have…” He rubs his eyes with one hand. “I…I killed a woman, Father. A woman of God.” The priest does not answer him. “Did you hear me, Father? Please don’t make me say it again.”
“Murder is a mortal sin, my son,” the priest replies.
The tattoo man almost pleads. “I had to, Father. My God demanded it of me. I…I needed to tell someone…someone who can help me own this…secret.”
The priest asks in confusion, “You feel that God demanded this of you?”
“Am I forgiven, Father?” tattoo man asks in desperation.
