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THE CODE

Genesis – Book I

A NOVEL

Written By

K. Thorpe

Copyright © 2006 K. Thorpe

All rights reserved.

Cover concept by K. Thorpe

Cover photo by Michelle Folmar

Cover design by Jenny Spolnik & Emma Birath

Visit the website at:

www.thecode2012.com

First printing:  July 2007

Published by:

For my inner child…may you be cradled in the love

and safety that I now know how to give.

Acknowledgments

First, I’d like to pass along my thanks and appreciation to the readers of this work.  May you enjoy it and continue to share the experience as the excursion continues.  To Emma, thank you for being in my life and sharing this with me.  And, much appreciation for your contribution to all of the art work in this book, including the cover.  To my mom, I thank you for all of your support and for believing in me and this dream.  To Mich, my good friend, our trip to Mexico helped begin this journey.  Thanks for sharing it with me and capturing it digitally…my greatest gratitude for your contribution to the cover.  To my editor, Jessica Gribble, thanks for all of your hard work on this project.  You are the best!  To Jackie, John, Krystal, Kamelia, Heather, Yessica, the rest of my family, and Dr. B.G., I thank you all for your faith and support.  It means the world to me.  To Super Jenny, thanks for swooping in during the last moments and saving the day.  Bravo!  And, finally, thanks to all those researchers, both past and present, who sought to uncover the truth about the hidden biblical codes.  Proponents and opponents alike fuel the flame of knowledge that contributes to each of us individually and to all of us in our collective humanity.

Inspired reader,

This is the first book to be released in The Code series with additional works scheduled for release over the next five years, through to 2012.  It would be my honor to share and discuss behind the scenes components of this work with you.  Please feel free to email me at:  kthorpe@thecode2012.com and/or visit the webpage: www.thecode2012.com for additional information, updates, and discussions available about this work and future works in The Code series.  I can also be available for individual meetings with book clubs or groups that elect to read this work.  If you are interested in this, please get in touch through the email listed above to discuss scheduling options.  I appreciate your feedback and look forward to hearing from you.  Happy reading!

THE CODE

Genesis – Book I

A NOVEL

Uncovering Fact in The Code:

Certain “codes” have actually been found in biblical text and the debate over the validity of these codes continues today along with ongoing research on the subject.  Certain components of miscellaneous background information on the Bible Code, the ancient Mayans, and other ideas listed in this text are based on factual and historical information available on the topics.  However, all characters in this novel are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.

Prologue

Does God exist?  In our pursuits of truth, is humanity seeking validation of our own existence through the shared existence of a deity, albeit the possibility that such a being is simply one of our own creations?  The quest to seek God has existed since the dawn of man.  Humankind’s conceptualization of a higher being and our longing to understand ourselves and the universe has fundamentally ingrained this pursuit, driving our need for something greater…that something outside and beyond us that continues to captivate our minds and our souls today.

Does our faith render us pious or gullible?  Without tangible proof of the existence of God, relying solely on faith is what the world has become accustomed to and what science has used as fodder.  History has not lacked in attempts to uncover such evidence, but has rendered the quest itself inconclusive.  Or has it?

Has the evidence of God’s existence been held within the pages of the oldest holy text bestowed upon us, the Bible, all along?  Does this holy book contain messages…direct communications from the deity for whom we have so longed to know and understand?  And, if true, what does this mean for us?

Part I

The Beginning

Chapter One

June 21, 2006

The early afternoon sun stretches across the southern Mexican sky, gently caressing the glistening peaks of waves as they reach out across the Pacific.  Each individual wave greets the light, shimmering brilliantly against the backdrop of deep blue.  Once joined together, the collective waves succumb to the end of their journey, rushing against a rock-laden shore with the finality of their cause.  Clusters of a rocky shore outline high cliffs, the largest of which houses a major altar site of an ancient Mayan ruin.

Set back several hundred feet from the cliff’s edge, nearly fifty stone stairs lead to the top of a speckled stone magnificence.  Remaining skeletal pillars of the ancient feat line the outline of the perimeter, hovering perpendicular to time-enduring floor etchings.  The gray of the ancient stones sits gently against the brilliant blue of the sky as it abridges heaven, merging into the horizon, mixing with the reds and oranges of the hot summer sun.  Atop the highest point of this monument, the sound of the waves’ fulfillment of their destiny echo in only a whisper of a soothing ocean lullaby.

A half-mile away, thirty-five-year-old Professor Josh Sails, a handsome, eccentric iconographic mathematician with Maryland University, wears a Hawaiian shirt and straw hat, with sunscreen dolloped on the top of his nose.  He hikes along the coast of Tapachula, Mexico, shouldering a backpack carrying his research equipment.   His blonde hair, dancing above his turquoise eyes, outlines his chiseled features.  Josh’s eyes mirror the two sparse puffy white clouds rolling above as they unthreateningly tease the sun.

Josh looks ahead and sees the Mayan ruins in the distance in front of him.  He pulls a G.P.S. tracker from his bag, stopping to check his progress.  A Spanish sign looms in the distance in front of the ruins.

Government Property:  No Trespassing.

Josh mutters under his breath.  “Let’s hope your brother’s gear works, Amanda.”

He looks down at his watch.  I’m cutting it close.  Who knew it would take this long hiking in?  The G.P.S. tracker displays his coordinates with a latitude of 14.78333 and a longitude of 92.38333.  Josh closes in on the ruins.  Their magnificence fills him with wonder. Only a few hundred yards away from his destination, he continues, barely able to contain his anticipation.

Reaching the ruins he drops his gear and pulls a water bottle, map, and a single page with Hebrew text covered with handwritten translation notes from his bag.  He folds the noted page and puts it in his back pocket.  Josh puts the G.P.S. in his bag, but neglects to turn it off.  The G.P.S. system light flashes a glaring red as if revealing his mistake.

Sweating, he wipes the wetness from his brow with his shirt and gulps a drink of water.  Josh looks out across the expansive sky, taking a few brief seconds to relish the beauty before he puts the bottle back into his bag.  Those coordinates were right on the money.

Josh looks up at the bright blue sky, focusing on the two pillowy white clouds that seem to be following him, watching from afar as he inches closer to his destiny.  He retreats into a memory from childhood as he watches the clouds move rhythmically with the gentle tropical breeze.

A six-year-old Josh and his mother, twenty-nine-year-old Evalyn Sails, lie on the lush green grass looking up at the clouds in one of Boston’s central parks near their home.  Resembling a blonde Jackie O, Evalyn’s beauty was second only to her fundamental integrity.

“What do you see, Josh?” she inquires of her only son.

Josh points at the cloud farthest from them.  “I see a fire engine, Mommy.  Can you see it?”

Evalyn squints in the sun.  “I think I can.”

She points to a closer cloud on the horizon.  “Look at that one, Joshy.  I see a bunny.  Can you see it?”

Josh looks, his face furrowing intently.  “That’s not a bunny.  That’s a dinosaur.”

Evalyn’s face softens as any mother’s would at her son’s tenacious ability to convince.  “Well, maybe it is.  The most important thing to remember is that if you look hard enough, you’ll always find something hidden just beneath the surface…and not just for clouds, but for everything there is, Josh.”

Josh looks at his mother quizzically. “Did God make the clouds, Mommy?”

Evalyn looks down at him thoughtfully. “I like to think so.”

Josh squints at his mother. “Where is God?”

Evalyn stretches her hand out, shielding her son’s eyes.  “I think he’s everywhere.”  She knows that having a child is one thing and raising that child to be a contributor to the world is another thing entirely, requiring discipline, encouragement, and free thinking.

Josh cocks his head slightly, edging out of the protective shade of his mother’s hand to look her in the eye.  “How do you know?” he says, wanting to understand.

Evalyn touches her heart, tapping it softly. “I just feel him inside of here.”

Josh touches his heart. “I don’t feel anything in there.”

She tussles Josh’s hair playfully.  “One day you will, son…I promise.”  Evalyn smiles with a quiet knowing.  He will definitely be a contributor.

Heat-soaked by the Mexican sun, Josh blinks himself back to reality, as his eyes follow the stone steps to the top of the ruin.  He grabs his gear and walks up the stone staircase, heading into a hollowed-out square ruin of the site.  Josh hesitantly steps inside, looking around in disbelief as he gets his bearings.  He walks to the highest point of the roofless ruin as sunlight streams in from all sides.  Sparse walls and ancient stones surround him as he wanders through the historical structure.

Looking around, Josh scans the area.  It would be in the centermost point, to

access both the sunrise and the sunset.  He comes across a slightly raised stone area 6.5 feet in diameter in the center of the highest point of the altar structure.  Josh falls to his knees, touching his heart as his eyes well up with tears.

Trying to collect himself, Josh looks at his watch through unsteady hands.  It reads 12:55 p.m. and 35 seconds.

Josh coaches himself aloud.  “Get it together.  No time to spare.  No mistakes.  We may not be able to wait another six years to get the data.”  He takes a breath. “Come on, Josh.  Make it happen.”

Still kneeling, he wipes the dust and dirt from a circle engraved in the stone floor.  It reveals a chart with thirteen segmented pieces listing various symbols resembling unusual hieroglyphics and shapes.  In the center of the circle lies another smaller circle with engraved symbols: a line over a shell over two dots and two lines.

Josh stands up, pulling the translation page from his pocket.  He takes a few steps back and mentally reviews both the circle images and the translation page.  Josh is beside himself, mumbling aloud, “2012.  I just can’t believe it.”  He looks at his watch.  I’ve got less than 5 minutes.

Josh yanks a digital camera, a piece of black charcoal chalk, and a few pieces of white art shading paper from his bag.  He places the charcoal and paper on the floor just out of the way.  Josh readies the camera and hastily clicks seven or eight close-up shots, maneuvering just slightly between each shot.  Let’s hope at least one turns out.

He quickly places the camera back in his bag and grabs the charcoal and paper from the floor.  Josh kneels on the ground, placing the paper over the smaller circle as he shades the symbols carefully with the charcoal chalk.  He spends more time on this as he tries to shade every detail, switching to a blank page when he completes the one he’s working on.  Josh stops and reviews the circle as a mild anxiousness begins to take hold. Where is it?

Josh runs his free hand around the circle. He feels a lone symbol etched in a 1 inch by 1 inch square in the corner of the larger circle.  Josh uses his finger to clean it off and accidentally depresses it as he rubs back and forth.  A 1 foot by 1 foot square rises up from the ground near the edge of the large circle.  It’s the marker!  Still holding the shadings, Josh steps onto the marker.  He looks left, then right.  Now, is it with the sunrise or with the sunset?  Josh eyes his watch.  It reads 12:59 p.m.

The sound of a faint but loudening siren emerges in the background from the approaching Mexican military.  Josh jerks to attention as his feet slip from the square.  How do they know I’m here?  Realizing his mistake, Josh looks in his bag.  “Damn!” he shouts.  He sees the streaming red light and pulls out the G.P.S., quickly shutting it off.  Josh jams it back in his bag with frustration.  Not now!

In the distance, a rugged Mexican military vehicle carrying two hardened armed Mexican soldiers in camouflage military fatigues races along the coast toward the ruins with sirens blaring.  The two pillowy clouds above shade the trail of dust that follows them.

Inside the ruin, tension continues to envelop a stiffening Josh as he looks around frantically. Gripping several of the shaded pages stacked together and the chalk, Josh steps back onto the square, shifting his feet first toward the direction of the sunrise and then toward the direction of the sunset, vacillating between left and right.

“East or West?  Which is it?  Think, dammit!” he says aloud.  Josh stops to his left.  It’s the center…the doorway to the beginning and end of the sky.  Josh places his feet facing the center of the circle.  Here’s hoping.  He looks down at his watch, gripping his thumb between his four fingers as he holds the pages.  Ten seconds.

The seconds slowly tick off his watch.  Josh grips the blank side of his paper as he stands still, hovering in the square over the larger circle.  His eyes remain fixed on his watch as droplets of perspiration fall from his forehead.  A droplet hits his watch, splashing on the digital time display.  Shaking the wetness from his watch, he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and waits anxiously, his thumb now free.  Five seconds.

The clock reads 1:00 p.m., as an alarm beeps in unison with the display.  The sun shines directly onto the first piece of the segmented circle, highlighting one symbol of the many in this particular section.  An elated Josh bellows “Jackpot!” as he frantically flips through the shaded pages.  He finds the page with the matching segment and he circles the symbol highlighted by the sun.

Thirty seconds later the sun moves to the second segment, highlighting another symbol of the many in this particular section.  Josh finds the next page and circles the symbol as the process continues.  He glances at his feet to ensure that they don’t move even a millimeter.  This will show them the truth.

Outside of Josh’s frantic, elated world, the Mexican soldiers, ready to ambush, rush from the vehicle toward the stairs where Josh entered.  Holding a G.P.S., one soldier points to footprints in the dirt.  The soldier speaks in Spanish to his comrade, “I’ve lost the signal, but someone has definitely been here.”

Sweat streams from Josh’s face as he waits, continuing to circle symbols as each is revealed.  He’s reached number five of thirteen.  Come on!  I have to get these…I have to.

Outside the entrance, the second soldier grabs a handheld radio from his belt and hastily speaks through the radio. “Base…we’ve lost the signal, but there are tracks near the entrance of the ruins.  How do we proceed?”

A cracked voice responds from the radio. “Command says that the last coordinates we received were inside the ruins.  He couldn’t have gotten far in only a matter of minutes.  Check inside.  If you locate him, you are to apprehend him immediately.”

The Mexican soldiers ready their weapons, rushing up the stairs into the ruins.

As they enter the site, the soldiers see Josh writing with his hand supporting the pages he holds as he stands in the square.  They yell at him in Spanish.  Josh ignores them, scribbling frantically, just completing number seven of the thirteen symbols. He tries to continue when the soldiers confront him.

“Halt! Put your hands up.  You are trespassing on Mexican Government property,” the larger, more aggressive-looking soldier says to Josh in Spanish.

Josh quickly squats down and grabs his pack from the floor, jamming the pages into it.  Getting up, he tosses the backpack over his shoulder as he slowly raises his hands.  Remaining in the square the entire time, he glances to his side to get a full view of the circle.  The code is no longer visible.  The sun fades from the spot and the entire circle is now shaded.  Josh is devastated.  “It’s gone,” he says under his breath.

He returns his attention to the angry Mexican soldiers.  Speaking Spanish, Josh attempts to explain himself, “My name is Professor Josh Sails.  I am an American.  I’m here doing research for my university.”  He reaches down to his backpack.  “Let me get my documents.”

Josh tries to reach into his bag but the soldier holding the G.P.S. won’t allow it. “Hands up!  One more step and I’ll shoot!”  The soldier points his gun with more certainty.  “You are under arrest!”

Josh quickly puts his hands back up.  The soldiers rush up to him, grab his backpack, toss it to the floor, and then forcefully push him against a lone stone pillar.

Confused and anxious, Josh reverts back to English.  “Careful with that!  There’s

expensive equipment in there.”

The second soldier pats him down, finding the translation page in Josh’s back pocket.  The soldier pulls out the page and looks at it.  Unable to understand the Hebrew or the English, he crumples up the page and throws it to the ground.  Josh tries to reach for it, but his captivity won’t allow it.

Josh speaks Spanish again. “You’re making a mistake.  I need that! Please, it’s a part of my research.”

The soldiers ignore his pleas, grab his arms, and handcuff him.  The first soldier picks up Josh’s backpack as they escort him from the ruins.  As the soldiers lead Josh down the stairs, the stone square slowly recedes in the distance, as if nothing and no one had disturbed its rest.  The soldiers pull Josh down the final few stairs, shoving him into the vehicle.  Josh looks up to the top of the ruins.  So close.  Will it be enough?

Chapter Two

Thirty-three-year-old Agent Katherine Elizabeth Natan sleeps on her couch, a blanket draped around her, as the early morning sun makes its way through her house.  A gentle stream of sunlight glides delicately through the numerous windows in the small, suburban home, highlighting its crisp, clean décor.  A minimalist, Natan’s 550-square-foot cottage style home was the perfect fit for her…just big enough for her and a few necessary furnishings.  No frills, no bills…the motto she quotes to her rare guests.

The warm sunlight makes its way across her face, radiating the rich darkness of her hair against her soft, olive skin and beautiful feminine features.  Natan’s beauty hides the hardness of her early life, the internal scars cloaked by external loveliness.  Only her eyes give any flicker of the detail of her past pain…and only to those who know what to look for.  Beyond the attractiveness and the scars lies the hidden, missing piece of her soul she still searches for, wondering to herself if it really is a part of her or simply an extension of herself that she’s mistakenly sought.  Either way, the vacuous hole keeps her searching, stirring the restlessness within.  Natan’s closed eyes flutter in R.E.M. as she dreams.

Inside her mind, the rich blue sky surrounds Natan as she hangs suspended in the air.  She looks around her and above her, watching as the blue stretches out for what seems like forever.  She glances below her, noticing only a collage of clouds creating a hammock beneath her.  In the distance she sees a blinding white light. A door emerges from the light.  It stands, hanging in the air unsupported in front of her with the blue sky as its backdrop.  The lone white door drifts closer.  Natan watches, stunned and intrigued.  As the door inches closer, Natan struggles to back away, but she cannot.  She watches in shock as it nears, slowly opening to an even brighter light within.  The voice of God resonates loudly as the light intensifies: “Chalal.”

Natan awakens, startled.  She looks around the room to get her bearings.

The same one again?  Chalal. What is chalal?  Sitting up on the couch, she half squints at a clock on the wall across the room.  The clock reads 8:50 a.m.

Natan groans to herself. “Uhh!  Not again!”  She rushes from the couch, bumping her leg against the table as she gets up.  “Ahh!” she exclaims as she grabs her leg, rubbing it as she quickly rushes out of the room.  There’s no way I’ll get there in 10 minutes.  I can hear Agent Knight already.

Natan stands in the doorway of her bedroom in her mismatched bra and underwear with one leg in her slacks and her shirt halfway on.  While trying to put her other leg in her pants, she nearly falls over.  Maybe chalal means really, really late.  Natan hastily buttons her shirt with one hand as she uses the other to brush her hair.  If the N.S.A. could see me now.

Chapter Three

A completely dressed and collected Agent Natan enters a busy central office of the main headquarters of the N.S.A. in Washington, D.C.  Funding for the agency has come a long way since 9/11.  The new paint and furnishings help to diminish the government feel of the building.  Varieties of plants, feng shui colors, and sun-inspired lighting shield reinforced concrete walls designed to withstand bomb blasts and shelter hidden corridors leading to weapons and intel rooms that harbor U.S. secrets.  Natan smiles to herself each time she enters the new offices.  Makes you almost feel like you’re here for a yoga class.

Natan wears a dark pantsuit with a white shirt, standard government attire, with a government issued gun holstered at her side.  Natan’s gun is the only jewelry she needs.

“Is that fresh?” Natan asks a female office worker as she approaches the coffee

area.  The woman shakes her head no.  Natan pours herself a half cup anyway and approaches the desk of her partner, twenty-nine-year-old rookie Rob Knight.  His boyish good looks are accentuated by his charming smile and confident air.

“This really shows desperation, doesn’t it?” she says to Knight as she takes a sip.  Natan cannot contain the usual grimace that accompanies the first sip of the black coal prepared for everyone by Knight himself.  “It’s better than nothing, I guess, and I need all the help I can get this morning,” she justifies to her traumatized taste buds.

Knight watches Natan’s expression, attempting to use it to judge this morning’s cup.  It doesn’t look good so far.  At least my coffee sticks to your ribs.  Knight shakes off his first failure of the morning. “Agent Natan, don’t get too cozy with that spectacular cup of coffee.  Your presence was requested upstairs a half hour ago.  What’s going on with you anyway?  This is the third time this month you’ve been late.”

A suave Natan answers, “Don’t stress, Knight.  I’ve got it covered.  Just need a new alarm clock…that’s all.”

“Yeah.  Well, as your partner, I hope you’ll be better at covering me than at keeping your appointments lately.”

Natan’s over the lecture. “Okay already.  What’ve we got?”

Knight gets down to business. “Some math professor was apprehended in Mexico at a government-protected Mayan ruins site.  He claims he was doing research.”

“Was he?” Natan asks.

“Looks like it.  This professor must know some important people for it to fall in the N.S.A.’s lap.”

“Know how it got here?”

Knight shrugs his shoulders, “I honestly don’t.  This entire thing is completely outside agency protocol.”

“Have they extradited him yet?”

“They’re refusing to…thus the problem.”

Natan heads out the door.  “This should be interesting.”  Then she realizes that Knight isn’t following.  “Are you coming or what?” she asks.

“Section Chief Marsh requested you alone.”

“That’s odd that he didn’t request both of us.”  Natan jokes, “Maybe the powers that be have realized that you’re still a little green around the edges and need more development in the paperwork department.”

“You never know, Agent Natan. With your consistent inability to get to work on time, I may not be the one stuck behind a desk.”

“The day I’m assigned to a desk will be the day you make a decent cup of coffee.”

Knight laughs.  “It could happen.”

“Right, so can world peace.”

Agent Natan starts to leave.

“Agent Natan…” Knight calls after her.

Natan stops. “Yeah?”

“Work on your timing, will ya?  I need the best backup I can get.”

Natan winks at Knight. “You’ve already got it, and you know it.”  Agent Natan walks out into the hallway toward the elevator.  She starts to sip her stale coffee again but changes her mind.  She grimaces from the memory, and, still holding the cup, drops it down to her side.  At least he’s a good shot.

She gets on the elevator and the doors close.  The elevator goes up several flights and stops.  The doors open and Natan steps into the hall, walking down the corridor.  She tosses the cup in a wastebasket she passes on the way.  Whatever happened to my WNBA career?

Natan walks past a half-open door, slows down, and then stops, as she checks her watch.  Looking unsure, she walks back to the door and knocks lightly.  Forty-five-year-old Alice Burns, sitting at her desk, sees Natan and waves her in.  Alice’s gentle motherly appearance conceals her strong, no-nonsense nature.  Outside the N.S.A. Alice is often mistaken as a fun-loving soccer mom.  In actuality, only a few years ago Alice was a top field agent in her prime and the first woman ever to vie for the job of head of the N.S.A.

Natan lingers in the doorway as Alice stands to greet her.

“Kate.  Sneaking in for a quick chat, are you?  So nice to see you.  I hear you’re having a busy morning.  No use lingering.”  Alice waves Natan into the office, “Come in…come in.”

“Yeah, actually I am.  And, don’t let anyone hear you call me that.”  Natan winces at the use of her first name in her presence at work.

Alice recognizes the issue and attempts to smooth it over. “I do realize that I’m the only one who holds the first name privilege with you, Kate.  And, if you haven’t noticed, we are alone.”

“I know…I just don’t want Knight or any of the others thinking they can share that privilege.”

“Your               secret is safe, even though you work with people who uncover information as an essential component of their daily jobs.”

Natan looks away, her mind drifting to places she never wanted to see again.

Alice tries to draw her back. “Hey, I missed you for lunch last week.”

Natan returns, “Yeah, sorry I couldn’t make it.  Things have been kinda hectic.  You did get my message, didn’t you?”

“Yes, and don’t worry about it.  We’ll make time soon.”

“How have you been?” Natan asks.

“I can’t complain.  Not sure anyone would listen if I did.  Now, we both know that you didn’t come here for small talk on such a busy morning?  So, let’s hear the request.”

“You really should be working investigations again.”

“I just know you well, that’s all.”

“Well…”  Natan shifts uncomfortably. “I was wondering if you still had that number you suggested to me?”

“To the therapist?”

Natan nods yes.  I can’t believe I’m in a place to need…this.

“You still having those dreams?”

Natan shifts uncomfortably.  Every damn night.

“How long has it been now, six months?  I guess you got tired of handling it alone, eh?  I’m glad you’re finally going to look into this, because you haven’t seemed like yourself lately.”  Alice moves back toward her desk.  “I have her card somewhere.  Let me get it for you.”  Alice sorts through some papers on her desk and retrieves a business card.  “I think this will do you a world of good, with all that sadness you’ve had to deal with in your life.  It’s a wonder your heart can still beat at all.”

“Alice, you know that I’m okay.  Besides, no one has a perfect life.”

“Of course you’re okay.  You just need a little dusting off, that’s all.  And, bite your tongue!  My life is close to perfect.  A vacation would be the cherry my life’s sundae has been missing.”

Natan’s demeanor shifts to serious again, “Alice, I need to know that this is just between us.  I don’t want the agency to find out that I’m seeing a therapist…especially Agent Knight.  I’d never hear the end of it.”

“This is me you’re talking to, remember?  Wasn’t I the one who persuaded you to join the N.S.A.?  I promised your father that I’d look out for you and I am.  Besides, if you ask me, everyone here could use a little therapy.  Agent Knight would be a great candidate himself with his obsessive neatness and all of that ironing he does.”

“I’m serious, Alice.”

“So am I.  How about if I swear on my retirement?” Alice holds out the business card.

Natan surrenders and takes the card, sliding it into her pants pocket.  “Let’s hope it’s not for a long while.  It’s hard to imagine this place without you.”

“I’ve imagined it.  Believe me.”

The two women laugh.

Alice leans in. “Speaking of Knight, it seems you’ve trained him well.  And, word is you’re really in demand now.  You know, I expected that, after you almost single-handedly prevented that terrorist attack in Boston.”

“Alice, you know that I had tons of help on that Boston thing.  Besides, nobody does anything single-handedly in the N.S.A.  Who knows, it could have even just been plain old luck.”

“Nonsense.  Give yourself credit, Kate.  So few others actually will.  You should get to that meeting now.  You know how much Chief Marsh hates waiting.”

“You’re still intercepting internal email, I see.”

“Well, of course.  How else do you expect me to keep on top of things?”

“At least you haven’t resorted to bugging the phones.”

Alice winks at Natan. “You never know.”  She raises her eyebrows.  “Good luck.  Maybe they’ll be sending you to the Caribbean.”

“If so, it’ll only be for a day or two.”

“Even a day or two away from D.C. would make me smile.”

“I think it’s Mexico.”

“Tomato…Tom’ato.”

Natan smiles as she steps into the hallway, leaving her friend behind.  She walks to the end of the corridor to a door with a name plate that reads “SECTION CHIEF MARSH.”  Natan knocks.

A deep, southern man’s voice answers from behind the door, “It’s about time.”  In Marsh’s world everyone is always late even if they aren’t.  Natan opens the door and walks in. The office radiates confidence.  Tidy dark wood furnishings adorn the space.  Marsh’s office reflects exactly who he is, a direct, hardworking, and no-nonsense fellow.  Forty-eight-year-old Agent Marsh, a stern, retired military officer, sits at his desk mulling through paperwork.  He is a man whose presence warrants respect, surrounding everyone around him with a quiet knowing.

Natan approaches his grand dark-cherry desk.  “Hello, Sir.  I apologize for my tardiness.  It’s been a hectic morning.”

Not looking up, Marsh replies, “You think you’ve had a hectic morning, Agent Natan?  I’ve got an American professor…”  He flips through the pages in his hand, “…a Professor Josh Sails of Maryland University…stuck in Mexico because he thought it wise to trespass on Mexican government property for some damn Indian artifacts.  A member of the Tactical Subcommittee, Congressman Bradshaw, called me at o’dark thirty this morning asking for help on this.  And, I’ve got the head of the N.S.A. breathing down my neck on policy.  Meantime, I just want to make sure the media doesn’t get wind of this whole fiasco.  Now, you were saying?”

“I think they’re actually Mayan, Sir.”

Marsh waves his hand in the air in half annoyance, half haste. “Does it matter, Agent Natan?  Let’s get down to business.”

“Sir, why was I requested for this case?”

Marsh thumbs through pages as he peers over his glasses. “To retrieve the professor, of course.  And, we need a body down there pronto.  They won’t release him until we show up personally.  They want the handoff to be to an N.S.A. agent directly…and they requested you specifically.”

Natan shifts uncomfortably. “Sir?  Who requested me?  We both know that my expertise is counter-terrorism and it’s evident that’s not what’s going on here.”

Marsh finally looks up at Natan.  “The professor requested you, Agent Natan…he wouldn’t accept anyone else.  Is there some history I should know about here?”

Natan cannot hide that she is utterly offended. “Sir, are you implying I know this man?”

Marsh looks down at his paperwork. “Well, do you?”

Natan stands at a firm attention, not retreating from this mild provocation.  “The first I’ve heard of him was this morning, Sir.  And I don’t understand why the N.S.A. is involved in this at all.”

Marsh engages her again. “We are the National Security Agency, are we not, Agent Natan?”

“Of course, Sir.  I’m just attempting to clarify some inconsistencies here.  This isn’t our jurisdiction…and…”

Marsh interrupts her. “We’ve been requested to assist on this case and that’s what we’re doing.”

“But, Sir…”

Natan is interrupted again. “Natan, how long have you worked for the N.S.A.?”

“Just over three years, Sir.”

“Yes, and lately you’ve seemed a little preoccupied.”

Natan starts to defend herself but Marsh sees her attempt to interject and continues. “Now, I know your work speaks for itself.  If you don’t know why he asked for you, well, that makes two of us.”

“I’m at a loss at my involvement in this, Sir.”

“I don’t know how this professor got the connections he has, but he has them…lucky for him or his ass would be in a Mexican jail for as long as those artifacts have been down there.  I was asked that we retrieve this guy and we need to keep this entire project classified.”  Marsh looks up at Natan. “I’m asking you as a favor to handle it.  I know this isn’t a glamorous assignment compared to Boston, but I would appreciate it.”

Natan’s instincts tell her that there is more to the story than Marsh is letting on.  “Sir, what aren’t you telling me here?”

Marsh pushes the pages aside, focusing his complete attention on Natan.  “I don’t even have all the specifics, and, at this point, I’m not sure I care to.  We are to retrieve him and have him in Washington in time for dinner tonight.  And, I was hoping to do it with as few questions as possible…in fact, I think you’ve used yours up already.”

Natan shifts silently from foot to foot.

Marsh inquires, “You’ve got other questions, Agent Natan?”

“Would you answer them if I asked?”

“Not likely.”

“I guess not, then, Sir.”

Marsh grabs some paperwork off of his desk. “Your itinerary is inside.”  He hands the paperwork to Natan, who takes it from him.  Natan starts to leave. “One other thing…” he says.

Natan stops. “Sir?”

“No use sending both of you.  I’ll let Agent Knight know that you’ll be on your own with this one entirely.  Now get outta here and have a safe trip.”

Natan leaves the office, replaying the conversation in her mind as she walks to her office to gather her things for the trip.  So strange that the agency is involved in this…

Chapter Four

Natan stands in the hot Mexican sun outside what she imagines to be the filthiest prison building she has ever seen.  She unbuttons her suit jacket, removing it as she folds it over one arm. I wonder how many prisoners in America would actually cry if they had to stay in a place like this.  She takes a deep breath, mustering up her courage to enter.

After speaking with several peons and a few officials, all of whom ogle her relentlessly, Natan finds herself and a Mexican guard maneuvering through streams of holding cells, heading toward the end of several crowded rows.  She comes to the last cell in the row and sees a disheveled, haggard Professor Sails sitting on the floor, scribbling notes in the dust with his index finger.  The cell is furniture-less and has a hole in the floor near the corner for use as a bathroom.

“Lovely accommodations,” Natan quips under her breath.  She stands in front of Josh, eyeing the symbols etched in the dirt.  Natan speaks through the bars, “Professor Sails?”

Josh jumps up and dusts his hands off.  “Agent Natan?”

Natan nods yes.  How does this guy know me?

Josh gushes his thanks. “Thank God.  Thank you for coming.”

Natan can’t help but notice Josh’s flamboyant Hawaiian attire.  “Nice shirt.  I can come back if you’d like to finish your game of tic-tac-toe.”              Natan sniffs the air.

Josh smirks.  “Yeah, that’s me.  Sorry about that.  They’re not as hospitable here as they are at the resort down the way.”

“I’ll bet not.”  Natan directs her attention to the guard and says in Spanish, “Open it.”  The guard opens the door with a large metal key.

“Thank you again,” Josh says.  “I’m grateful that you got here so quickly.  I was actually just trying to rewrite some notes that were lost when I was arrested…trying to keep my memory fresh.  And, I need to get my backpack.  It has the rest of my equipment and research.”  Josh directs his attention to the guard, speaking in Spanish.  “Where’s my bag?”

The guard responds tersely in Spanish, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” offended that the low-life American prisoner would speak to him.

Natan interrupts, “We’ll speak with the official here who facilitated your release.”

Josh whispers in Natan’s ear.  “I need that bag, Agent Natan.  It has irreplaceable data in it…information that could affect national security.”

Natan stops him with her hand.  “Now is not the time, but I promise you I will understand why it is I flew several thousand miles at your request.”

“You will,” he reassures her.

The two walk down the corridor that Natan came in.  Natan maneuvers away from Josh as they walk because of the smell.

Chapter Five

Agent Natan and a still untidy, freshly released Professor Sails sit together in a nearly vacant first class section of a cabin on a civilian plane returning to D.C.  Josh glances around to ensure that no one is listening.  He leans into Natan, speaking in a lowered voice. “As I said, it’s a long and unbelievable story.  So, please bear with me and I think you’ll understand more once I’m finished.”

Natan waves her glass of sparkling water in front of Josh as an instruction for him to proceed as she listens, chewing ice.

He continues, “I’ve been doing mathematical iconography work for the university for the last five years, focusing on ancient Mayan symbols.  Several months ago I began investigating the codes in the Old Testament of the Bible, what some people call the “Bible Code.”  Both skeptics and believers have been researching the Code since before Isaac Newton.  At various points in history interest has either waned or gained momentum, depending on historical circumstance.  The Code has gotten more attention the last few years, particularly after September 11th.

“The Bible Code?  Is that the idea that there is a secret code in the Bible that can supposedly predict the future?” Natan asks.

An elated Josh replies, “Yes.  Exactly.  However, links to the Mayans in the Bible Code are not well known.  I found some interesting clues in the Mayan matrices of the Code that no one else has uncovered.”

Natan interjects, “Matrices?”

“To find the Code, the letters on a page of text in the Bible are arranged in a matrix.  For a sequence of letters a number is selected, and using that number, we move forward by that number repeatedly throughout the text, which reveals certain words or phrases.  This is called equidistant letter sequencing, or E.L.S.  The closer the words or phrases are within the matrix or matrices, the more likely there is a correlation.”

Natan looks confused.  “I still don’t understand what all of this has to do with the N.S.A. and with me.”

“Please bear with me and I’ll get to that.  I wanted to dismiss the Code and Mayan connections so that I could continue my iconography work, but as I said, I found an undiscovered connection to the Mayan calendar end date.”

“A connection to what?”

“The Mayan calendar ends in December of 2012…many researchers have speculated about whether this is the date of the end of the world. After what I saw in Mexico, I believe it to be.”

Natan contains her laughter as she quaffs her beverage. “You’re kidding, right?”

Josh maintains his seriousness. “No.  I came to Mexico because I found clues in the Code revealing a hidden riddle of symbols in the ruins.  I had to find out if this riddle really exists.  These thirteen hidden symbols were supposedly only revealed every six and a half years, only visible at a specific time of day.  The Mayans' calendar is measured in baktuns, which are specific segments of time.  Six and a half years represents the period of half of the thirteen baktuns.  2006 and 2012 are the last dates listed for opportunities to access these hidden symbols before the calendar runs out.”

“And, why can this event happen only every six or so years?” Natan asks.

“It has to do with the solar cycle.”

“You’re telling me the Mayans knew what the sun would be doing centuries after their demise?”

“Astronomy was integral to every aspect of Mayan life.  Many historians say that the Mayans were actually the founders of quantum physics,” Josh explains.

Natan's skepticism gets the best of her. “Wow.  Do you think they invented the iPod too, and Steve Jobs just took the credit?”

“There is substantial data to support the Mayans' mathematical and astronomical advancements.”

Natan isn’t convinced.  “Did you find the symbols?”

“I found seven of the thirteen but the Mexican military arrived before I could get the last six.  But…I did find them, exactly as described in the Code matrices with the exact coordinates.

“How did you get caught, by the way?”

Josh lowers his head in shame.  “My G.P.S. gave me away.”

Natan shakes her head.  “All this trouble and racking up of airline miles…because you forgot to hit the off button?”

“What can I say?  I’m no special agent.”

“I guess not.”  Natan observes Josh’s face as it reflects a complete belief in what he’s telling her.  “So, you risk ending up as someone’s stand-in girlfriend…an international one at that…in a Mexican jail because you think this Bible Code is really true and is predicting the end of the world…for a date in December of 2012?” Josh nods his head yes.  Natan continues, “So, let’s say for a moment that this crazy theory is true.  What do the symbols say and what good are they if you don’t have all of them?  Not to mention, again, what this has to do with me and the N.S.A.?”

“I have to decipher the symbols I do have to find their full significance.  My guess is that if the end date is accurate, then they may be able to provide information to us so that we can find a way to stop it.  And I have more than half of the symbols, so there’s a good chance I may still be able to extrapolate the data.  Now, if the end date in December of 2012 is really valid, then I would say that the world ending in six years is an N.S.A. issue.”  Josh waits for a response.  Natan sits speechless and in disbelief.  Josh continues.  “I realize it’s difficult to believe.  I didn’t know what to say about it at first either.”

“Oh, I know what to say.  I’m just trying to be polite,” she replies.

“You think I’m crazy?”

“I think the Bible preventing its own supposed prediction of Armageddon is about as realistic as the current administration holding itself accountable for improper conduct.  Don’t get me wrong.  I find this whole thing fascinating…in a Hollywood blockbuster movie sort of way.”

“I’ve seen this with my own eyes.  I have proof from the ruins themselves,” Josh asserts.

“If you’re referring to a bunch of stones and some dinnerware from several thousand years ago, I don’t think that counts as proof to me.  I need hard facts.”

Josh looks around again, grabs his gear and reaches down into his bag.  He pulls his scribbled writings and shaded sketches out to show her. “This may help.  Here…”  Josh hands them to her.

“What’s this?” Natan takes them.

“Data.  This is the riddle that I copied off of the inner circle of the Mayan altar as the sun elapsed onto each segment of the chosen symbol.”  Josh points to the shadings of the segments in her hand.  “These are the thirteen segments, each with their own symbols that reflect the phases of the moon.  These thirteen segments can be compared to our twelve months.  This is the proof.  The Code is valid.”

Natan has no idea what she’s looking at.  “I don’t know.  It’s all Greek to me.  Do you have any other data to support this?  I mean are your results verifiable or is this all random chance?”

“The mathematical probability of all of the information that I found regarding the riddle at the ruins occurring within the same matrices of the decoded Bible text is a billion-to-one or greater.”  Josh tries again.  “Can you understand the significance of what I’m telling you?”

“Professor, please pardon my directness here, but as I said, I’m a fact-based person.”  Natan shifts in her seat, the strain of the trip and the story wearing on her. “Let me tell you where I’m coming from.  The Bible is a collection of stories that were written by a bunch of men who wanted to control the collective consciousness of the masses.  Facilitating control was the purpose, not fact or truth.”  Josh looks dumbfounded.  Natan continues.  “Did you know that there is actually a passage in the Bible that says that a woman can’t sleep in bed next to her husband if she’s menstruating?  I mean…is that some sort of code for the prediction of P.M.S. or what?”

“There is substance to this, Agent Natan.  This is not a joke.  I am gravely concerned about what lies ahead.”

“If this Bible Code could provide me with say…Osama bin Laden’s location, I think I’d be interested.  I mean, information like that would be invaluable, otherwise…” Natan trails off.

“I understand your skepticism.  I felt the same way.  Agent Natan, I really need your help here.”

Natan balks, “You’re out of jail…on your way back to D.C.  What do you need me for?”

“I need someone with connections inside the intelligence arena.”

“Hey, you got the section chief of the N.S.A. to send me to your rescue.  I think you have plenty of connections.”

“There’s more to this than just what I’ve told you,” Josh says.

The flight attendant comes on over the loudspeaker.  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re about to begin our descent into the D.C. area.  Please place your seats and tray tables in their upright positions…”

Josh leans in, whispering in Natan’s ear, “Please just think about it.”  Natan nods her head okay, while her eyes reveal that she won’t give it a second thought. Josh leans back into his seat.  If she doesn’t believe this, what will she say when she finds out the rest?

Chapter Six

A broken morning sunbeam streams in through James Baxter's office window, reflecting on one of his many pictures with top government officials.  The light stream highlights the picture of Baxter, the head of the N.S.A., with the U.S. President, as the two stand arm in arm, exchanging monetary and powerful favors that the photo holds secret.  Baxter believes his choice to adorn his office with his powerful connections helps convey his own power.  He is unaware that it really conveys his inability to stand on his own.

Fifty-seven-year-old Baxter, a hard-looking man, stands at his window looking out over the city.  He holds a manila file in his hand.  A knock on the door disturbs Baxter’s narcissistic brooding.  “Come in,” he answers the interruption sternly.

Baxter’s handpicked, aggressively polished yes agent enters the office, weakly closing the door behind him.  Baxter’s demeanor lightens.

The agent approaches Baxter’s desk.  “Sir, I got the information on that Boston report you requested.”  The office door remains cracked just slightly.

Outside the office Alice walks down the hallway in front of Baxter’s office on the way to a meeting and hears the beginnings of the conversation.  Reacting as the field agent she once was, she slows to listen.

Baxter’s voice reverberates firmly. “Did you find anything incriminating on Agent Natan?              Or did it all match this report about her fine work?”

Alice’s attention piques.

The agent responds, “Not quite, Sir.  Our sources say that it was virtually impossible for Special Agent Natan to have intercepted all of the information she provided.  She knew things that just couldn’t have been known without inside capability.”

Alice continues listening, the concerned look on her face growing with each passing second.

Baxter replies, “You wanna tell me how she got it then?  We better be damn sure we have proof if we’re accusing one of the N.S.A. special agents of improper conduct, especially this agent.  She’s been commended by the President, for Christ sakes.”

“I’m aware of that, Sir, and I’m still investigating it,” the agent replies.

“Any other data you get on this comes to me immediately, understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Anyone asking questions about you looking into this?” Baxter asks.

“No, Sir.  But there is one other thing.  Special Agent Natan was requested to recover a research professor who was arrested in Mexico.  This is outside of N.S.A. protocol.  Marsh issued the order so I don’t think the issues are related.  I just wanted to be sure that you knew about it.’

“I spoke with Marsh this morning.  This came from him.  It was a Congressional favor of some kind, but look into it anyway.”

“Anything else, Sir?”

“That’ll be all.” Baxter’s voice trails off.

Alice rushes from the door, maneuvering into a corner out of sight.  Oh Kate.  What have you gotten yourself into?

Chapter Seven

Inside the N.S.A. building Agent Natan walks from the elevator to Marsh’s office.  She gets to the door and knocks lightly.  Marsh’s voice can be heard from behind the door, “It’s about time.”  Agent Natan smiles to herself as she enters the office.  She sees Marsh sitting at his desk.

A confident Natan approaches. “Sir.”

Marsh acknowledges this confidence, “Agent Natan, looks like you got back in one piece.  That’s always a good thing.  Everything complete?”

“Yes, Sir.  The professor arrived with me at Dulles yesterday in the evening in time for dinner and we parted ways at customs, Sir.”

“Glad to see that everything’s taken care of.  I appreciate you handling this.”

“No problem, Sir.”

“Well, Agent Natan, no need to waste any more of your day in my office.  I’m sure Agent Knight is champing at the bit to have you back.”

Natan smiles.  “Yes, Sir.  I’m sure he is.”

Natan starts to leave.

“Agent Natan.” Marsh’s words stop her.

Natan turns back to him. “Sir?”

Marsh smiles.  “Be sure to keep that rookie in line.”

“Always, Sir.”

Natan leaves the office and makes her way down the corridor.  A female co-worker approaches her.  “Agent Natan.  You have a call on line two.  A professor from Maryland University.”

Natan reaches for her cell phone. “Patch it through to my cell, will ya?”

Chapter Eight

Agent Natan enters Maryland University, meandering her way through hallways in her attempts to find the math department.  The corridors echo with a hollowness in between that of a hospital and a church, an academic feel that reflects the warranted sense of an emptiness not prescribed or ascribed but earned.  Signs guide her to the graduate department where Professor Sails’ office awaits her.

A closed door with a name plate that reads “Professor Josh Sails” greets her as she arrives.  Natan knocks on the door. “Professor Sails?”  There is no answer.  Natan steps away from the door and looks around.  She stands in the hallway waiting for Josh for several moments.  He finally approaches, clean-shaven, looking completely vibrant, unknowingly revealing his handsomeness to Natan.

“Sorry I’m a little late.  Thank you for driving up…and for waiting,” he says as he quickly unlocks the door.

Natan remains in shock about Josh’s kempt-ness.

“Agent Natan, did you hear me?  I apologized for being late,” he says.

Natan gathers her senses. “You said lives could be at stake.  And, I must tell you that this puts me in an awkward place with agency protocol by coming here.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he teases.

Josh opens the door and they enter his clutter filled office.  Papers and Hebrew text documents emanate from the desk and spread like a virus throughout the office space.  A paper-cluttered sofa lines one of the walls.  Natan is appalled by the extraordinary disarray and attempts to contain her disapproval. “Wow, it’s like paper hell in here.”

“I’m not even going to respond to that.”  Josh gets to his desk and begins rifling through papers.  Where is it?  He sees a manila envelope and picks it up.  “Ah, here.”

Josh hands the envelope to Natan.

“What is this?” she asks, taking the envelope.

“Just open it,” he replies.

Natan opens the envelope and finds a photo of Josh and herself at the airport returning from Mexico along with a letter.  The words in the letter are composed of cut-out letters from magazines against a backdrop of a single white page.

The letter reads “I know who she is.”

Natan holds the page up in front of Josh. “Where did you get this?”

“It was just sitting on my desk this morning.”

“You keep your office locked?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Anyone else have a key?”

“The university keeps a backup and my research assistant, Amanda, has one.

But she isn’t involved in this in any way.”

“We don’t know that. What does this mean?  “'I know who she is?'”

“I’m pretty sure it’s referencing you, Agent Natan.  And, I think now would be a good time to go over the rest of what I couldn’t tell you before.”

Natan puts the photo on Josh’s desk.  “O…kay, but I don’t get why I’m important here.”

Josh motions to a cluttered chair. “Wanna sit down?”

Barely able to stand in the clutter, Natan doesn’t want to make herself at home here. “Let’s just hear it,” she says.

“The exact end date of the Mayan calendar is December 21, 2012, or 13.0.0.0.0. as numbered in their calendar.  Here again, the Mayans use the number thirteen.”

“This again?  Okay, I’ll bite.  What’s the significance of thirteen?” she asks.

“Weren’t paying attention on the plane, were you?  It’s the moon cycle, remember.  And the Mayans also had thirteen constellations, where we only have twelve.  Everything is tied to astronomical phenomena and the number thirteen was a powerful astronomical number for them.”

“Okay.  I’m following you,” she says.

“Philosophers, anthropologists, and mathematicians theorize that this date will be a culmination of huge astronomical events during the December solstice.  During this time, it’s said that there will be a galactic eclipse of sorts.  The closer we get to 2012, the more strange phenomena will occur, particularly during the months of June and December, the opposing solstices.”

Natan tries to understand, “Strange phenomena?  It just doesn’t seem possible that the world will end in a matter of a few years. I mean, even global warming will take longer.  And, I have lingering questions from our conversation earlier. The Code matrices only provide clues, right?  How did you piece this all together?  I mean, you must have influenced the outcome somehow.”

“I found the foundation data in the Code itself and then I did additional research to bring it all together,” he explains.

“But, you did do additional research?” she probes.

“Yes, but the clues were exact.  The symbols for the riddle were there. Here, let me show you.”  Josh shuffles through some other papers and finds a page with a grid of letters.  Several words are highlighted in different colors on the page.

“I am just thoroughly impressed that you can find anything in here,” Natan chastises.

“I do have a system.”  Josh shows Natan the page.  “Now, if you look here, you’ll see several words close together.   This is the translated version, mind you.”  On the page, words appear across, down, and diagonally forward and backward.  The words are in close proximity to one another.   The words Mayan, riddle, ruins, and marker appear in the same line.  The phrases and numbers 13Symbols, Halfof13, 12211999, 06212006, 12212012, Circleofsun, and 1478333-9238333 also appear in this one matrix.

Natan points to the page. “These four words are in the same line.  This can’t be accurate.  Are you sure you translated this correctly?”

Josh replies, “Yes.  I’ve checked and rechecked and checked again.”

“And this is the billion-to-one odds you were talking about?” she asks.

“It takes your breath away, doesn’t it?”

Natan attempts to make sense of what she’s reading. “What are all of these series of numbers?”

Josh points to the page.  “Some are the exact days, months, and years that the symbols will be revealed in 1999, 2006, and 2012.”

Natan questions, “Okay, so this doesn’t look like it reveals the time of day.  How did you know the time?”

Josh proudly answers, “It doesn’t reveal it.  I took a chance that it was thirteen, or 1 p.m.  And, I was right.”

“Good guess.  All those thirteens paid off.  This long string of numbers.  What are they, Professor?”

“Very perceptive, Agent Natan.  That actually took me a while to figure out.  My dad’s a sailor, and it looked like coordinates.  Turns out it is longitude and latitude coordinates for Tapachula, Mexico.  I translated this and did some additional research on various geographical Mayan ruin sites in the area…there were a few in the area, two smaller outlying sites and one major altar site.  The altar site seemed the most logical choice.”

Natan is stunned. “You have got to be kidding me.  You pieced this all together?”  She doesn’t wait for an answer. “And you have the symbols you retrieved from the ruins?”

Josh pats his bag on the chair next to him.  “Right here.  Though I still haven’t had time to decipher them.  Regardless, this can’t all just be coincidence or chance.”

She shakes her head in disbelief. “There has to be some other explanation.”

“You know, Agent Natan, truth is truth.  You can believe the world is flat, but it still doesn’t make it so.  If data is what you’re looking for, the Code provides mathematical certainty that even I, as a mathematician, can’t argue with.”

“Professor Sails.  As a mathematician, one plus one equals two, right?”

“Yes, of course,” he retorts.

“Well, what you’re trying to tell me is that one plus one equals five.  And, I just can’t compute it.  This idea is intriguing, but I need more than just one data point.”

“Of course you do,” he says, “And, I have a few more for you.  I think you’ll want to sit down for these, though.”

Natan shakes her head. “Just tell me.”

Josh picks up the Matrix.  “My full name is in the same matrix with the other clues.”  A section of it is folded, hiding some of the page.  He hands it to Natan.

Natan takes the page, glancing at the professor’s name, “Okay, I’ll admit, that is really strange.”

Josh then picks up the photograph of the two of them.  “I’m not as concerned about me in this picture as I am about you.”

“I’m a N.S.A. agent, remember?  Your concern is unwarranted, Professor.”

“That’s not what I mean.  Agent Natan…”

Natan smiles at him. “Are you going to tell me or do I have to decipher it from the Code itself?”

“Is your middle name Elizabeth, first name Katherine?  Date of birth, December 21, 1973?” Josh asks.

The smile fades from Natan’s face.  “Did you get my personal information from the Internet or something?  No one calls me Katherine.”

“Agent Natan, your full name and date of birth are in the code in one unbroken line.  That’s why I sought you out.”  Josh unfolds the section of matrix in Natan’s hand.

Natan’s name and birth date are listed on the page.  Her hands begin to shake as she holds the page.

“Why didn’t you mention that your birthday was December 21 when I was explaining the date significance earlier?” Josh questions.

Natan’s voice shakes. “It’s just a coincidence.  This is…all just a coincidence.”

Natan maneuvers toward the paper-covered sofa.

Josh sees the color fading from her face.  “Are you okay?” he asks.

Natan plops onto the sofa, still holding the page, as paper crunches beneath her.  She tries to catch her breath. “I’m fine.”

“If I found both of our names in the Code and someone sent us that photo, then they may have found them too.”

Natan’s N.S.A.-agent mode kicks in.  “We don’t know anything yet.  It has to be some random thing.  Maybe someone who works with you is involved.”

Josh warns, “Look, this is an incredibly delicate situation and we need to be as protective of our contact as we are of these elements of the Code.  I haven’t revealed what I found about the riddle, about me, or about your information in the matrices to anyone…not to Congressman Bradshaw and not even to my research assistant.”

“I need to think this through.”  Natan runs her fingers through her hair, her mind racing a million miles a minute.

A reluctant Josh continues, “There’s one more thing.”

Natan looks up at Josh with even more shock.

“Agent Natan.  Do you know what your last name means?”

Natan regains her composure.  Another riddle?  This guy is beginning to test my patience, clean-scented or not.  “I haven’t the vaguest idea.  Why?” she replies.

“The name Natan means “Nathan” in Hebrew.”

Natan retorts, “So?  I’m not even Jewish, or religious, nor do I know if I even believe in God.  Why would this be significant?”

“Jewish or not, belief or not, Nathan means prophet in Hebrew.”  Josh takes a breath.  “The word prophet was also listed in the matrix…next to your name.”

Natan drops the page to the floor.  Near Natan’s name on the page is the word prophet circled in red pen.

Part II

Underneath

Chapter Nine

July 1, 2006

Natan sleeps in the quiet of her home, lost in her daily dream.

Within her mind, the wind blows gently against the backdrop of deep blue sky.  She observes a few white clouds as they dot the background.  Natan reaches out to them, finding herself lifting off the ground.  She flies, soaring through the sky as if God’s hand is cradling her.  The wind whooshes past her, dancing on her skin as the small, gentle clouds she reaches for mount in the distance, pulling her toward them.  As she gets closer she sees a lone white door suspended in the air with only its frame.  A sudden silence encloses her as the door looms, the wind drifting into the abyss of eternity.  She approaches and slowly the door begins to open.  Natan is blinded by a bright light.

The voice of God speaks her name. “Katherine.”

Natan hears a loud knock on the door, pausing to look around her.

Josh’s voice emerges from a distance. “Agent Natan.”

Natan sees white ceiling as she slowly opens her eyes, trying to get her bearings as she wakes.

“Agent Natan.  It’s Josh Sails.  I really need to speak to you!”  Josh’s voice is muffled by Natan’s front door.

With eyes fully open, Natan lies on the couch in her living room.  One of Josh’s penned symbol books is spread over her chest.  She is soaked with perspiration, her face gleaming.  Josh knocks on the door again.  Natan jerks up, registering that it’s Josh.

What the…?  Natan, in shorts and a tank top, gets up and heads to the door.

An unrelenting Josh continues, “Agent Natan.  I hear you in there.”

Natan opens the door to find a frantic Professor Sails.

Her annoyance is unshielded, “So now you’re intruding on my private residence?”

Josh’s eyes shoot downward, attempting to avoid confrontation.  “I apologize.  I’ve tried contacting you by phone on several occasions.  It’s imperative that we speak.”

“I’ve said all I need to say.  I can’t help you in your quest, Professor Sails.”

Josh pushes closer to her. “Agent Natan, your information is in the Bible Code, believe it or not.”

Natan shifts uncomfortably in the doorway, backing away from him. “We’ve gone over this, Professor.”

“I need you to listen to me.  We’re running out of time.”  Josh grabs Natan’s hand.  Both are startled at the unexpected gesture.

“I…I just don’t think I can be a part of this.”  Natan pulls her hand back.

Josh reaches into a bag to get some papers.  “Each day that passes is one less that we have to figure this out,” he says as he hands Natan some papers.  “Here.  Please review them yourself.”

Natan pushes the papers back at Josh.  “I can’t.”

He pushes them back toward her, “I beg you.  Please just look them over…and then make your decision.  I believe that you are the biggest piece in this puzzle and I need you to help me figure out just exactly what that piece is.”

Natan runs her fingers through her hair. “Uh.  All right.  I’ll review it, though I don’t think it will make much difference.  In the meantime, I want you to arrange me a meeting with your research assistant, so that I can find out if she was involved in leaving that package.  I need to find out why someone would want to photograph an N.S.A. agent and eliminate any links to terrorism here.”

“I’ll arrange it…though I must say again that Amanda has no involvement in this. I told you that she doesn’t even know what I’ve been working on the past few months,” he complies.

Natan takes the pages from Josh.  “I’ll call you.  Please don’t contact me again until then.”  Natan shuts the door in Josh’s face just as he’s about to say something.

“Please just read it,” he struggles to get his final thought through the door.

“Yeah…yeah…” Natan says to herself as she looks at the papers in her hand.  “It’s time.  No use putting it off any longer.”  Natan tosses the papers on the coffee table next to Josh’s book and grabs her pants from a chair next to the couch.  She fumbles through the pockets, pulling out the card that Alice gave her for the therapist.  The card reads, “Christine Jacobs, Psychologist, Ph.D.”

Natan grabs her cell phone and dials a number.  She hears a woman’s voice answer. “Hello.  This is Christine Jacobs.”

Chapter Ten

Josh sits at his desk inside his office at the university with the infamous bag open near him.  Pages of the chalk shadings from the ruin litter his desk.  He picks up the first symbol page and looks at it as his memory drifts to a class lecture he gave six months ago.

Josh stands with his back to more than a hundred students, scribbling notes on a chalk board.  “It’s time, Professor,” a student shouts from the back of the room.

Josh looks down at his watch, then places the chalk neatly in its place on the board.

He dusts his hands off, then offers the class his final thought for the day. “Okay everyone.  That’ll do it for today.  And, remember, creating symbols with a mathematic congruency is the central theme here.  I promise if the Mayans can do it, then you, twenty-first-century graduate students, certainly can.  Have a great weekend.”

Several students snicker in the back of the classroom as they shuffle out of their chairs to the exits. Henry, the second-best student in the program, approaches Josh as he erases Mayan references from the chalk board at the front of the lecture hall.

“Professor Sails, do you have a moment?” he asks.

Josh acknowledges him. “For you, Henry, of course.”

Henry hands Josh a few research pages, “I thought you would find this interesting.”  The article title reads “Mathematics of the Bible Code.”

Josh flips through the pages, looking at Henry quizzically. “The Bible Code?”

Henry looks hopeful. “Supposedly there’s a sound mathematical foundation for it.”

“You can’t believe everything you read, Henry,” Josh retorts.

“I know, I just thought you might want to review it.”

“Well, thanks for thinking of me.”

“No problem, Professor Sails.  See ya Monday.”  Henry leaves Josh to finish his erasing.

“Take care.” Josh shakes his head, tossing the papers aside, and returns to the board.

Josh blinks to another memory, finding himself completely enthralled by the article findings.  What began as a brief review to casually cast aside, quickly became a significant scientific discovery to the professor.   Sitting in his university office, Josh surrounds himself with a collage of Hebrew writings as he peruses duplicate pages on his computer.  The screen shows a Bible matrix with circled Mayan references, including Josh’s name.  This can’t be right.  It’s not possible…is it?  He frantically continues reviewing the notes, closing his eyes for a brief second to get his bearings.

Josh flashes to another memory: he holds a drink and stands in the foyer of Congressman Kent Bradshaw’s immaculate Victorian home.  Congressman Bradshaw comes from old money, a history of Democratic politicians in his family.  The cold, museum-like quality of Kent’s home didn’t fit Josh’s understanding of Kent himself.  Kent was like an older brother—he could be stern, but he was usually as warm and likeable a guy as anybody, not a politician at all.  Kent had been in Congress a fair time now and Josh could see it wearing on his Democratic friend as he rode the minority tide, not only surviving the Republican storm of recent years, but seating a committee to become the man he had promised to his constituents.  In Josh’s mind, Kent was two men, the politician and the friend, and Josh felt the ever-growing gap between the two.

Not enjoying the taste of alcohol, Josh takes an infinitesimal sip of his drink out of politeness. “I’m heading to Mexico tomorrow to review some Mayan artifacts.”

“Looking for anything in particular?” Kent questions.

“You know me, just looking to find whatever needs finding,” Josh smiles.

“This is the huge revelation you wanted to tell me about?  Mayan artifacts?  You’re not dabbling where you shouldn’t be, are ya, Josh?”  Kent’s older brother side comes on.

“No…no,” Josh replies. “I think I’m on to something, but I can’t really discuss it

until I investigate it further.  I will say that I may have found a unicorn, Kent.”

“I’ve heard those mathematical unicorns are quite hard to find,” Kent jokes as he downs his own drink in one fell swoop.

“Go ahead…jest at my expense,” Josh retorts. “But when I show up on your doorstep with the discovery of a lifetime, you’ll be begging me for a meeting with your committee.”

Kent salutes Josh with his own drink.  “I guess time will tell.”

Josh smiles, looking down into his nearly full drink.  Let’s hope so.

Josh’s thoughts drift back to present day reality as he sits at his desk pondering the beginning of this journey.  Natan emerges in the open doorway, interrupting his thoughts. “You always leave your door open, Professor?”

Josh is startled. “You always sneak up on others, Agent Natan?”

“It’s not really sneaking if you have an appointment.”  Natan looks at her watch.  “You said nine, yes?”

“Yeah, sorry.  You can wait in the professors’ lounge down the hall and around the corner.  You can’t miss it.  I’ll go get Amanda.”  Josh gathers several of the shadings and papers and puts them back into his bag.  He leaves out the page for the first symbol, sliding it into his top drawer.  Josh puts his bag on top of a file cabinet in the corner of his office.

Natan lingers in the doorway.  “Great, Professor.  I’d really like to wrap this all up.”  She gives Josh a look of disapproval.  “Still haven’t figured those out yet, huh?”

Josh follows Natan out of the office as he defends himself. “It has a complex encryption, Agent Natan.  Deciphering takes time.”

Natan toys with him. “I thought you said we didn’t have time.”

“Are you always this huffy in the morning?” he asks.

“It’s what happens when people interrupt my sleep,” she answers.  Josh remains silent.

He leads Natan to a professors’ lounge where he instructs her to wait.  Natan sits alone at the head of a large table with several chairs.  She taps her fingers as she waits.  A few moments later the door opens and Josh appears again with Amanda Clark, his twenty-eight-year-old spunky research assistant.  Amanda’s youthful appearance conceals her true age, but it’s her vibrant energy, a sort of magnetism, that gathers the most attention upon introduction.  Natan notices this immediately.  I can see why he’d be protecting her.

Josh motions to Natan.  “That’s her.  She just has a few questions for you.  I’ll be

in the lecture hall if you need me.”

“Will you set up the projector for me for my next class?” Amanda asks.

“Sure,” Josh replies.

Josh leaves as Amanda comes into the lounge, walking over to the table.  She stands with her hands in her pockets as Natan finishes sizing her up.  Amanda wears a t-shirt with a photo of Riana Ball, a famous soul singer from the fifties and sixties, on it.  It reads “Riana ‘08.”

“Riana Ball?” Natan questions.

“She is the best,” Amanda coolly replies.

“Great enough to be the next president, huh?  Natan points to a chair near her.  “Would you like to sit down?”

“No thanks.  I sit most of the day, unless I’m teaching, so it’s nice to stand.  I’d love to chat about Riana all day long, but Josh said you have some questions for me,” Amanda gets to the point.

“Yes, I do.”  Natan’s gun is revealed as she gets up from her chair.

Amanda’s cool melts quickly away. “Wait a minute.  Is that a gun?  Are you a cop?  Is this…about me driving by my ex-girlfriend’s house a few months ago?”  Natan’s intrigue keeps her silent.  She’s a lesbian.  Guess that rules out intimacy with the professor. Natan lets Amanda continue as she confides, “I mean it was only twice.  I was in the neighborhood…and…I didn’t even stop.”

“I’m sorry?” Natan says.

“Did she see me and make a complaint or something?” Amanda asks with grave concern.

Natan’s had her fun. “What?  Ms. Clark, I don’t know what impression you’ve gotten, but I am Special Agent Natan with the National Security Agency.”  Natan pulls out her badge.

“Is drama with your ex a National Security issue now?” Amanda’s breathing becomes exceptionally shallow.

“Ms. Clark…”

Amanda interrupts Natan, her voice edging higher, “This has got to be just a big misunderstanding.”

“Ms. Clark, I’m investigating a package that was left in Professor Sails’ office.”

“You’re not here about Rebecca?”

“No.  Not unless Rebecca left a package in Professor Sails’ locked office a few weeks ago.”

Amanda feels hopeful. “Well, I don’t know about any package.”

“Only Professor Sails, the maintenance department, and you have a key.  Now, I’ve spoken with the maintenance department and they are not involved.”  Natan waits, gauging Amanda’s response.  There isn’t one so she continues, “I’d just like to ask you a few questions about this.  I’d hoped that the professor would have explained some of this to you.”

Realizing what’s just occurred Amanda replies, “Uh.  Oh.  Well, Josh just said that you were a friend of his and had some questions for me.  Let’s just forget about what I said about Rebecca and the fact that I just outed myself to the National Security Agency, shall we?”

“Being gay isn’t a National Security issue.”

“You sure about that…in these times?”

“Last time I checked people are people.  Sounds like you’re the one having the issue here.”

“It’s my parents who have the issue, not me.  Hey, I thought this was about a package.” The disconnect between Amanda’s mouth and her brain continue to reveal more than she wants.

“It is.  So you didn’t leave a package with a photo and letter in it on Professor Sails’ desk in the last few weeks?”

“I already told you no,” Amanda replies, becoming annoyed at this entire conversation.

“I’m just clarifying some things.  As I said, you are the only other person who has a key to his office.”

“I have a key, but haven’t used it in eons.”

“Okay, well, has anyone else had access to your key? Like say a significant other…it sounds like we can rule this Rebecca person out, right, Ms. Clark?”

“Look, N.S.A. lady, I’m getting my Ph.D.  My life is school.  I consider Josh my stand-in girlfriend right now and he’s also my closest friend.  My life is a cornucopia of excitement, can’t you tell?  Are you sure that it wasn’t just delivered when the office was open?  Have you asked him about this?” Amanda retorts.

“I have.  That’s why I’m talking to you now.  One last question.  Have you seen anything suspicious or strange around his office in the last week or so?”

“Besides Josh’s clutter?  Nothing more than usual.”

Natan sizes Amanda up one last time. “Okay then, looks like we’re through.  Thanks for your help.”

Amanda tries to smooth things over with the government. “Again, I’m sorry about…the confusion.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ms. Clark.”  Natan sees Amanda’s discomfort.  “And…give your parents time.  They’ll come around.”

“There’s a better chance that Riana Ball will actually become president.”  Amanda heads toward the door.

Natan smiles, “And…Ms. Clark.”

Amanda turns. “Yeah?”

Natan winks at Amanda. “You may want to rethink the whole stalking thing.”

Amanda attempts to hide her embarrassment as she calls over her shoulder while leaving, “I was just passing by.”  Amanda can’t leave the lounge quickly enough.  Natan smiles and shakes her head.

Josh runs into Amanda outside the lounge. “The projector’s all set.”

“Thanks,” she retorts sarcastically.

An oblivious Josh walks back into the room.

“Looks like you were right, Professor.  She’s not involved, though she is a very interesting individual,” Natan says.

“I told you that she had nothing to do with this.  She doesn’t have it in her to lie,” he asserts.

“We all have it in us to lie, Professor…under the right circumstances.  Though it didn’t appear that she was.”

“I arranged the meeting for you, Agent Natan…now, have you had a chance to review any of the information?”

“Some.”

“So, what do you think?”

“There may be something to this, Professor.  I need a bit more time.”

Josh appears relieved.  “I’m so glad that you’re evaluating this from an unbiased perspective.  Thank you for giving me…uh…this…a chance.”

Amanda pokes her head back inside the door of the lounge, catching the tail end of the conversation.  “Not to interrupt your intricate mating banter…but, Ms.…N.S.A. lady.  You wanted to know if I’d seen anything strange lately?”

“Yeah?” Natan replies.

“Well, there’s a strange looking fellow standing outside of Josh’s office right now.  I haven’t seen him here before,” Amanda answers.

“Right now?” Natan asks.

“Yeah, at least he was there a second ago.”

Wasting no time, Natan and Josh both bolt for the doorway and venture into the hallway.  Josh breaks into a sprint, hollering over his shoulder, “Where was he, Amanda?”

Amanda shouts to Josh as he runs away from her, “Just outside your office.”

Natan and Amanda run after Josh, maneuvering down a hallway and around a corner.

On the other end of the corridor a man dressed in professional attire stands at the exit sign just yards from Josh’s office.  He faces away from Josh and the others.  He has a gun, which Natan spots, so she addresses him. “Sir.  I’m a federal agent.  I need to speak with you.  Wait there.”

Still facing away from them, the man takes off.  Natan yells after him, “Federal agent!  Stop!”  The man runs, approaching and throwing open the door of a nearby stairwell.  He disappears through the door, rushing down the stairwell.  Natan pulls her gun and rushes after him in hot pursuit.  Josh and Amanda stand back in awe.

“Wait here,” Natan instructs sternly to Josh and Amanda.

Amanda looks at Josh, “I’d do what she says.”

Natan vanishes through the exit door, rushing down the steps with no sign of the man in sight.  She reaches the bottom floor and finds nothing.  Natan opens the door that leads outside, emerging in the middle of a bustling campus.  She tucks her gun away as she sees several student passersby.  Natan looks all around.  The man isn’t anywhere to be found.  Dammit!

Chapter Eleven

Natan returns to Josh’s office to find Josh and Amanda talking.  Flipping through items on his desk, Josh inquires about the situation, “Did you catch him?”

Natan shakes her head. “He must have gotten lost in the crowd of students outside.”

Josh suddenly looks around the room frantically. “My bag’s gone!”

“What bag?”  Natan asks.

“The bag with the shadings.”

Amanda chimes in, “Who was that guy?  What shadings?  What’re you guys talking about?”

Natan looks at Josh, then at Amanda, “This is a government matter, Ms. Clark.  I need to speak with Professor Sails alone.  If you see anything again, please call me on my cell.”  Natan pulls a business card from her pocket and hands it to Amanda.  “Don’t call my office.  I’m never there.  My cell is best.”

Amanda takes the card and replies, “Okay.”  Then under her breath says, “Why do I always get a cute woman’s number for all the wrong reasons?”  Amanda leaves the office.

Natan closes in on Josh.  “You have copies, right?”

“Of course not.” Josh runs his hand over his forehead.  “I haven’t even had time to review them all, let alone copy them.”  His eyes reveal stress as he looks around the office again. “Who would even know what I had in there?”

“Looks like someone knows a lot more than we do,” Natan says.

“Let’s focus on the most important issue here…the symbol shadings,” he replies.

“We’ll find them,” she tries to reassure him.

It doesn’t help.  “They may be as important to this as you are.  Did you catch up with him or find any clues, at least?” he asks.

“Clues?  Who am I?  Cagney or Lacey?” Natan retorts.

“You know what I mean,” Josh looks away.

“He was carrying a gun…government issue.”

“So?”

Natan continues, “The guy was carrying a gun reserved for certain branches of the federal government, like the F.B.I., C.I.A., D.E.A., N.S.A., among others.”  Josh raises his shoulders with a vacant look.

Natan shakes her head, “I can understand how you were arrested in Mexico.

It means someone from the government is interested in you.”

“Who?”

Natan replies, “That is the question.  And, if we can answer that, we’ll be able to get the symbols back and piece together the rest of the pieces of this photo puzzle.”

“So what do we do now?” Josh is devastated by the loss.

“We wait,” she says, “And I’ll have the lab check for any forensic evidence on the package in the meantime.  I’ll be in touch.”  Natan leaves the office.  Just as the door closes there is a knock.

Amanda pops her head back in and addresses Josh, “Do you have a moment?  I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Just one,” he replies, “I’m on my way out.”

Amanda enters the office.  “How do you know that N.S.A. woman, Josh?”

“Amanda, I need you to keep your meeting today with Agent Natan confidential.”

“Why?”

Josh replies, “Could you just do this for me?  It’s important.”

“Josh, what’s going on?”

Josh doesn’t answer.

Amanda continues, “Okay.  I’ve been incredibly patient here.  I mean, first you get me to loan you my brother’s G.P.S. with no explanation…which you bring back all dented and scratched…”

Josh interrupts her, “I told you I was sorry about that.”

“Yeah,” she continues, “but you wouldn’t tell me how it happened.”

“I told you I dropped it when I was hiking.”

“Hiking where?  Mexico?” she probes.

“How did you know that I went to Mexico?”

“You left a copy of your itinerary in the lounge.  I slipped it under your door last week.  Didn’t you see it on the floor?”

Josh looks around, “No.  I don’t remember seeing it.”

“And, you know that Ryan is going to come back from Iraq and kill me himself because his equipment is jacked.  I was never supposed to loan it to anyone.”

“I seriously doubt he’ll kill you,” Josh replies to the melodrama.

“Josh, this isn’t funny.  You know he’s the only one in my family still speaking to me.”

“I’m sorry.  I’m dealing with my own things right now,” he says.

Amanda continues, “And now you’re involved with this woman from the N.S.A.  Are you in trouble or what?  What was in your bag?  Why is a man snooping around here?”  Amanda touches Josh’s arm.  “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’m not in any kind of trouble.  I can’t go into detail right now.  Just keep this under wraps for the time being, all right?”

“Josh, I need a better explanation than that,” she says.

Josh grabs Amanda by her arms. “I need you to trust me.”

A stunned Amanda relinquishes. “Okay, fine.  But I’m just worried about you.  You know that you can trust me, right?”

“Don’t worry.  I do trust you, Amanda, and I appreciate your concern…”

Amanda jokes, “Just remember that next time you schedule me for back-to-back T.A. assignments.”

“Sure thing.”  Josh gathers his keys and jacket, “Now, I’ve got to run.  Lock up for me, will you?”

“If I do, that agent won’t be back to question me again, will she?”

Josh grabs the first symbol page from his desk drawer and as he’s leaving Josh says, “Only if you steal my test notes again.”  Josh rushes from the office, leaving Amanda behind.

Amanda shouts after him, “I borrowed those, Mr. Hilarious.”

Chapter Twelve

Inside the N.S.A. Natan stands in front of Marsh as he sits at his desk.  “You requested me, Sir?” she asks.

Marsh’s voice grumbles a bit. “So, you still want me to believe that you don’t know Professor Josh Sails?”

“Sir?”

“There’s evidence that you have been in contact with Professor Sails since your return from Mexico.”

“Sir?”

“Agent Natan, please take a seat.”

“I’ll stand, Sir.”

“Agent Natan, sit…please.”  Natan sits in a chair in front of Marsh’s desk.  Marsh leans in, speaking in a lowered voice, “I’m concerned for you, Agent Natan.”

“Concerned about what, Sir?”

“This is just between you and me…” Marsh rings his hands together as he looks at Natan intently. “As you know, the N.S.A. has been involved in a blanketed domestic wiretapping program.  What you don’t know is that all government department telecommunications received after the Boston incident have been included in that agenda.  All calls have been recorded and logged in a separate database…”

Natan’s shock interrupts him. “What?  I knew the civilian wire tapping and data mining was extensive, but now they’re monitoring their own?  Is the N.S.A. still facilitating this?”

“We are…along with the C.I.A.  They needed someone to monitor the monitorer.  I guess they’re trying to find Al Queda cooperatives within the government.  Things are unfolding within the government that are shocking, Agent Natan.”

Natan shakes her head. “It was only a matter of time.”

“It gets worse.  I’ve been instructed to question you regarding your contact with Professor Sails…”

Natan replies, “Well, if my calls have been logged, Sir, you’d know that he contacted me here just after my return from Mexico.”

“The fact that he’s contacted this office on more than ten occasions has been brought to my attention,” he says.

“Sir, it may not be completely appropriate to have contact with an individual from a case after the case terminates, but it isn’t illegal or even directly recognized to be against agency protocol, particularly with this case, as strange as it was.”

Baxter looks at Natan directly. “You’re right about that…but conspiracy is recognized as such.”

Natan is appalled. “Conspiracy?  Of what?”

“Do you recall your conversation, Agent Natan?”

“Yes.  I haven’t engaged in any…”

Marsh interrupts Natan by playing a digital tape of the call, a filtered Natan’s voice emerging from the tape. “Professor, why are you calling me here?”

A filtered Josh’s voice answers her, “Agent Natan, I must finish our discussion from the plane…the Code…things have already been set in motion.”

“I can’t discuss this now, Professor.”

“There is little time, Agent Natan.  Can you meet me at the university tonight?”

“It won’t look good for me to meet you.  I can’t be involved in this, Professor.  As an N.S.A. agent, I can’t be a part of this.”

Josh pleads, “It’s urgent.  I have something I need to show you.”

“Does this involve the end date and the symbols?”

“It involves you, Agent Natan.  Lives may rest in your hands.”

“When and where?” she replies.

“Mathematics building.  Third floor.   Nine p.m.”  Josh pauses on the tapes, “Thank you, Agent Natan.  You won’t regret it.”

Marsh and Natan hear dial tone.  Marsh looks at Natan, “Did you meet with him?”

“Yes Sir, I did,” she confirms.

“Do you have an explanation?” he inquires.

“That conversation places me under suspicion of some conspiracy?”

Marsh replies, “The language involved and the matter discussed raised some flags.  Right now it’s deemed an unofficial inquiry.  But, as I said, I’ve been instructed to clear things up.”

“Clear things up, Sir?”  Natan pulls on her jacket tail as she cocks her head at Marsh. “You know me, Marsh.  What would I be conspiring to do…make Knight’s coffee taste better?  I mean really.”

“This came from the top, Agent Natan.”  Marsh looks down, unable to look her in the eye.  “There are concerns that you and this professor are involved in some sort of covert operation…possibly smuggling Mexican artifacts or something….  Congressman Bradshaw, the congressional official who requested help for the Professor, will even be questioned about his involvement.”

“What?!?  How’d they come up with smuggling?” Natan fumes.

“Some history with the professor and his experience with artifacts.”

“And what about you, Chief Marsh?  Are you being investigated for issuing the order as a favor?”

“I was asked to state my case and that seemed to appease them…for the time being.  Though, this could get very sticky very quickly for you, Agent Natan.”

Natan throws her hands up. “Only an inquiry, Sir?  With all this?”

“You know, Agent Natan, I do know you and I’m surprised that you haven’t yet told me why the professor arranged to meet with you.  What is this about?”

“Sir.  It sounds like you all have manufactured your own story already.”  Natan loses patience. “With a version like that, mine would only pale in comparison.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Marsh replies, “I’m on your side here, Agent Natan.  I don’t know how this whole investigation began or why.  But, you should also know that they’ve interviewed the customs agents that you both checked in with at the airport.  They’re reviewing everything.  Agent Natan, I hope you can recognize the seriousness of this.  Even with Boston on your record, I’m worried.”

Natan takes a breath. “You shouldn’t be, Sir.  I’m at a loss here.”

“Well, you better get a solid explanation pronto because Baxter wants one within the hour.”  Marsh taps his pen on his desk.  “That’s all I got.”

Natan gets up from her chair and starts to leave.  She stops, turning back to him. “Thank you, Sir…for informing me ahead of time.  I hope you aren’t dragged into this any more than you have been.”

“Don’t worry about me, Agent Natan.  Just cover your own ass.  And, I know you value privacy, Agent, but you need to get whatever this is out in the open.”

“I’ll do my best, Sir.”  Natan leaves the office as Marsh sits at his desk, tapping a file in front of him.  He slowly opens a file with Josh’s photo and information in it. Who are you, Professor Sails?

Chapter Thirteen

Inside the N.S.A.’s general offices, Agent Knight greets Natan holding a present wrapped in cartoon police officer wrapping paper.  The blue paper depicts cartoon cops with guns chasing bandit crooks with stolen toasters.

Knight addresses his partner. “Agent Natan.  I heard you have to visit with the top bull dog today, so I thought you’d need some cheering up.”

Natan replies, “If only the rest of the world knew that the N.S.A. just can’t keep secrets…”

Knight smiles coolly. “We keep the most important ones.”

“Right.” Natan isn’t convinced.

Knight hands her the gift.

Natan is curiously shocked. “You got me a gift?  My birthday is months away.”

He replies, “I wanted to.  Besides, it’s for both of us.”

Natan unwraps the gift, “Both of us…”  She laughs when she sees that it’s a very typical alarm clock.

“Very clever, Knight.”

“Now you won’t be late again, Agent Natan, and it won’t reflect negatively on me…your handsome and prompt partner.”

“I see.”  Natan gives Knight a miniature curtsy. “Well, thank you for the self-absorbed gesture.”  She puts her hand over her heart.  “It truly means a lot.”

Knight half salutes her, “My pleasure.”  The two chuckle.  Knight redirects the conversation. “Now are you ready to tell me why you’re in the doghouse just after you were wearing the robes of heaven from the Boston case?”

Natan doesn’t budge. “Another time.  I want to relish this moment with our gift.”

Knight pats Natan on the shoulder. “I can’t wait to hear it.  I always knew you had a naughty side.”

“Yeah, that’s me, Agent Naughty.”

Knight teases her, “Great nickname.  That’s definitely a keeper.”

Natan realizes the mistake.  Uh oh.  I can hear it already.

Knight walks over to his desk, sits down, and starts typing on his computer.  He turns to Natan. “Oh…Natan…some package came for you from the lab.  It’s on your desk.  You aren’t working a case without me, are ya?”

“No, no.  Just routine stuff.  Did you open it?”

“No.  Lab courier said it was for your eyes only,” he replies.

Natan walks over to her desk, ten yards from Knight, puts the alarm clock gift down, and picks up the envelope, opening it slowly.  “Thanks for the gift, partner.  It should come in handy.”

Knight teases, “That’s my job, Agent Naughty.”  Natan waves Knight away as she reviews the page from the envelope.  Knight returns his attention to his computer.

Natan looks at her watch. “Ugh.  I’ve got to get to my meeting.”  She hastily sets aside the package that has information about Josh and her and rushes out the door.

Natan walks down the hall toward Baxter’s office.  Alice spots her and approaches with urgency. “Kate, I need to speak with you.”

Natan continues walking. “I don’t have time right now, Alice.”

Alice stops her with her hand. “Katherine.  I’ve left a dozen messages.”

Natan stops just feet from Baxter’s door.  Alice lowers her voice, “There are things in the works.”

“Don’t I know it.  I’ve got a meeting with Baxter.  I can’t be late, Alice.”

“Watch your back, Kate.”

Natan looks Alice in the eye. “I will.”

Alice vanishes down the hall as Natan lingers outside Baxter’s door.  She takes a breath and knocks.  Baxter answers, “Come in.”

Natan enters and approaches Baxter as he stands looking out the window.

“Sir.  You requested me?” she asks.

Baxter doesn’t greet Natan but instead continues looking out the window. “Agent Natan.  You mind telling me why you went outside agency protocol and continued having contact with that professor you retrieved from Mexico?”

Natan shifts uncomfortably, “He contacted me, Sir, and I wasn’t exactly outside of agency protocol.”

Annoyed, Baxter turns to face Natan. “I’m a busy man, Agent Natan…defending America against terrorism.  You know…the entire United States…that’s fifty states that are dependent upon me doing my job. I don’t need preoccupation with this type of internal situation.”

Natan looks at him calmly and tries to speak, “Sir…I…”

Baxter interjects, “What I’m trying to say is I don’t have time for this crap, Agent Natan.”

“Yes Sir.  I understand, Sir,” she replies.

“Do you?”  Baxter maneuvers toward his desk, placing both hands down as he leans into Natan.  “It’s also puzzling to me just exactly how you were requested for that assignment, Agent.  Marsh attempted to answer that question and it only led to additional questions that need to be asked of Congressman Bradshaw.  And, I have many other unanswered questions about several different areas of your dealings with this professor.  My gut says that something isn’t right.  Though I’m sure it will all come out in the wash in due time.”

Natan tries to retaliate. “Sir, my trip to Mexico in the first place would qualify more as stepping outside of agency protocol then my contact with the professor…”

Baxter interrupts her again. “I’m aware that Agent Marsh issued the order as a congressional favor.  Marsh has already attested to that fact and has stated that when the case was issued to you, it was met with inquiry and borderline protest.”

“I wouldn’t say protest, Sir.”

“Would “resistance” work better for you, Agent Natan?”

“Yes Sir.  It would.  And, I can explain…”

Baxter doesn’t want to hear it, interrupting her yet again, “Now I know you’ll succinctly construct the perfect excuse for your actions which your report will reflect, so please spare me your response, Agent.  And, given your record, that may be sufficient for the powers that be, so let’s save time for both of us, shall we?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good.  I want that report on my desk before the end of the day.”  Baxter takes a deep breath, straightening his stance. “I want you to understand that even with your glowing commendations and a detailed report outlining your angelic motives, because of the nature of this, your actions will be reviewed.”

“I understand, Sir,” she replies.

“Consequences will be rendered for any inappropriate conduct, Agent,” Baxter asserts.

“Sir, I can assure you that none of my actions warrant those measures.”

Baxter answers condescendingly, “Let’s hope not, Agent Natan.”

“I’ll file my report this afternoon, Sir.”

“Good.  And, the truth will emerge.  Of that, I’m sure,” he replies.

Baxter sits as if he’s a king on his throne.  “Just remember, that like God, the N.S.A. is omniscient.”

“I understand, Sir.”

“I don’t want to see you back in this office unless the President himself requests it.”

“Yes Sir.”

“And, Agent Natan, I suggest you end contact with Professor Sails…it would behoove you.  That’ll be all.”

“Yes Sir.”  Natan turns on her heel and leaves the door cracked open as she exits.

Baxter watches her leave.  It’s only a matter of time, Agent Natan.

Agent Natan collects herself as she walks down the hall toward the elevator.  She pushes the button.  The elevator dings and she gets on.

Baxter’s yes agent emerges from a hidden door in the office as Baxter sits behind his desk.  “Fill me in on your progress,” he says as he addresses paperwork in front of him.

The agent flips through a file in his hand. “Yes Sir.  She had contact with the professor again yesterday.  I believe she also met with his research assistant, Amanda Clark.”

Baxter replies, “There will be no mention of this in her report, I can assure you.  We’ll let her hang herself.  Do you know why they were meeting?”

“Not yet, Sir.  I’m still investigating.  And I have this for you, Sir.”  The agent hands Baxter an envelope.

“More evidence?”

“Yes, Sir…copies of a photo of Agent Natan and Professor Sails and a letter also, hot off the presses.”

“Good work, Agent.  Add it to the file.”

“Thank you, Sir.  I secured the copies this morning.  And, if I may, I have a hunch that Marsh may know more than he’s revealing.  You’re aware that he’s soft on Agent Natan and will be an ally to her.”

“I’m aware of that,” Baxter replies.

“Should I follow him up, Sir?”

“Do it.  Find out whatever you can.  Use whatever means necessary.”

“Yes, Sir.”  The agent disappears through the door he came in.

Chapter Fourteen

Natan sits in her parked car in a parking garage on this crisp starlit evening.  Josh approaches, looks around carefully, opens the door, and gets in the passenger seat.

Natan greets him, “Thanks for coming.”

“I feel like a secret agent.  Things touchy at work?” he replies.

“You have no idea.  You better get used to this because this is how we’ll have to meet from now on.”

“From now on?  You’re on board?”

“Hold your horses there, champ.  And I thought my childhood was complicated by Biblical agenda.  Who knew?  Any luck with the bag?” she asks.

“None.”

Natan hands Josh the envelope.

A hopeful Josh replies, “Did you find anything?”

Natan explains, “The lab couldn’t find any prints or D.N.A.  I mean nada.  But I think the man with the gun was someone from our agency or possibly the C.I.A.  You are being investigated…we both are.”

“What?  Why?” Josh begins to worry.

“They think we’re smuggling Mexican artifacts…something about your past, Professor.  We can’t be seen together again.  And, they’re monitoring our calls.”

“That’s absurd.”

“I know,” she says, “It’s not the end of it either.  Things just continue to escalate.  We have to be extremely careful from now on.”  Natan reaches behind Josh’s seat. “But…this should brighten your day.”  She hands Josh the papers he gave her at the university.

“You finished reviewing them?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He smiles. “It’s compelling, isn’t it?”

“I will say that even with my expanded clearance, I had no idea that in the Gulf War the Israeli Government used the Code to help fight against attacks.  I’ve never seen any evidence that the U.S. has used the Bible as a resource.  Do you think we are secretly using the Code?”  Natan watches as Josh’s face shifts from worried expectation to confident expertise.

Josh muses, “The Bible was written several thousand years ago.  The Code is founded on the writings of the Old Testament.  And, even though the Bible is the world’s best selling book, I can’t imagine the United States Government wrapping their collected brain around it enough to utilize it.”

Natan counters, “You know the C.I.A did do top secret research on remote viewing.”

“Yeah,” he says, “but claiming that there are hidden messages in the Bible that provide answers outlining past and future events is a different thing entirely from top secret spying.  The Code has caused a great debate, one that goes way beyond the two of us, Agent Natan.  There are just as many critics of the Code as there are proponents.

“Critics say that the Code is a coincidence, a fluke, and compare it to other metaphysically charged topics like Nostradamus and astrology.  Proponents say that it has a mathematical and scientific foundation.  Until my research, I didn’t even believe in it either.”

“That’s hard to imagine.”  Natan watches him closely.  He has such passion for this.

“You know some proponents argue that using the Code to tell the future is wrong,” he says.

Natan replies, “Yeah, but that’s what you want us to do.”

“Agent Natan, I don’t know what we’re supposed to do.  I’m just following the bread crumbs.”

“Professor, you really believe the world is going to end in six years?”

“It looks that way, Agent Natan.  And, what if we may be the only way to stop it?  Regardless, it looks like we’re on our own with this…at least for the time being.”

Josh flips the envelope over and sees that it has the word chalal scribbled on it.  “What’s this?” he asks curiously.

“What?” Natan looks protective.

“This writing here.”  He points to the envelope.  “Did you write this?” he asks.

“Yeah, so?” she answers nonchalantly.

“Why did you write that word, Agent Natan?”

“It’s a word I heard recently.”  Natan shrugs her shoulders.  “Do you know it?”

“Yes, I do.  Chalal means beginning in Hebrew.”  Natan looks at Josh curiously.  Josh responds, “I went to Hebrew Bible study as a child.”

“Beginning?” she asks.

“Yes…beginning or to begin.  Where did you hear it?  It’s not like Hebrew abounds these days.”

Natan fumbles.  Lying isn’t her strong suit.  “I can’t recall.”

“That is an odd Hebrew word for you to just hear somewhere,” he says matter-of-factly.

She gives in. “I dreamt it, okay.”

“You dreamt it?” he asks, now more intrigued than ever.

“Yes.”

Josh is amused. “Do you usually dream in Hebrew?”

Natan replies, “This is all I dream lately.”

Josh becomes serious. “This relates to the Code.  I know it.”

Natan rolls her eyes.

“You are listed as Prophet,” he gently argues.

Natan argues back, “You do realize that my name was given to me by my adoptive parents.”

Josh continues the banter, “You do realize that your exact name, just as it was given to you, is in the Bible Code.”

“I’ll maybe buy into the mathematical complexities of the Code and the intrigue of those symbols,” Natan says, “but I am no Prophet.”

“We never truly know who we are or what we’re capable of, do we, Agent Natan?”  Josh and Natan’s eyes lock as they stare at one another intently.

Chapter Fifteen

Natan sits in a chair across from Christine Jacobs, the psychologist.  Christine holds a clipboard and pen, jotting notes as Natan fidgets nervously.  The office and therapist appear to reflect traditional psychology, the complete antithesis of Natan’s expectations.

Christine finishes with the formalities. “I’ve got all the information I need from you, Katherine, but I was just wondering why you don’t want this to go through your insurance company?  I’m pretty sure your plan would cover this.”

Natan cringes when she hears her first name and immediately corrects Christine, “Please call me Agent Natan or simply Natan.  And, I…I don’t want my work to find out that I’m here.  All hell is breaking loose there and I would just prefer to keep my wanting therapy out of it, okay?”

“No problem,” Christine assures, “I’m here for you.”

Natan looks at Christine’s professional business attire and remarks, “You know, you’re different than I expected.”

“How so?” Christine asks.

“Well, the way Alice described you, I thought you would be more…new age I guess.”

Christine muses, “You thought I’d be wearing a multi-colored dress with flowers in my hair?”

“Something like that,” Natan says.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, that’s what I look like on the inside,” Christine replies.

Natan laughs, “Good to know.”

Christine directs the conversation back to its purpose. “So, you said over the phone that you would like to work on dealing with your father’s death and you mentioned a man…”  Christine flips through her notes, “A mathematics professor who sought you out for help.  Would you care to start with either one of these?  Or…should we begin with these reoccurring dreams that you mentioned?”

Natan takes a deep breath.  She’s been avoiding the subject of her father’s death since he passed a few years back and wants to continue to do so.  She tells Christine with a shaky voice, “I’m not ready to dredge up memories about my father yet.  I’m still finding it too painful.”  Natan collects herself. “The dreams and voices thing has been in the forefront lately.  Let’s start there.”

“Voices?” Christine asks, confused.

“Uh.  Voices from the dreams,” Natan explains.

“I see.  So, do you feel comfortable telling me about your dreams?” Christine asks.

Natan takes a deep breath. “I’m not one to beat around the bush so I’ll just jump right in here if that’s okay.”  Christine nods her head yes.  Natan continues, “I have the same one over and over again.  It’s the most peaceful place in the beginning.  And then things become heavy.”  Christine listens intently, watching Natan’s breathing quicken.  Natan continues, “It’s like I’m transported somewhere…there’s a sense of something otherworldly.”  Natan pauses for a moment to think then blurts out, “Do you believe in God?”

Christine doesn’t flinch, “Yes, I do.  But, my belief in God is irrelevant here, Natan.  Why do you ask?”

“Well…I’ve never really felt God before…not really.  Never felt that connection…not one time in my life that I can recall.  But in this dream, I think I feel it,” Natan explains.

“I see.” Christine leans in to Natan. “And this is unsettling to you?”

“Well, yes,” Natan replies. “And the other part that is really unsettling…the crazy part involves this professor I mentioned.”

“Is he in the dream?” Christine asks.

“No, but he wants me to believe in something…that…just can’t be possible.”  Natan folds her hands tightly on her lap.  Christine waits for her to finish.  Natan continues, “I think that he wants to believe so badly that it may be clouding his own vision.”

Christine stops taking notes and looks at Natan. “What’s your perspective, Natan?  Are you struggling with the fact that he believes in something or that you may not believe in it?”

Natan responds, “Honestly?  I don’t want to believe him.”

“But?” Christine probes further.

“But…” Natan continues, “Some part of me inside…perhaps from the dream within, says I do.”  Natan looks away, unable to face the words she just spoke.

Chapter Sixteen

In the late evening Josh sits in his home office at his desk reviewing his shading of the first symbol.  Josh’s residence is unlike most bachelor abodes.  His mother Evalyn’s gentle touches can be seen in several of the afghan throws she knitted and placed to match his furnishings, to the plants she’s added to encourage her son to open his home to more light, and to several other delicate details strewn together to create the warmth where he now resides.

Cradled in his mother’s silent surroundings, Josh focuses on the etchings, using a magnifying glass to evaluate the pages.  He notices something unusual.  Are those numbers?  This can’t be right.  Josh rewrites the tiny Mayan dots and open circles on a larger page.  He writes dot = 1 and o = 0.

Josh pushes back from the desk. “My God.  It’s binary code,” he says aloud as he flips through the pages.  I’ll bet it’s on every symbol.  Puzzled, he reviews the pages again.  How could the Mayans have known about binary code?

In the comfort and solitude of her long-lost bedroom Natan sleeps in her bed.  There is a light knock on her front door.  Half-asleep, Natan picks up a non-ringing phone.  “Hello?” she says.  Natan hears the dial tone and realizes that she’s made a mistake.  She puts the phone down and turns on the light on her night stand.  The light knocking continues.

An annoyed Natan throws the covers off. “For the love of…” she mutters as she jumps from her bed, sporting shorts and a t-shirt.  She stumbles out of her

bedroom into the living room and heads for the front door.  The light knocking continues.

“I’m coming,” an agitated Natan answers to the annoying knocking.  Natan opens the door to a wide awake, smiling Josh.

“Agent Natan.  I’m glad you’re awake,” he boasts.

“Professor, what are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?” he asks.  Natan, half asleep, moves her body out of the way and waves him in.

“Thanks,” Josh replies, not being able to contain his elation. “Agent Natan.  I’ve found something amazing.  I know that I couldn’t call and I had to tell you, so here I am.”

“Professor, this is the first night in months that I’ve actually been able to sleep in my bed,” she pleads.

“You haven’t been sleeping in your bed?  Why?” he asks.

“Uh…never mind,” she says. “What did you find?”

His voice carries an exuberance that resonates like a jet plane to Natan. “I’ve found other Mayan symbols, embedded on the surface of the first symbol.  When I translated these, I found numbers…zeros and ones. It’s binary code, Agent Natan…a complicated encryption of binary code on the surface of the symbol.  I think I’ll find the same thing on the others as well.  We need to find that bag!”

A sleepy Natan tries to follow. “Slow down, Professor.  I’m trying to get my bearings here.”

He continues, “The Mayans were the only ancient civilization to understand the concept of zero.  They must have created it based on variations of light and quantum physics.”

“You came here about numbers and physics?  It’s 3 a.m., Professor…” Natan shakes her head, “You’re worse than my section chief.  Look, my office hours are from 9 a.m. to 10 p.m.  Learn them, Professor, and try me then.”  Natan tries to push Josh toward the door.

Josh explains more. “Agent Natan.  I’ve input the binary code into my computer and found another encryption.  It’s incredible…my computer can’t seem to break it.  Do you know what this means?”

“You need a new computer?” she counters.

“It’s revolutionary, Agent Natan.  We must find my bag.”

“Tomorrow, Professor?”

He tries to break through once more, “Agent Natan, listen to me.  Please.  This is very important.”  Natan focuses.  Josh continues, “I found a binary code hidden by the Mayans within these symbols from thousands of years ago when computers didn’t exist…that neither I, nor the university computer, can seem to crack.”

A bewildered Natan stands looking at him. “It is tomorrow,” he says.

Inside a graduate dorm room, Josh’s bag sits on a dining room table.  Amanda’s fingers trace the seams that lead to the opening of the bag.  She slowly unfastens the latch and opens the bag as she pulls out the pages.  Amanda looks down at the pages in her hand, slowly reviewing them one by one.  Mayan encryptions.  What are you involved in, Josh?

Part III

Prevention

Chapter Seventeen

August, 1984

A younger Alice stands in the early 1980s style kitchen of William’s home.  Yellow wallpaper accentuates the light green appliances Alice leans against as she attempts to console William, Natan’s adoptive father. “Bill.  I’m so sorry.  I know this has been so difficult for you.”  William cups his hand over his face as he begins to sob.  Alice approaches, placing her hand around his back, and rubs him in condolence.

William collects himself, wiping the tears away.  “I never cry.”

“It’s okay,” Alice consoles.

A young Natan stands hidden, peaking around the doorway.  She is shocked to see her adoptive father cry.

Alice attempts to reassure him. “I have my days.”

“It’s been six months,” he says. “You’d think I’d be able to deal with her not being here now.”

“I miss her too.”  Alice watches his reaction.  “How’s Katie handling it?”

“She’s been through so much, yet she’s as stoic as can be.  It’s surprising, actually.”

“It must run in the adoptive family.  But I can see she’s hurting,” she replies.

“There’s no doubt that she must be.  Would you mind talking to her, Alice?”

“Of course not, Bill.  Any time.”

“I really appreciate that…”  William’s face reveals more than he’s discussing.

Alice digs deeper, “Something else on your mind?”

“Uh…well, I didn’t want to bring this up again…” his voice trails off.

“What is it?” Alice probes.

“Alice, did you follow up on that information I gave you?” he asks.

Alice realizes what he means. “Oh.”  She shifts uncomfortably, backing away a bit. “I still haven’t found anything, Bill.  We went through the car with a fine toothed comb.  Everything was working properly.”

William shakes his head in disbelief.

Alice continues, “Car accidents happen all the time.”  Alice reaches out to touch William’s shoulder.  “Bill, I think if you stop looking for an outside conspiracy, you may be able to begin the healing inside.”

William pulls away, affirming his point. “I just know there’s something to this.”

Alice continues, “We went over everything.  There were no mechanical issues.  Why do you keep hanging on to this?”

“It’s…it’s something that Katie said,” he replies.

Young Natan perks up at her name as she stares from a distance.

“Something Katie said?  What are you talking about?” Alice questions.

William recollects to a memorable night months before.  In the late evening, in a dimly lit room, Natan sleeps in her bed as William approaches.

William continues his story to Alice as he replays the night in his mind. “The night before Jacqueline’s accident, I went to her room to tuck her in.  You know since we adopted her, she always thought that was silly, her being eleven and all.  She thought she was an adult because she surpassed ten.  “Ten-year-olds don’t need tuck-ins,” she said.  I was on the phone longer than I expected and when I got to her room…she was already asleep.”

“Bill, you’re rambling here.  What are you talking about?” Alice probes him.

He continues, “I went to kiss her goodnight on the forehead and she spoke to me…I thought I woke her, but she was still sleeping.  Her body was tense and she was covered in sweat.”  Alice locks eyes with William as he continues, “I shook her and she wouldn’t wake up.  It was like…she was lost somewhere…lost in another place…another world.”

“What did she say?” Alice asks.

Natan leans up in the bed, eyes closed, and utters, “Prevent it.  Not an accident.”  William stands speechless as he watches his adoptive daughter.

July 29, 2006

The words echo in Alice’s mind as she sits at her desk returning from her visit to the past, from the bridges of her memory.  She looks down at a file in front of her.  Jacqueline Natan’s file sits in front of her, complete with accident photos and all.  The file reads “Case Closed.”

Chapter Eighteen

Natan sits in a chair in her therapist’s office, across from Christine.  A readied Christine has a clipboard and pen in hand to take notes. “Are you still having the dreams?” she asks Natan.

Natan fidgets. “Yes,” she replies.

Christine jots notes. “You’re still a little nervous about being here, aren’t you?”                            “Is it that noticeable?” Natan asks.  Christine nods her head yes.

“I’m sure with time it’ll get better…” Natan tries to focus on the positive.

“As with most things,” Christine responds, putting down her pen.  “I’d like to discuss your dream a little further.  Let’s see if we can trace this back a bit.  Do you know when you began having dreams?”  Christine picks up her pen again.

Natan lets her mind drift for a moment, then responds, “I’ve had dreams ever since I was little.  But, this series of dreams lately has been happening for about six months.”

“Well, let’s start with the most obvious.  What was going on in your life six months ago?” Christine asks.

Natan reflects, “Hmmm…I had just returned from Boston…”

Christine’s pen is in overdrive. “And, what were you there for, work or pleasure?”

“It was for work,” Natan answers.

“Why don’t you walk me through the events that led you there.”

Natan eyes Christine’s clipboard. “You sure this is confidential?”

Christine looks up at Natan. “Of course…unless you intend to hurt yourself or someone else…or abuse is involved, mum’s the word.”

“Would you mind not writing this down?”

Christine sets the clipboard off to her side. “No problem.”

Natan begins her story, “My department had gotten information that there was an impending terrorist threat, targeting an east coast city.  The F.B.I. helped the N.S.A. narrow a possible occurrence to one of four cities…New York, Philadelphia, D.C., or Boston.  Four units were assembled to be dispatched to the four locations.  Surprisingly, I was chosen to head one.”

“You didn’t expect to receive this assignment?” Christine asks.

“I knew that I was up for more responsibility, but it was a bit shocking… in a good way.” Natan replies.

“That’s understandable,” Christine says. “Take me through it.”

Natan remembers the beginning.

6 Months Earlier

Marsh sits in his office behind his desk as Natan stands at attention in front of him, holding paperwork.  He watches Natan’s shocked expression as she reviews the pages. “Never thought you’d move up the ranks so quickly?” he asks.

Natan scans her paperwork in awe.  “Well, I definitely didn’t expect this,” she replies.

“Congratulations, Agent Natan.  You’re one of four, including myself, and I’ve already briefed the others.”  Marsh stands.  “You have a few minutes to review the file and then you can meet me in the Intelligence room to discuss additional details.”

“Yes, Sir.”  Marsh leaves Natan to ponder.

Inside the therapist’s office, Natan sits across from Christine.  Christine probes further, “How did that make you feel, Natan?”

Natan replies, “Elated.  Proud…afraid.”

“Go on,” Christine encourages.

Natan remembers.

Marsh stands in the front of a room full of agents.  Natan, Knight, Alice, and

several other agents sit listening to plans to thwart the attack.

Marsh begins his briefing, “Homeland Security picked up an Al Queda operative who leaked a time line for the possible terrorist attack on the east coast and passed it on to the bureau and to us.  With the bureau’s help, we’ve been able to narrow down the cities to D.C., Philadelphia, New York, and Boston.”  Marsh points to a map behind him.  “We’ve also been able to narrow the time period down to a forty-eight hour window which begins in…”  Marsh looks down at his watch, “Twelve hours.”

Agent Kalin, a cocky, overconfident, self-proclaimed sexist stands up to address Marsh.  “Chief Marsh.  Who gets the privilege of heading up the units this go round?”

Marsh continues, “I know several of you have been vying for lead position, but three agents have been pre-selected…”

Kalin interrupts Marsh, “Only three, Sir?”

Marsh continues, “Johnson, Daniels, Natan, and I will lead the four units.  I’ll be taking D.C. so I can stay close to base for any immediate necessity.”

Natan stands, interrupting Marsh, “I’d like to take Boston, Sir.”

“Daniels was assigned to that area, Natan,” Marsh replies.

Agent Daniels, the only guy to ask Natan out on more than one occasion and continuously survive the defeat, stands in the background.  “That’s okay, Chief.  I can switch with her…as long as she remembers this favor in the future.”  He winks at Natan.  As usual, Natan ignores his advances.

Marsh takes an aside to Alice, “Will the switch be an issue?”

“Not at all, Sir,” Alice says, “I’ll make the arrangements right away.”

“Fine.  Daniels, you take Philadelphia.  Johnson, that leaves you with New York.”

Johnson, the loner and wild card of the group, chirps in, “Who better to protect the big apple?”  Natan rolls her eyes.

Marsh continues, “You will be allowed three-person units, not including yourself, which are pre-assigned and delineated in your paperwork.  Review it and get your teams assembled.  Alice will be handling your transportation and technical details.  Try not to bog her down.  All right, people…the ticks of time are deafening.  Let’s get to it.  We’re looking for a bomb-type mechanism.  Chemical or biological weaponry is a probability. If you can think of it, I’m sure they have too.  Don’t forget to include the local authorities for assistance, should you find something.  Now, let’s go show those bastards what the N.S.A. can do.”

The remaining sitting agents stand and maneuver about the room, bustling around

with haste and intensity.

Natan sits in the therapist’s office across from Christine.  Christine inquires, “What made you choose Boston?”

“A feeling,” Natan replies.

“Please continue,” Christine says.

Natan reflects.

Inside the Boston N.S.A. hub, Knight, Agent Emerson (Natan’s closest male

colleague from the academy and her few early assignments), and Agent Kalin sit around a table in an depot office.  Natan stands at the head of the table with a large map of Boston on the wall in the background.

Kalin drawls, “Nothin’ like looking for a needle in a haystack if you ask me.  We have no good intel to work with here.”

Natan tries to rally the troops. “Let’s keep positive and focus on the major areas.”  She maneuvers to the map, pointing to an area. “We’ve reviewed much of this part of the city.”  Natan enlists Emerson and Knight, “Any input, fellas?”

Knight responds, “It’s a crap shoot, like Kalin says.”

Emerson disagrees. “Not necessarily.  Let’s focus on the busiest of those areas we haven’t yet covered.”

Natan appears unsettled, standing with a preoccupied, glazed looked on her face.

She rubs her forehead.

Emerson calls out, “Agent Natan.”  Natan does not respond as she is lost in thought.  Emerson tries again, louder this time, “Agent Natan.”

Natan is startled back to reality. “Yes.  What were you saying?”

Kalin interjects, “I say we start with the transit system.”

Natan has her bearings now and retorts, “Too obvious.”

Kalin argues, “You have a better idea with only eight hours left?”

Natan maneuvers to the map again. “I have a hunch.”  She points to an area on the map in the background. “Let’s start here.”   The agents realize that she’s pointing to Fenway Park.

Kalin quips, “Who’d bomb the Red Sox?”

Emerson counters, “Johnson for one.”

Kalin leans in to Knight. “Fenway?  What were they thinking putting her in a lead

position?”

Knight, Emerson, and Kalin stand outside Fenway stadium.  F.B.I., fire, and

police, including S.W.A.T., bomb squad personnel, and canine units all gather together in the background.  Natan stands off in the distance.

Knight looks at Kalin. “It’s kinda surprising that Agent Natan called out the

cavalry with so little to go on.”

Kalin responds, “Heads are gonna roll at the N.S.A. because of…her hunch.”

He taps Knight on the chest with the back of his hand.  “I can’t believe she authorized all of this with no valid proof a little more than an hour before the game is supposed to start.  I’m glad I’m not dealing with the pissed-off fans.  It’s okay though.  I’ll love to take her place as lead once this all blows up in her face…no pun intended.”

Emerson watches the betrayal. “Natan may be on to something.  I worked with her before.  She aces everything she does.  You should be proud to be a part of her team.”

Kalin chastises, “Got a little crush, Emerson?”

Emerson snickers at Kalin.

Kalin continues, “Proud to be on her team?  You mean proud to be passed over.  Everyone knows I’ve been here longer.  Damn quotas for women.  I should have been lead.”

Natan approaches.

Emerson motions to Natan. “Why don’t you express your doubts to her in person, Kalin.”

Natan acknowledges Emerson, Knight, and Kalin, nodding her head, “Agents,” as she walks by.

Kalin is silent.  Natan makes her way past the agents.

Emerson leans in to Kalin, tapping him on the chest. “Thought so.  If you can’t express your concerns directly to her, then I suggest you stow it.”

Kalin shoots Emerson a dirty look.

Natan approaches an officer in the background.

“Agent Natan, are we doing a full sweep?” he asks.

“Absolutely,” she affirms.

The officer motions behind him with his hand to all of the personnel resources in front of the stadium. “I just hope all this is warranted.”

“Specified terrorist threats always warrant serious response,” Natan retorts.

The officer fumbles, “Well, uh…we’re gonna need to wait for more men if you want it done in the time frame you specified.”

Natan eyes her watch. “We can’t wait.  We’ve got less than six hours before the forty-eight hour window expires.  Use everyone and everything you’ve got on site now.”

The officer looks around. “Well, I’ve got three with me and two have dogs.”

“That’s a good start.”  Natan shouts to everyone around her, “Ladies and gentlemen…it’s time.  Let’s get in and get out as expeditiously as possible.  Don’t want to hold up the game if there isn’t any reason to.”

People around her scurry to work.  Natan walks over to the agents.  Knight

approaches holding blueprints.  Natan follows up with him, “Agent Knight, any luck on locating the specs for the ventilation system?”

Knight waves the blueprints in front of her. “Right here…hot off the presses.  Why the ventilation system and not maintenance or electrical areas?” he asks.

Natan explains, “The Feds and city P.D. will sweep those areas.  My gut says ventilation, so that’s where we’re starting.”

Kalin retorts, “You’ve got a pretty active gut today.  You sure it’s not just indigestion?”

Natan banters, “You should trust your instincts a little more, Kalin.”  She looks to Emerson for cohesion. “Emerson, you and Kalin search the lower levels.  Let’s do this.”  Natan pulls Kalin aside, “You can voice your concerns to Marsh later.   But beginning now, I don’t want to hear another word from you unless it’s yes, you got that Agent Kalin?”

Not waiting for a reply Natan walks away leaving a stunned Kalin behind.  Natan catches up with Knight and the two head into the stadium.

A pissed Kalin fumes.  Just follow those instincts right out of your job, lady.

Chapter Nineteen

Inside the vast stadium, Natan and Knight walk down a long circular hallway.

“Did I ever tell you that I’m not a big baseball fan?” Knight inquires.

“Who doesn’t love baseball??” Natan replies.

“There’s baseball people and then there’s football people.  I’m definitely a football man myself,” he says.

“Wanna focus there, Mr. Football?” Natan says. “Which way is the main ventilation system?”

“You must be a baseball woman,” Knight affirms.  Natan gives Knight a look encouraging him to focus.  “Right,” Knight continues as he looks at the blueprints and then his surroundings.  He points to his right. “It’s down this way.”  Natan follows Knight down a long hallway.  Knight continues, “It should be coming up.”

Outside among the stadium seats, several police officers and canines run through the stadium seating, allowing the dogs to sniff for explosives.

Inside the stadium, Natan and Knight continue searching as they arrive at a door labeled “Ventilation Access.”  Knight tests the knob.  The door is locked.  The agents draw their weapons as Natan gives a yes nod to Knight.  Knight kicks in the door and they enter.

Inside the ventilation room, Natan and Knight meander through large segments of air duct components and loud mechanical air flow mechanisms.  Knight continues as Natan stops, lowering her weapon.  She looks around again, then holsters the gun.  An object in the corner catches her eye.  Natan yells, “Agent Knight!”

“Yeah?” he calls.

“I think I found something.  Get the others on the radio, will ya?”

Knight holsters his weapon and grabs his radio, pushing the button. “Agents

Knight and Natan need backup in the ventilation room on level three of the complex.”

A filtered Emerson’s voice responds, “Copy that.  We’re on the way.”

Natan stands looking up at a corner of the ventilation segment.  She sees a

chemical bomb counting down. It’s at 62:22, as the seconds tick.  Natan motions for Agent Knight.  He walks up to Natan.  “What do ya got?  Did you find something?” he asks.

Natan motions to the bomb.  Knight replies, “Oh damn.”

Natan jokes, “Guess the people who left this must not be baseball fans either.”

Several F.B.I., N.S.A., police and fire officials gather in and around the room.  The bomb squad commander enters.  “Everyone out,” he says. “Clear the interior and exterior perimeters.  Take the exterior perimeter back as far as you can get it.”

Natan reinforces the order, “You heard the man.  Let’s move.”

Knight and others head out.  The Commander stays behind, dropping his

equipment on the floor below the bomb.

The commander addresses Natan, “That means you too, Agent.”

Natan asserts herself, “I’m required to remain on site.”

“Bomb squad personnel only,” he reiterates.

Natan looks at the bomb.  It reads 55:03, as the seconds tick. “Do you really

wanna spend time arguing with me?”              she asks.

“Just stay out of my way.”

Natan tosses her hand up, “I’m out.”

Natan stands clear, eyeballing the perimeter and the outer casing of the bomb.

The commander says, “This definitely contains a dispersing agent…probably chemical.  Whatever it is, if it blows, the wind will carry it several miles.”

“Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen, all right?”

“I’m working on it,” he says, frustrated.

Outside Fenway, Agent Knight is on the phone, walking away from the stadium perimeter as people in the area continue evacuating.  A crowd of fans builds on the far side of the parking lot behind a barricade.  Knight briefs Marsh, “Sir, we’ve located the target.”

Marsh’s filtered voice reverberates loudly through the phone, “Where?”

Knight informs the Chief, “We’ve located a bomb in the ventilation system at Fenway Park.”

Marsh continues, “Jesus.  How’d you find that?”

“Agent Natan had a hunch, Sir.”

“Well, that’s a hell of a hunch, Agent Knight.”

“Yes, Sir…it is.”

“What’s the status?” Marsh asks.

“The bomb squad is on it as we speak,” Knight replies.

“Why didn’t Agent Natan call this in personally?”

Knight reveals, “Agent Natan stayed behind to assist, Sir.”

“How much time?” Marsh asks with concern.

“Less than an hour, Sir.  City P.D. is holding the perimeter to prevent fans from entering the stadium,” Knight replies.

Marsh continues, “I’ll contact Baxter.  I’m sure he’ll want to alert the President.”

“I’ll update you shortly, Sir.”

“I’m on my way, Agent Knight.  Make sure Natan gets out of there.”

Knight says, “I’ll do my best, Sir, but the bomb squad commander couldn’t even get her to leave…not sure I’ll have much better luck.”

“Man the hatches, Agent Knight, until I get there.”  Marsh hangs up and Knight hears dial tone.

Inside the ventilation room, sweat streams from the commander’s forehead as he

wipes his brow.  Natan’s face also glistens as the stress emanates from each of them.  The bomb reads 45:38, as the seconds tick.  Natan inquires, “Should I start getting a little concerned here?”

The commander fiddles with the wiring, “I almost got it.”

“When you say almost, how long are we talking?” Natan asks as she holds her breath.

The commander expresses his annoyance, “Almost as in stop talking to me so I can do my job.”

“I’m just wondering if we’re talking minutes or longer.  I’m not a very fast runner is all…” her voice trails off.  The bomb continues ticking, 43:57.  The commander continues fiddling.  Assessing the situation, Natan starts to back up.

The Commander cuts a red cord and the bomb reads 00:00.  “Ye of little faith,” he says, relieved.  Natan joins him in her own sigh of relief, joking, “Uhh.  I was wondering if I was gonna have to practice my sprinting.”

“All that chit-chat must have slowed me down,” the commander replies.

“Didn’t you find my presence encouraging?” Natan quips.

“Not especially,” he replies.

“Okay, okay, duly noted,” she says.  Natan starts to walk away.

The commander softens, relinquishing his thanks. “Agent Natan, it’s a damn good thing you found this when you did.”

“We were lucky,” she replies.

“Well, thank God for luck then,” the commander says.  Natan smiles to herself.

A jubilant Natan and the commander emerge from the stadium to an applauding crowd of law enforcement personnel.  Natan begins clapping for the commander also.  She addresses everyone, “Thank goodness for the bomb squad!”

The commander replies, “Thank God for the N.S.A.”

Knight, Emerson, and Kalin stand in the background watching events unfold.

Knight addresses the fellas, “Still think there’ll be a game?”

Emerson motions to fans in the background. “Twenty bucks says they won’t be

able to hold those Sox fans back more than fifteen minutes.”  Knight and Kalin look at one another.  Emerson continues, “What?  No takers?”

Knight shakes his head at Emerson, “Not me.”  Kalin ignores the wager altogether.

Unnoticed in the distance, huddled in the crowd of fans, Josh and his father stand on the street behind a barricade waiting to be let in to see the game.  A police officer stands in front of them and the barricade holding the crowd back.

Emerson taunts Kalin, “Looks like you’ll be waiting for that lead position a hell of a lot longer huh, buddy?”  Emerson pats Kalin on the back as he walks toward Natan.

Knight admits, “I guess she is a pro.”

Kalin is dazed.  Emerson congratulates Natan in the background.  Kalin pulls

Knight aside.

Kalin replies, “How could she have known all of the details?  Boston,

Fenway Park, the ventilation system.”  He eyes Natan angrily, “It doesn’t make sense.”

Knight retorts, “Instincts, my man.”  Knight pats him on the shoulder.

“Just enjoy the fact that our team found it.  We’re heroes, man.”  Knight walks away, leaving Kalin standing alone brooding to himself.  Instincts my ass.  Something isn’t right.

In the therapist’s office Natan sits across from Christine, who sits with her hands folded in her lap, listening intently to the end of Natan’s recollection as if she is watching a play being reenacted.  Christine comments, “You know I heard rumors that a terrorist plot had been averted on the east coast.  I had no idea they were really true.”

“That’s the way the government wants to keep it,” Natan replies.

Christine continues, “You must feel so fulfilled to know that you prevented such a significant event.  You know that Fenway always hosts a sell-out crowd.”

“I know,” Natan says. “It was all overwhelming actually.  The President quietly commended our team.  That was definitely a memory to keep.”

“I bet.”  Christine picks up her pen, tapping it on the notepad.  “You know there has to be a connection between this event and your dreams.  The time line just makes sense.”

“You think so?” Natan asks.

“I do,” Christine replies. “Tell me more about these hunches of yours.”

“What’s to tell?  Don’t most people who work in law enforcement have hunches?” Natan asserts.

“Perhaps.”  Christine leans in. “Describe the sensation or feeling you get when you experience one of these hunches.”

Natan thinks for a moment before she replies, “It starts in the pit of my stomach…then resonates throughout me.  Does that make sense?”

“I think so.”

Natan shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know…I just knew somehow.”

Agent Natan walks out of Christine’s office.  A shadowed woman watches Natan from a car.  Agent Natan gets to her car and clicks the auto-unlock on her key chain.  She gets into the vehicle.  The light catches Amanda as she watches in the shadows, scribbling Natan’s license plate number down on a pad.  Natan is oblivious.

Chapter Twenty

At the University of Maryland, Josh sits in his office at his desk reviewing more Code papers.  The phone rings as he jerks with surprise, picking up the phone. “Professor Sails here.”

In his congressional office, Kent stands looking out a window as he speaks on his office phone. “Josh.  We need to talk.”

Josh puts his pages down on his desk to give Kent his full attention. “Congressman.  To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Kent’s voice is terse. “When you said you would be showing up at my door with a unicorn, I never thought it would be N.S.A. and C.I.A. agents.  Was your surprise a dozen agents searching my office and questioning me about Mexican artifacts?  Or was the surprise something about you perhaps smuggling said artifacts into the country?”  Josh is silent.  “What have you gotten me into, Josh?  What the hell is going on?”

Josh stammers, “Kent, this may not be the best time to discuss this.”

Kent continues, “Yeah, well, seeing that I helped you get back into the country and am now being investigated, when the hell do you think would be a good time?”

“Rest assured I’m not smuggling anything,” Josh promises.

“How am I supposed to know what’s going on, Josh?  Remember your history?”

“That was a long time ago, Kent.”

Kent cannot contain his anger. “Okay, let’s focus on the present then.  First you tell me to meet with you to discuss this amazing discovery…that you only vaguely elude to.  Then you get arrested for what I thought was trespassing, ask for my help…which I give…and the next thing I know, my position on the subcommittee, not to mention my seat in Congress, may now be in jeopardy because of my dealings with you.”

“Kent, you know me,” Josh replies.  “This is all just a big misunderstanding.  I truly am sorry that you’ve been put through this.  I can’t go into detail now, but I promise you I’ll make things right.”

“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.”

“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 from 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.

The priest continues, “My son…”

Tattoo man angrily interrupts him, “I need to be forgiven!” He jumps up from the confession booth and slams his hands against the metal divider, hitting it over and over again.  His hands are cut and begin to bleed.

Tattoo man pleads, “Please Father…forgive me!”  He sobs as he maneuvers out of the booth, falling to his knees, where his bloody hands blend with the plush red carpeting.  In agony, tattoo man peers out toward the other people of various faiths, sobbing uncontrollably.

The vision shifts and Natan finds herself standing in a dimly lit parking lot of a vacant warehouse.  She looks around, appearing confused and unsure.  In the distance a man’s voice calls to her, “Who can you trust, Agent Natan?”

Natan tries to pull her gun and finds an empty holster.  Visibly shaken, she replies, “Who’s there?”

The man’s voice is closer, “If you have no God…then, who can you trust, Agent Natan?”

Natan backtracks, hastily looking for an escape. “Who are you?”

The man’s voice surrounds her. “The answer is…no one.”

A shot rings out from the darkness.  Natan’s body falls to the ground, her head hitting the ground in slow motion.  Blood gently streams from the back of her neck onto the cement near her.

Natan’s vision shifts back to the priest as he steps out of the confession booth and places his hand on the crying tattoo man’s head.  With his head bowed, the priest absolves him, “You are a man of God and follow his word.”

A single tear falls from the priest’s eye.  Natan sees Mayan symbols reflected in it.  The priest touches his tear as it falls and, using his fingers, blesses the tattoo man in an upside-down and backward shape of a cross. “In the name of the Holy Spirit…the Son…and the Father.  You are forgiven, my son.”

On the busy street, an out-of-breath Natan jerks back from a chaotic roller coaster of sorts, pulling away from the tattoo man and freeing herself from their entanglement.  The tattoo man inquires, “Ms.  Are you okay?”

Natan is shocked and frazzled.  The only sound she can hear is her racing heartbeat.  She rubs her forehead with one hand.  Collecting herself, she replies, “I’m fine.  Again, I apologize.”  Natan starts to walk away as the tattoo man rushes after her.

Tattoo man picks up the dropped page. “You dropped this.”

Natan turns around as the he hands her the paper.  Natan reaches out for it.

Natan sees Mayan symbols reflected in his eyes from the page.  She jerks back.  She looks back at the document.  No sign of the symbols…the page appears normal.

Tattoo man asks, “Are you sure you’re okay, ma’am?” He extends the page again

and hands it to Natan, who reaches out for it.  Natan and tattoo man stare into one another’s eyes.  Natan slowly takes the page.  She walks away with page in hand, glancing down at its normalcy, and then turns around once more to look at the tattoo man.  Natan’s face reflects her recognition of subtle familiarity.

Tattoo man stands looking after Natan.  She walks on, inching away from the darkness.  He watches her until she vanishes in the distance and pulls a photo from his inside pocket.  He gently touches a recent photo of Natan, caressing it between his thumb and his forefinger.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Inside Natan’s house, she sleeps on her couch, with several articles in opposition to the Bible Code strewn around her.  One specific article titled “The Bible Code Is a Fallacy” rests on her abdomen.  The phone rings, startling Natan awake.  Must you wake me every damn time I’m sleeping, Professor?  The phone rings again as Natan pulls herself up from the couch and makes her way to quiet the harassment.  All right already.  Natan picks up the phone.  “Hello.”

A man’s voice answers, “Agent Natan?”

Unsure of whom she is speaking with Natan responds, “Yeah…”

“Hello, Agent.  This is Dr. Berk from Virginia.  I’m returning your phone call.”  Natan doesn’t reply.  Dr. Berk continues, “Agent Natan?”

Natan gets her bearings, “Yes.  Sorry, I thought you were someone else.  Thank you for getting back to me so quickly.”

“You said that the N.S.A. had urgent questions about my work on the Bib…”

Natan cuts his sentence short, “Yes…that’s right.”

“I’m more than happy to help the N.S.A. with anything they need in this matter.  What information are you looking for?” he replies.

“I’d rather discuss this in person, Dr. Berk.  I’ll be in Virginia tomorrow and was wondering if we could arrange a meeting.”

“I have lectures in the morning until ten.  What time were you thinking?”

“Mid-morning…perhaps eleven?” she suggests.

“That should work for me.  I’ll arrange it and adjust the remainder of my schedule if necessary,” he replies.

“Great.  I’ll come to you at your office.”

“Okay.  My office is on the side south of town…”

Natan cuts Dr. Berk off again, “It’s all right.  I’ll find you.”

“Well, okay.  I’ll see you then.”

“See you then.”  Natan starts to hang up the phone and hears a quiet clicking.

Outside Natan’s house, van man sits in a van labeled “Mark’s Plumbing,” parked on the street just down the way from her house.  He fiddles with recording equipment as he pulls out a cell phone, then uncoordinatedly dials a number.  The van man speaks to his caller. “She’s meeting a Dr. Berk tomorrow morning in Virginia at eleven a.m.”

A male voice replies, “I’m on it.”

The van man hangs up the phone.    What are you up to today, Agent Natan?

Inside her house, Natan stands looking out the window at the van, staring knowingly. First it’s a heating company, now it’s a plumber.  That Mark’s a busy guy. Natan runs her fingers through her hair.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Several trees line the walks outside of Dr. Berk’s office building. Natan walks up to the entrance of the building.  A man with binoculars peers at her from a nearby rooftop.  An unaware Natan is oblivious.

Inside the building Natan stands outside a door labeled “Dr. Simon Berk, Ph.D.”

She pauses.  I guess a skeptic always doubts.  Natan opens the door and enters the reception area of Dr. Berk’s office.  She sees a secretary seated behind a desk near the entrance.  The secretary greets her, “Good morning.  You must be Dr. Berk’s eleven o’clock.”

“Yes,” Natan says.

“Okay.  I’ll let him know you’re here.”

“Thank you,” she acknowledges.

The secretary picks up the phone as Natan takes in the visuals of the office.

She eyes Dr. Berk’s many awards, accolades, and credentials strewn on every wall.  The secretary puts down the phone and motions to Natan.  “Go right in.”

“Thank you.”  Natan walks through another door.

In the interior of the office, Dr. Berk, a handsome forty-nine-year-old professor, sits

behind a perfectly organized desk.  He rises to greet Natan, extending his hand. “You were correct, Agent Natan…”

Natan shakes his hand, unsure of what he means. “I’m sorry?”

“You found me…no problem.”

Natan smiles. “It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be.  I’m surprised you’re not listed, Dr. Berk, with all of the information available about you on the Net.”

“Please,” a smiling Dr. Berk motions Natan to sit down in a chair in front of his

desk.

Natan sits. “Thank you.”

Dr. Berk continues, “Privacy is an allusive thing these days…but I’m sure a person in your position understands that.”

“Yes.  I understand that very well,” she replies.

An inquisitive Dr. Berk asks, “So…tell me, when did the N.S.A. become interested in the Bible Code?  I never would have imagined this research would ever be on their radar.”

Natan stammers, “Well, uh…the N.S.A. just recently came across information about the Code.  We hear that there are new claims that the Bible Code may actually hold mathematical certainties that help prove its validity.”

“Agent Natan…that’s impossible.  I’ve been researching the Bible Code for a decade now and, I’m sorry to say, you’ve been misinformed.  The Bible Code proponents have used the same claims that they always have…and they’re just as invalid as they have historically been.  I can’t believe the N.S.A. would have any interest in this fabrication.”

“Dr. Berk, you’re telling me you’ve found no scientific data in support of the Bible Code?”

“It’s a fairy tale, Agent Natan.  Let’s just say the research supporting the Code isn’t sound…and there is an incredible amount of concrete scientific proof in opposition to the Code.”

“What proof?”

“You mean to tell me that the N.S.A. doesn’t know about the research done with the books War and Peace and Moby-Dick?”

Natan jokes, “We used all of our resources locating you, Dr. Berk.  Let’s just assume that the N.S.A. knows very little about any opposition to the Code.”  She smiles. “We’re relying on your expertise, so, please…fill me in.”

“Right.  Well, then…you should know that researchers applied equidistant letter sequencing, the same techniques applied to the Bible Code, to Moby-Dick and War and Peace and, remarkably, found similar coded information in these two books as well.”

“What kind of similar coded information?”  she asks.

Dr. Berks gets up and maneuvers over to a bookshelf in the corner of his office.  He pulls a notebook from the shelf, handing it to Natan. “Here.”

Natan looks at the notebook.  It reads “Codes found in Moby-Dick.”

Natan flips through it, stopping on a matrix with John F. Kennedy references.

Dr. Berk continues, “Bible Code proponents claim that a close collection of information is found in a specific matrix and this supposedly helps prove their claims because this data illustrates a mathematical chance that is remote.”  Dr. Berk looks at Natan, waiting for a response.

She continues reviewing the notebook and after a few moments realizes that a silence looms, so she looks up, “And…”

“And, if that is the argument in support of the Bible Code and in your hand you hold a notebook full of matrices found in Moby-Dick that qualifies as similar data, then how valid is the Bible Code at all, Agent Natan?”  Dr. Berk motions to the notebook. “As you can see, the section of Moby-Dick you’re looking at has a matrix which includes information about John F. Kennedy.”

“I see that,” she says.

“There are others as well,” a confident Dr. Berk replies.

“What others, Dr. Berk?”

“Agent Natan, there are a slew of other matrices in Moby-Dick revealing information about other prominent figure heads, leaders, et cetera.”

Natan looks down at the open notebook again.  “I see your point.  I had no idea.”

“I wish the proponents of the Code would open their eyes to this statistical coincidence so we could finally put this debate to rest.”

Natan flips through the notebook one last time.

Dr. Berk continues, “And this notebook only contains the codes found for Moby-Dick.”  He motions toward the bookshelf across the room.  “I have a completely full notebook on War and Peace as well, which contains matrices about research on various historical Rabbis.  Would you care to review it?”

“Was any other significant information found in the two books…anything especially current?”

“Current?”  Dr. Berk looks around. “No…not that I’m aware of.”

“Okay then, I think this will be sufficient,” Natan says matter-of-factly.

“Agent Natan…you don’t honestly believe that God left a code for us to find in the Bible, do you?”

“Dr. Berk, I don’t know if I even believe in God.”

“That sounds reasonable,” he says, smiling. “You know, there is a greater statistical probability that aliens exists than there is that God exists.”

“I didn’t know that,” she replies.

“It’s mathematics…and it seems that there’s your answer, Agent Natan.”  Natan stands, nods her head in thanks, and hands Dr. Berk the notebook.

“Would you mind photocopying a few of these pages so that I can take them with me?” she asks.

“Not at all,” he replies. “I’ll have my secretary, Allison, take care of that for you.”

“Thank you for your time, Dr. Berk.  I realize you’re a very busy man.”  Natan shakes Dr. Berk’s hand again and both of them maneuver toward the door.

“In this day and age, who would be crazy enough to turn down a request for help from the government?” he adds as a side note.

“Good point,” Natan replies, as she thinks of all of the undocumented wire tapping performed by the government of which she is a part.

“Agent Natan, please assure the N.S.A. that they’d have a better chance of finding Santa Claus than verifiable data that will prove the validity of the Bible Code…excluding their chances if they try Macy’s during the holiday season.”  Dr. Berk winks at Natan.  Natan smiles and offers a nod in agreement.

Dr. Berk continues, “Have a safe drive back.  And…please feel free to call me if you should have any additional questions.”

Natan replies, over her shoulder, “Thank you…I will.”  She walks out of the office, in shock.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Inside the N.S.A. building Agent Knight waits, pacing back and forth.  Natan enters, approaches her desk, and puts her bag down, the photocopies peeking out of the side.

A stressed Knight rushes up to her. “Agent Natan.”

Natan’s voice is short. “Look, Knight, I know I’m late…I had an errand this morning…and…”

Knight interrupts her. “Baxter wants to see you in his office.”

Natan begins rubbing her forehead again. The pain escalating, she loses her cool. “Again?  What the hell did I do this time?” she asks.

Knight leans in and whispers, “Agent Natan…lower your voice.”  Knight looks around uncomfortably.

Natan looks at Knight and then looks around.  Natan whispers, “What’s going on?  Is there a reason why we’re whispering?”

Knight pulls Natan closer, whispering, “Somethin’s going down, Natan.  He requested you an hour ago and you weren’t here.  I tried to cover for you…”

Natan turns to leave, interjecting, “Don’t worry about it.  I’ll handle it.”  She storms out.

Natan stands outside of Baxter’s door.  She takes a deep breath, then knocks extraordinarily hard.  “Come in,” Baxter replies.

Natan enters the office, greeting Baxter as he sits behind his desk.

“You wanted to see me, Sir.” Her voice is terse.

“Agent Natan.  So gracious of you arrive…”  Baxter’s words trail off as he looks down at his watch.  “…Whenever the hell you like.”

Natan’s face is hard, her lips pursed for retaliation. “I had a personal matter to attend to this morning, Sir.  I called it in yesterday.  Alice should have a record of it.”

Ignoring her, Baxter flips through paperwork on his desk.  Natan continues as her agitation escalates, “Is there another reason for your tone…Sir?”

With that remark, Baxter gives Natan his undivided attention.  “Agent Natan, it’s come to my attention that you have continued having contact with Professor Sails even after I explicitly requested that you not.”

Natan rubs her forehead again as she steps forward, unable to restrain herself. “Explicitly, Sir?  I believe your words were, ‘I suggest you not have contact.’ The word ‘suggest’ implies a suggestion.  An order would have been, ‘I order you’…Sir.”  Natan swallows hard after realizing what she’s said.

Baxter’s patience is tested. “Tread lightly, Agent Natan.”

Natan backs up. “I apologize, Sir.  I just don’t understand why the N.S.A. is having such an issue with this…with me.  Who is this professor, Sir?”

Baxter tries to speak, but Natan interrupts him.  “Well, I’ll tell you who he is to me…a man I didn’t even know until the N.S.A. introduced me to him through an assignment.”

Natan rubs her forehead again, her face unable to hide the stress.

“Agent Natan, are you feeling all right?”

“I have a headache, Sir…is all.”

“Perhaps this isn’t the best time…but your recent behavior warrants this. I wanted you to know that I’ve recommended to the Advisory Committee that you be remanded to desk duty, pending further investigation into your actions of late.”

“Desk duty, Sir?” She feels a knot in her stomach.

“That’s right, Agent Natan.  And they’ve agreed.  The N.S.A. wants you in a more…observable position, until this matter is settled.”

Natan voice shields some of her anger. “The N.S.A.…or you, Sir?”

“This change is effective immediately.  That’ll be all, Agent Natan.”  Natan stands in silent shock.  “Please show yourself out, Agent.” A dazed Natan exits.

Inside the general N.S.A. offices, Agent Knight sits at his desk working on the

computer as Natan walks in, making her way to her desk.  She opens a drawer and retrieves some aspirin.  Knight notices her return and gets up to greet her. “Natan…what happened?”  Natan grabs her bag.  The photocopies are completely inside the bag now.

Natan puts her bag over her shoulder. “Well, it looks like wonders never cease there, champ.”

Knight looks confused, “What?”

“You were right about me being first to hit the desk…”

“What?” Knight doesn’t understand.

“I’ve been remanded to desk duty, effective…now.”

“What?!  Why??” he asks, upset.

“Any chance you made a killer cup of coffee today that Baxter sampled?”  A confused Knight stares silently at Natan.  She continues, “No?  Well, then, it has to be my tardiness.”  Natan starts to leave.

Knight stops her. “Wait.  Where’re you going?”

Natan replies over her shoulder. “I’m taking a sick day.”

“But…you’ve never taken a sick day,” he says.

“Yeah, well, I guess I finally caught some of Baxter’s crap that’s going around, huh?”  Natan walks out.  Knight is left standing with his mouth open.

Chapter Thirty

A pissed-off Natan walks down the corridor of Maryland University toward Josh’s office with photocopies in hand.  She gets to his open office door and sees Josh sitting at his desk, grading papers.  Natan clears her throat.  Josh sees her and stands up, confused by her presence. “Agent Natan.  What…what are you doing here?”  Josh maneuvers around the desk and approaches Natan.  The two of them stand in the doorway.  “We…we’re not supposed to be seen together…” he says.  Natan hands Josh the photocopies.  “What’s this?” he asks, flipping through the pages.

Natan’s voice shakes in anger. “What kind of personal agenda have you pulled me into, Professor?”

Josh looks down at the pages. “Moby-Dick?  What is this?”

“It’s similar Codes that have been found in the book Moby-Dick.  Oh…War and Peace also has codes…but I thought I’d seen enough.”  Josh looks shocked.  Natan continues, “What?  Like you didn’t know.”

“Know what, Agent Natan…that there are opponents to the Bible Code?              Where did you get these?” he asks.

“From Dr. Simon Berk,” she retorts sharply.

“You saw Dr. Berk?  Why?”  Josh doesn’t wait for a reply, “You know that he is one of the leading opponents in the debate over the Bible Code.  I don’t know every oppositional view out there, but it’s hard to miss his.  You should have asked me before contacting him.  This could open a dialogue that…in protecting our confidentiality...we definitely don’t want opened.”

Natan is livid.  “Should have asked you?  Why didn’t you tell me about these similar codes?”

“I haven’t been focused on opposing views…” Josh says.

Natan cuts him off. “I could lose my job over…”  She points to the pages in his hand, “this, Professor…over some forged Bible Code matrix documents…used to further your own agenda.”

Josh is beside himself.  “Look, I’m sorry about your job, Agent Natan, truly.  But, the matrix documents I showed you are real.  I have no hidden agenda.  I’ve told you all of the relevant facts that have happened on our end.  I’m focusing on what’s happening with us.”

Natan’s face registers his words. “Is that what this is about?  Some game you’re playing to establish some connection between…us?”  Another professor walks down the hall and sees Natan arguing with Josh.

Josh pulls Natan into his office.  Upon entering, Natan kicks a manila envelope that’s lying on the floor.  Josh sees the envelope also but continues, “You know, I don’t know what the hell you think you’re inferring here, but I’ll be damned if I’ll be reprimanded in front of my colleagues.  What in God’s name is going on with you?”

He bends down to pick up the envelope and opens it.  Natan rubs her forehead,

then shakes her head. “That’s just it, isn’t it?  God.”

Josh reviews the contents and holds them out in front of Natan.  “Was it you?” he accuses.

“Was what me?” she asks tersely.

Josh pushes the pages toward Natan’s face. “Were you the one who took the symbol pages?”  Natan grabs the page from Josh and looks at it.  Josh continues, “It’s the pages for symbol two.  Where are the rest of them, Agent Natan?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor.  Someone else must have left them there.”

“Did you show them to Dr. Berk?  Does he have copies now?” Josh fumes.

“Look, Professor, I met with Dr. Berk because I did my own research on the Bible Code.  I wanted to know both sides of what I’m dealing with.  The last time I saw the symbols pages,” Natan hands the pages to Josh, “was on the plane with you.”

“Who’s fooling whom here?”

“Believe what you like, Professor.  I…I just can’t do this anymore…not with my career at stake.”  Natan turns on her heel and leaves, her shoes echoing as she walks down the corridor, fading into the distance.

Alice busies herself with catch-up work in her office when she is interrupted by a knock on the door.  Natan pokes her head in.  “Are you busy, Alice?”  Alice rushes up to her, coaxing Natan inside. “Get in here.”

Natan looks beat.  “I need a favor,” she says.

Alice motions to a chair. “Come in…sit down.”  Natan sits.  Alice continues, “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you.”  Alice notices Natan’s stressed, tired eyes.  Natan runs both of her hands through her hair as she hunches over in the chair.  Alice touches Natan’s forehead with the back of her hand. “You look terrible, Kate.”

“Thanks,” Natan retorts.  Alice looks concerned.  Natan tries to ease her mind. “I’m okay.  I’ve just had a non-refundable headache for the past couple of days.”

“I heard about what happened with Baxter,” Alice broaches the topic.

“I’m sure you did,” Natan replies.

“What do you need, Kate? I mean…is there anything I can do?”

“Yeah,” Natan replies. “I need a security check…a full one.”

Alice smirks. “I meant…like chicken soup or a soda, but if work is what you want, then…”  Natan is silent.  “Who’s the victim?” Alice inquires.

Natan asks, “Can you run a check for me on a Josh Sails?  He’s a professor at the Maryland University.”

“This is the guy you picked up in Mexico, right?”

“Yeah,” Natan replies.

“Why do you need this?” Alice probes.

“I just do.”  Natan shoots Alice a don’t ask look.

Alice relents to her friend. “No problem.  But…you know I’m really worried about you, Kate.”

“I’m okay…”

“Katherine…”

“I’m okay, Alice.  I’m just…I don’t know what I am, actually.”  Alice listens.  “I’m not myself…I don’t feel like me lately.”

Alice starts to speak.  Natan waves her away.  “Never mind.  I’ll be fine.”  Natan changes the subject. “When do you think you’ll have it?”

Alice concedes, “A few hours.”

Natan holds Alice’s stare. “Thanks.  I owe you another one.”

“It’s all right.  Your total’s up to thirty-seven now.”  Natan tries to smile.  Alice rubs Natan’s shoulder. “Just take care of yourself, will ya?  Go home…rest.  I’ll get this to you as soon as I get it.”

Natan nods her head yes. “I need to know the truth.”  Alice realizes the importance of her request.

Chapter Thirty-one

Natan stands in her pajamas in front of her bathroom sink and mirror.  She hears the heartbeat again and begins rubbing her forehead as she peers into the mirror.  Natan turns on the water and splashes her face again and again.  A pool of water forms in the sink.  She stares into the water, captivated at the Mayan symbols reflected back at her.  Am I going crazy?  Natan rubs her eyes and looks again.  The symbols are gone.  Is someone trying to tell me something?  Natan peers into the water further and sees a flash.

Natan watches a young Josh; his mom, Evalyn; and Dad, Jack, as they all sit in their modest, mid-size home at a dinner table with Geographic Planet magazines scattered amidst their empty dinner plates.  The Sails never kept up with the Joneses even though they had the means.  Evalyn knew better.

Josh pushes his plate out of the way to pick up a magazine. “Mom, why do you like reading these?”

“Well…because they keep me connected to my old job and, more importantly, they teach me about different people, Josh,” his mother answers.

“But, why do you want to know about other people, Mom?”

Evalyn smiles. “That’s what anthropologists do.  And also, it helps me to be a better person.”

“But, how do these,” Josh points to one magazine, “help you be a better person?”

“Well…learning about others teaches us tolerance, honey.  Everyone is different, but we’re all the same too.”  Evalyn picks up the magazine Josh pointed to, which has a photo of an African tribesman in ancient tribal dress on the cover.  She continues, “Here.  Look at this picture, Josh, and tell me what you see.”

Jack interjects, “When are you gonna teach the boy about economics, Evalyn?”

Evalyn lovingly responds to her husband, “I’ll leave that to you, Dr. Sails.”  She then focuses her attention back on Josh. “What do you see, Josh?”

“I…I see a man wearing funny makeup and clothes, Mom.”

“Look again, Josh.”

“I see a man…with…”

Evalyn interrupts him. “Okay stop.  You have the right answer.”

“But, all I said was I see a man,” her son replies.

“That’s all you’re supposed to see, Josh.  That’s the point.”

Natan blinks herself back into her reflection in the bathroom mirror.  Water droplets gently drip down her face.  This can’t be real.  She closes her eyes and sees another flash.

Natan finds herself in the darkness of night in a dimly lit parking lot in front of an empty warehouse.  She hears a shot ring out.   Natan sees herself as she lies motionless on the ground.  Josh rushes up to her, yelling for help, “Oh my God!  Somebody.” Natan’s eyes are half open.  She sees Josh kneeling over her…an immense light surrounds him.  Josh leans in to the wounded Natan. “It’s going to be all right.  You’re going to be all right, Agent Natan.”  Natan watches herself as she struggles to reach out her hand to Josh.

Josh whispers, “You’re gonna be okay…I promise.”  Natan’s hand starts to become limp.  Josh picks it up and puts her hand in his.  “You can trust me.  Stay with me, Agent Natan.”

Inside the confines of her bathroom, Natan is jerked back to reality by a ringing

phone.  Startled, she looks at herself in the mirror for one final moment. The phone rings again as Natan rushes from the bathroom into her living room to answer it.  “Hello.”

Alice is on the other end of the line, sitting at her desk in her office at the N.S.A.

“Kate.”

“Alice.  Did you find anything?”

“I did.  I sent you a fax over an hour ago.  Didn’t you receive it?”

Natan looks over in the direction of her office area on the other side of the room.  “Let me check.”  With phone in hand, Natan makes her way to the fax machine.  Natan sees that the pages were received. “Yeah…I got ‘em.”  She picks up the pages and begins flipping through them.

Alice continues, “It’s definitely interesting reading.  It’s no wonder the N.S.A. opened a case on this guy.”

“What’d you mean?” Natan replies.

“It’s all in the report…hey, how are you feeling?”

Natan is half-listening. “I’m better.”

“Listen, Kate, I don’t want to bog you down…with everything else you’ve got on your plate right now…but just know that we need to have a serious discussion soon, okay?”  Natan is engrossed in the pages, offering no reply.  Alice continues, “Kate, did you hear me?”

“Yeah, Alice, sorry.  We’ll talk soon.  I need to review this.  Thanks again for helping me on this.”

“You know I can help you with more if you let me in.  Promise me you’ll make time with me a priority soon, Kate.”

“Alice, I appreciate the offer of help.  You know I tell you when I need something.”

“And…” Alice wants a commitment.

“And, I promise I’ll make time soon.”

“Take care of yourself, Kate.”

“I will.  Thanks again.  Night, Alice.”

“Good night.” Alice hangs up the phone, cupping her hands together under her chin.  This can’t wait any longer.

Chapter Thirty-two

Josh waits in his parked car in the familiar meeting place, the parking garage.

His hands grip the steering wheel tightly.  The passenger door opens and he jerks with surprise.  With bag in hand, Natan slides into the passenger seat. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” she apologizes.

“It’s okay.  I didn’t think you would show,” he confides.

“I told you I would and I do what I say, Professor.”

Josh continues, “Listen…I just want to say I’m sorry, I know that you had nothing to do with the disappearance of my bag…”

Natan puts up her hands. “I appreciate that, Professor…but before we discuss anything further, I have to ask you something and I need you to be completely honest with me.”  Natan reaches into her bag and hands Josh some papers.

The top page reads “Complete Security Check for Josh Sails.”

“I would have thought you would have checked me out after day one,” he replies.

“Yeah, well…at least I know why the N.S.A. is investigating you for smuggling now.”

Josh holds his left thumb in his left four fingers out of sight from Natan.  “I’ve never smuggled anything, Agent Natan…at least not with intention, anyway.”

Natan probes, “You didn’t buy a rare New Guinean artifact on the black market…one that was stolen from a London museum with the largest African collection, and then try to bring it back into the States?”

Josh shifts uncomfortably. “It was a pottery shard and I bought it from a friend.  I didn’t know about the museum burglary at the time.”  Natan shakes her head.  Josh continues, “It was almost fifteen years ago…I was still in undergrad.”

“I just want to know why you did it, Professor, before I continue on with this…biblical Easter egg hunt. Before I jeopardize my position at the N.S.A. completely, I need the truth.”

“I understand.”  He takes a deep breath and continues. “It…it was supposed to be a gift for my mother.  My mom was an anthropologist.  My dad is a doctor, retired now. While she has an affinity for artifacts, he loves puzzles and numbers.  I guess if you look at the parental equation, it makes sense that I’m their son.”

“Are we talking about your brief history of crime here or about your life story?”

“I’m getting there.  You want the truth…then you need to know everything about this.”  Natan nods.  Josh continues, “Anyway, my mom had just had a stroke and nothing seemed to be helping.  I felt lost.  I wanted to see her passion, her joy return.  Before the stroke, my mother was a remarkable woman…a woman of value and depth.  Her spirit could stun a room quiet.  And then…after it happened…it was a time when I never saw her more hollow in her life.  I felt that I needed to fix it…to fix her.”

Josh’s memory leads him to central London where he stands with a friend across the street from the Big Ben clock.  The friend holds a box that he hands to Josh.  Josh continues his story for Natan. “A friend of mine in London said he had come across an artifact that was for sale.  I flew there, leaving my mother for three days so that I could check it out and make the purchase.  If it was what he said it was…it was going to be the cure.”

Josh opens the box from his friend, pulling out an African pottery shard.  He

smiles.  He confides to Natan, “My mother loved most artifacts, but she had a special

affinity for African ones.”  Josh remembers putting the artifact back in the box, reaching into his pocket for a check, and handing his friend the payment.

He continues, “I bought it without realizing what happened.  I made a mistake.”  Natan listens intently, drifting for a moment to her memory of Josh’s mother with a younger Josh at the dinner table.  Josh continues his story, “As you know, they confiscated it as soon as I returned to Boston and my mother never received it.  She knew nothing of the ordeal and still doesn’t.  My dad and I kept it from her.  I was charged with one count of purchasing stolen property and one count of smuggling.  I plea bargained out.  My sentence was that I had to spend a year in Mexico teaching math to underprivileged kids.  And I only got that because through his medical practice, my dad knew a young political star on the rise with strong connections in D.C.”

Natan interrupts, “Congressman Bradshaw…”

“Yeah.  Kent used some of his connections and they made it possible for me to list the entire thing as “volunteer service” so that it wouldn’t affect my career.”

“This Bradshaw fellow sure lays it on the line for you, doesn’t he?” Natan affirms.

“He’s a good guy…and I feel just terrible about his current situation.  That’s why I asked you for help,” Josh replies.

“Whatever happened with your mother, Professor?”

Josh tears up. “She came back on her own…I shouldn’t have doubted her.”  He composes himself. “Well, Agent Natan, you now know about the two dishonest things I’ve done in my life.”

“Two?” she asks.

“Trespassing in Mexico was the second,” he concedes.

Natan looks at Josh, realizing that she has the truth she wants. “Right.  Any other secrets I should know about before we plunge further?”

“Yeah…you could have just asked me, Agent Natan.  I would have told you.”

“Why didn’t you offer me this information in the beginning?” she asks.

“What about you?” he offers.

“What about me?” she replies.

Josh probes, “And you shared all of the skeletons in your closet in the short time we’ve known one another?  What about your secrets?”

“I see your point.  Trust is a funny thing, isn’t it?” Natan replies.

“It sure is.”  Josh flashes back to sitting at his computer, pages of binary code

information strewn around him.  She can’t know. The words echo in his mind.

Inside the car Josh hands the pages back to Natan.  She takes them.  “You can

keep these.  Now, can you please tell me what’s going on with this situation with Dr. Berk?  Why, even after finding the Boston matrix information, did you feel the need to explore this?” he says.

“It’s complicated,” Natan replies.  Josh waits for an answer.  Natan continues, “I’m grappling with all that is going on here, Professor. I already told you…I did some research online and found some information about his work.  I went to see him to learn more.

“And?” he asks.

Natan replies, “And…he told me about finding a similar code in the two classics I mentioned and that the Bible Code was basically a joke.”

“I’m not laughing,” Josh replies.

“I wasn’t either.  But if the Code is real, then why hasn’t he found my information in there?  If I’m so damn important, why hasn’t anyone else found this information?”  Natan jokes, “Does the Bible Code hide information at will or what?”

“Of course not…that’s impossible,” he says.

“Well…apparently, so is the Code itself,” she counters.

“Agent Natan, the problem is that Dr. Berk and most others who review the Code don’t know what to look for.”

“What do you mean?” Natan asks.

“It’s like September eleventh.  Several researchers found matrices with information about September 11, 2001…after it happened.  People type in words for events that have already occurred and then they find matrices linking words that describe the event and they make a connection.”  Josh watches Natan’s unchanging expression.  He continues, “For example, with Hitler…in the early 1900s who would know enough about Hitler to investigate him in the Code?  The people then wouldn’t have been able to recognize the information.  Though, if they could have known about it, they may have been able to prevent World War II.  It’s ironic, actually.”

Natan replies, “…because we can’t know the future until it actually happens.”

“Bingo,” he says. “And, by then, it’s moot, isn’t it?  This is actually a good thing for us, but not for predicting the future.  That’s why I hoped the symbols would help guide us where the Bible Code couldn’t.”

“So, you’re saying Dr. Berk, a man whose colleagues believe ‘should have won a Nobel Prize, if Nobel Prizes were given for math,’ missed any information about me just because?” she questions.

“Why wouldn’t he?  He had no reason to search for you in the Code,” Josh says. “Even I found your information by accident…or through the grace of God…depending on how you look at it.”  Josh pauses. “Agent Natan.”

“Yeah?” She looks at him.

Josh probes further. “Did he seem interested in your inquest?”

“When I told him that the N.S.A. was reviewing the Bible Code, he seemed amused more than anything,” she replies.

“You don’t think you’ve intrigued his curiosity now?” Josh wonders aloud.

“Honestly, no,” she says. “He told me to tell the N.S.A. that it would be easier to prove the existence of Santa Claus than it would be to prove the Bible Code.”

“Well, good.  Now we can try to regain our focus…” Josh’s voice trails off as Natan hears a heartbeat again.  Wincing, she rubs her forehead with her hand, then sees a flash.

In her mind, Natan remembers her walk up to Dr. Berk’s building.  “Who can you

trust, Agent Natan?” A voice echoes from a building as she approaches.  Natan looks up toward the roof of a building across the way.  She sees a man with binoculars watching her.

Inside the car a concerned Josh shakes Natan. “Agent Natan.”  No reply.  “Agent

Natan!”  Josh shakes her again.

Natan snaps back to reality.  “What?”

“Are you okay?” he almost demands.

“I’m fine,” she replies weakly.

“You had me concerned there for a moment.  What just happened?” he asks.

Natan tries to joke it away as nothing. “I’ve just been having headaches the last few days accompanied with acid flashbacks from drugs I never used.”

“What?” he asks.

“I keep seeing flashes of light,” she replies.

“How many days has this been going on, Agent Natan?”

“Four or five,” she replies.

“Have you been experiencing any other symptoms?” he asks.

Natan hesitates. “Like what?”

“I don’t know…fainting…blacking out?” His voice trails off.

Natan replies, “I haven’t really blacked out as much as I’ve been having hallucinations.”

“What?!”  Josh sits dumbfounded.  “What do you mean…what kind of hallucinations?”

“It doesn’t matter, Professor.”

“It matters to me.  Tell me…please.  You can trust me, Agent Natan.”

Josh’s words echo in Natan’s head.  You can trust me, Agent Natan.

She continues, “I get a headache and then I see a flash…and then…”

“And then?” he probes.

“I see images, Professor.”

“Images…of what, Agent Natan?”

“I know it sounds crazy…” she hears the word crazy in her mind and pauses a moment for reflection.

Josh interrupts her by reaching out his hand to touch her arm.  “I believe you,” he says tenderly.

Natan shifts uncomfortably.  Josh pulls back his hand and continues, “This may have something to do with the Code.  Were you going to tell me about this?”

“It’s not like I even know what’s happening to me…” Natan admits.

“Agent Natan, have you noticed anything else physically?  Anything that may have a connection to the Code…”

Natan jokes, “Well, I ran into my coffee table a few weeks back.  You think that could have an affect on the world’s religious populations when kneeling for prayer or something?”  Josh sits in silence.  Natan continues, “Look.  So many things are happening lately…I don’t even know what’s what, let alone the fact that we’ve been experiencing technical difficulties…the fact that I’ve been remanded to desk duty at work…and the fact that I’m under surveillance at my house.”

Josh sits in shock as he watches her confession.  She continues, “There.  I think that gets us up to date.  You still feel deprived of information?”

“I’m bemused,” he replies. “Though, it’s apparent to me that you’re experiencing something here.”

“You think?” she retorts.

“I really think you should see someone about this, Agent Natan.”

“I don’t need a doctor, Professor.”

“I was thinking of a different type of professional,” he counters.

“I already have a therapist,” she replies.

“That isn’t what I meant,” he says. “Let me worry about it…I’ll look into it.  Now, tell me more about these images.  What do you see?”

She tries to describe them. “They’re like fractions of pictures…like, glimpses.”

“Glimpses of what?” he asks.

“I…I don’t really know what, Professor.”

“What have you seen, Agent Natan?”

Natan leans in, becoming serious. Can I trust him?  He’s going to find out sooner or later.  No sense in walking away empty handed.  Perhaps a game of barter will do. “I’ll tell you if you explain one thing to me.”

“What?” he asks.

Natan replies coyly, “Why isn’t there a Nobel Prize for math?”

“Ah…you’re kidding me, right?  This is a joke?” he asks.

“No…I’m serious,” she replies. “I need to know.  They have Nobel Prizes for everything but math?  Why?”

Josh is astounded. “You need this information right now…at this particular moment?”

“Absolutely, Professor.  You’re a math man…tell me.”

He simply says, “No.”

“No?  You don’t know?” Natan reels him in.

“Oh, I know.  You tell me about the images first and then I’ll tell you about the non-existent Nobel Prize for math,” he counters.

“You want me to trust you, Professor?”

“Can you, Agent Natan?”

“Actually, I do trust you, Professor…more than anyone in my life at the moment.” Josh softens.  Natan changes the subject, “One of the images was about you, Professor.”

“About me?” he asks, “I see where this is going…you were projecting in our argument at the University…”

Natan interrupts him. “Professor…do you want to know or what?”  Josh listens.

She continues, “It was strange actually, probably a projection of the childhood I wanted.  You and your mother and father were sitting around the dinner table looking at  Geographic Planet magazines.

Josh’s face hardens and he is silent.  Natan see his expression change. “Professor?” she says.

“How old was I?” he asks.

“Ten or so,” she replies.  Natan and Josh sit looking at one another.  “It’s just a fantasy,” Natan minimizes.  Josh shakes his head no.  Unable to face what this means, Natan tries to change the subject. “Okay…your turn…”

“You know, Agent Natan, there are definitely other powers at work here.”

“You think so?” she asks.

Josh knows.  “I do,” he replies with certainty.

“You’re stalling, Professor.”

“Fine.  Fine,” he gives in. “Legend has it that Alfred Nobel’s wife ran off with a Swedish mathematician.  So, to get even, Dr. Nobel shunned the mathematics community and has never issued a prize for math because of the scandal.”

“You’re kidding?” she stammers.

“Actually, the story’s a myth,” he says. “Truth be told, Alfred Nobel was never actually married.”

Natan nudges Josh. “You had me going there.”

Josh replies, “You know, most people actually believe that story, even scientists in the field.”

“What’s the real reason?” she asks.

“It’s interesting, actually,” he says. “Alfred Nobel simply said he never thought about it.”

Natan can’t believe the simplicity of it all. “So, the math field suffers because someone forgot to think of it?”

“For your information, Agent Natan, they do offer an award for math—it’s called the Field’s Medal.”

“Well, good to know.  Wouldn’t want restless mathematicians running around feeling slighted, would we?” Natan chides. “I’m thoroughly impressed with your knowledge of this subject, Professor Sails.”

“You should see me do axiomatic foundations of geometry,” he replies with a smile just for her.

“I bet that’s a crowd pleaser, huh?” she replies, sensing his attention.

“You have no idea, Agent Natan.”

Chapter Thirty-three

The van sits down the way from Natan’s house with the van man inside on his cell phone.  “She left an hour ago to get her dry cleaning,” he relays to his boss.

The male caller replies, “I’ve met with Dr. Berk.  I’ve found some interesting information regarding Agent Natan.  When you call in your status report, inform Baxter that I will be in his office within the hour.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Dr. Berk sits in his office at his immaculate desk in front of his computer.  The computer screen shows a matrix with Natan’s name.  He is intrigued.  What do we have here?

Inside Baxter’s office, the head of the N.S.A. sits waiting at his desk.  There is a

knock at the door.  “Come in,” he replies.  Baxter’s yes agent enters the office as the triumphant leader greets him. “Ah…Agent.  I supplied the Advisory Committee with the information you gathered on Agent Natan.  I hope you’ll be able to provide us additional information…”

Agent Knight stands in front of Baxter holding a folder with information about Agent Natan, tapping his index finger against the folder.  “I will, Sir.”

Part V

Faith

Chapter Thirty-four

1983

In a filthy warehouse office, Palko, a tough-looking fellow in his fifties, sits behind his cluttered desk, tapping his fingers to a phantom beat.  Jimmy, a younger version but cut from the same hardened background, hastily enters through the office door.

Palko’s patience is tested. “Where the hell’ve you been, Jimmy?”

An apologetic Jimmy replies, “I was out searching, Mr. Palko.”

“Did you find her?” Palko asks.

“Uh…not yet, Mr. Palko.”

“What am I payin’ ya for?” Palko asks, “This needed to be taken care of days ago.  I thought you said this wouldn’t take more than forty-eight hours.  It’s been nearly two weeks and now so much time has passed…I’m afraid that we may not be able to recover…”

“Mr. Palko, it’s taken longer than we thought, I admit it.  My man at the adoption agency hasn’t been able to access the records to track her down.  He’s still working on it…” Jimmy’s voice trails off.

“How hard is it to find a ten-year-old girl?  We’ve been watching her for all these years, Jimmy.  We can’t lose her now…not now.”

“We’ll find her, Mr. Palko.  I won’t give up.”

“It’s not about giving up, you idiot.  It’s about losing time.”  Palko shoves a young Natan’s photo across his desk.  “She’s missing…has blended into the world now.  She could be anywhere…we may never find her…and you’ll be the one responsible.”

“I’ve handled the situation up to this point, haven’t I?  We’ll find her, Mr. Palko.  I swear to you, no matter how long it takes, we will,” Jimmy promises.

1986

Outside of her middle school, a thirteen-year-old Natan holds her backpack and stands on a curb waiting for a ride.  Natan’s adoptive father pulls up in his Buick with the passenger window down.  “Hey there, kiddo.  You ready?”

“Hey, Dad.”  Natan opens the door and gets into the car, sliding her backpack between herself and her father as he drives away from the school.

“So how was your day, Katie?”

“It was school, Dad.  It’s the same every day.”

“Ah…come on.  You mean to tell me that you didn’t learn one new thing today?” he challenges.

Natan looks at William, who has an expression of interest.  She gives in. “The population of the United States is now over 240 million.”

William puts his free arm around her, pulling her closer as he keeps his eyes on the road. “See, now that’s a fact that I wouldn’t have known otherwise.”

Natan smiles and wiggles out of William’s grip.  “Glad I could lift your mood

with statistics on overpopulation.”   As they slow to a red light, Natan turns serious. “Dad, look, you should really let me take the bus with the other kids.  You have to get off early and it’s out of your way…”

William interrupts, “You know the drive home is time I wouldn’t get to spend with you otherwise.  And, since when is it okay for a thirteen-year-old girl to worry so much about such things?”

“Since I hear you talking about you needing more hours since the government cut your pay,” she says.

“You eavesdropping on my phone calls again, Katherine?” he asks.

The light turns green.  William is about to go, when Natan stops him by putting her arm in front of him.

William asks, “What are you doing, Katie?”

“Wait a sec, Dad,” she instructs.

“The light’s green, kiddo.  We can’t wait…green means go.”  William starts to put his foot on the gas when another car speeds through the intersection.  He quickly hits the brake.  A dazed William and Natan sit in the rocking car as it reverberates from the sudden stop.  The light turns red.

William continues, “How…how’d you know…?”

Natan shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know.”  The two sit in silence as they watch the light turn green.  Natan continues, “You can go now…I think it’s okay.”  William looks at Natan in awe as he maneuvers through the light.

Chapter Thirty-five

September 29, 2006

Natan sits inside Josh’s parked car in front of an anonymous house.  Natan has her hand over her eyes as Josh coaxes her, “Agent Natan.  Our appointment began five minutes ago.”

An unmoving Natan answers, “I’m really not comfortable with this, Professor.”

“We can’t just sit out here in front of this woman’s house.  It’s just not polite,” he replies.

Natan looks at Josh. “Tell me again why you made this appointment for me without my knowledge.”

Josh counters, “Listen, this woman is one of the best psychics in town, if not the

best.”

“Uh…yeah.  That word again…” she trails off.

“What word?  Psychic?” he asks.

“Yep, that’s it.  Notice how the word “psychic” and the word “psycho” are almost interchangeable?  It’s not a coincidence,” she says defiantly.

“Agent Natan.  Look…I’m asking you to make a leap of faith…”

Natan interrupts him. “It’s just one leap of faith after another with you, isn’t it?  You ever thought about becoming a pastor or a minister?”

“Look, Agent Natan.  Deciphering the symbols is taking longer than I expected.  The second one is even more complex and difficult than the first one…and I’m assuming the complexity will only increase progressively with each additional symbol.   The Bible Code isn’t offering up any new leads either at the moment and…”

Natan interrupts again, stalling. “I thought your expertise was in Mayan symbols.  Why are you having such difficulty with them?”

“The symbols I retrieved are unlike any that I’ve worked with before, Agent Natan,” he replies, stifling his annoyance.

She continues, “Maybe we should bring in some other experts or something.”

“You know that’s too risky of a proposition,” he says.

“Ah…but seeing a psychic…yeah, that’s the answer,” she chides.

“It is the most logical choice, Agent Natan.”

“Whose logic are we working with here, Professor…when nothing about any of this is logical?”

Josh touches her shoulder. “We need to figure out what to do next.”

Natan pulls away, replying, “I know what to do.”

“And what would that be?” he asks.

“We wait,” she says proudly.

“Agent Natan, waiting will be the death of us.  It’d be better to talk to an expert.”

“Great.  Let’s do that then,” she says.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.  It’s time to go, Agent Natan.”

“Oh, must we?” she whines.

Josh continues his encouragement. “There aren’t even any signs identifying her, so no one will have a remote idea as to why you’re here.  Come on.  We’re already late.”  Josh unbuckles his seat belt. “Doesn’t it look benign?”

“It’s what’s inside that I’m worried about,” she says.

Josh exits the car.  Natan reluctantly follows, opening her door slowly and easing her way out of the car.                “See, it’s not so difficult.  One foot in front of the other,” he encourages.  Josh rounds the car to meet Natan on her side.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this, Professor.  I’ll oblige for the moment, Mr. Numbers, but if I see a cauldron or an eye of newt, I’m outta here.”

“She’s a psychic, Agent Natan…not a witch.”  Natan and Josh approach the house.

“You know what I mean.”  Natan looks around suspiciously in her N.S.A. way as they make their way to the door. Josh is just about to ring the door bell when Natan spots him fidgeting and holding his right thumb inside of his right four fingers.  Natan stops him before he depresses the bell.  “What are you doing with your thumb?”

Josh holds his hand up. “What?  This?”

“What is that?” she asks.

“It’s faith,” he spouts matter-of-factly.

“Faith?”  Natan’s anxiety elevates even more.  What am I getting myself into here?

“We’re late, Agent Natan.  I’ll tell you later,” he tries to insist.

Natan stops him. “Oh, no…no.  I need to hear this, Professor.”

Josh squares off to face Natan.  Realizing that he will lose this battle, he gives in,

speaking quickly. “When I was a boy I used to get stressed quite easily.”

“That’s hard to image, Professor.”

“Do you want to hear the story or not?” he asks.

Natan lowers her head. “My apologies.  Please continue.”

His speech remains quick to eliminate more of a delay. “My mother tried everything to help calm me down and nothing worked.  Then one tense afternoon when I was so stressed because of a serious situation…”  He trails off as he eyes Natan’s expression.

“Are you going to finish, Professor?” she asks.

Josh continues, “My mother pulled me aside and told me to hold my thumb.  She said it symbolized faith…”

Natan interrupts, “Faith in what…that your thumb would still be there after terminating circulation to it?”

“Faith that everything would work out…that all would be okay,” he asserts.

“By holding your thumb?” she asks.              Josh nods yes.  Natan giggles despite her attempts to maintain a straight face. “Does holding your ear represent anything for you?” she jokes.  Josh rolls his eyes and starts to ring the bell.  She interrupts him, “And apparently this worked for you.”

“Absolutely.  Faith came…washing the calm I needed all over me.”  Josh eyes his watch, “Look, we’re getting later by the minute. I’m ringing the bell.”

Natan gives him a go-ahead nod and Josh rings the bell.  The two stand waiting.

“How old were you when your mom taught you this little trick?” she probes.

“Six or seven,” he replies.

“And you still do this, even though you’re how old?” she asks.

“I’m thirty-five.  If things work…why change them, right?”

“Wasn’t that the business theory of the early 1900s?” she teases.

Josh shakes his head. “You think it’s childish.”

Natan throws up her hands. “To each his own, Professor.”

Josh grabs Natan’s hand. “Try it, Agent Natan.”

She is startled by his touch again. “That’s okay, Professor.  I’m…I’m good actually.  I have all the faith I need.”

Josh replies, “You are a person more in need of faith than anyone I know.  Besides, you shouldn’t judge until you try it.”

“Fine.”  Natan reluctantly holds her right thumb inside of her four right fingers as she stands waiting.

Josh brims with anticipation. “Well?  Can you feel it, Agent Natan?”

“I feel something all right,” she retorts.

“You have absolutely no faith, do you, Agent Natan?”

“Professor, I don’t need faith to know that opposable thumbs are a blessing and when I play this little game of hide and seek with my thumb,” she flips her thumb in and out of her hand, “I feel as though I’ve taken a few steps down the evolutionary ladder.”

Josh shakes his head at Natan. “You know, my family and I aren’t the only ones

who believe holding your thumb is a good thing.”

“I’m sure young children and some animals all over the world benefit from it,” she replies.

Josh explains, “Actually, Scandinavians hold their thumbs for luck…just like Americans cross our fingers for luck.”

The two are interrupted as the door opens to a petite, kind, and welcoming-

looking psychic, Susan.  Josh leans into Natan, whispering, “We’ll talk about this later.”

Natan pats Josh on the back, replying in an unabashed voice, “There’s nothing to talk about, Professor.  Let’s look at the bright side…you could be sucking it instead of holding it.”

Josh ignores Natan, directing his attention to Susan and reaching to shake her hand. “Hello.  I apologize for us being a bit late.” Susan extends her hand, as she replies in a dainty voice, “It’s okay.  I knew when you would arrive.  I’m Susan.  Please, come in.”

Natan looks at Josh and rolls her eyes as they enter the residence.  You’ve got to

be kidding me.

Chapter Thirty-six

Susan’s home is furnished delicately and femininely.  Josh and Natan follow Susan into her living room area, a sea of pink, as she welcomes them. “I love working from my home,” she says, “It gives it a more relaxed feel.”  Susan motions to a couch and chairs. “Please have a seat,” she says. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you.  I’m okay,” Josh replies.

“If I said yes, would you be able to tell me what I want?” Natan chides.

Josh attempts to curb Natan’s jokes when Susan interrupts him, “That’s okay, Professor Sails.  She’d like water, is that correct?”

“Yeah…but that’s an evident one,” Natan banters.

“Please sit.  I’ll return momentarily,” Susan replies.

Josh pulls Natan over to a couch and the two sit down. “Do you have to be so rude?”

“It’s not rude to evaluate her abilities, Professor.  Where’d you find this woman, anyway?

Josh replies, “Amanda referred me.  One of her old girlfriends used her before.”

“That’s comforting,” Natan says, annoyed.

Susan enters the room holding a glass of water with ice as she directs her attention

to Natan. “I know you like ice, Katherine…”  Natan jumps to her feet and starts to interject as she glares at Josh, believing that he revealed her first name.  Susan continues, “And, I know you don’t like to be called Katherine…I just wanted to get your attention.  Professor Sails has told me nothing about you…except that you seek to find your own truth.”

“And, if he’s told you nothing about me, then how do you…” Natan can’t find the words to ask.

Susan hands Natan the water. “Please, Agent Natan, have a seat.  You are definitely suspicious, aren’t you?”

Josh agrees, “That she is.”

Natan shoots Josh a look of annoyed resolution.  “It comes with the job.”

Susan continues, “Your work with the N.S.A….”

Josh interrupts, directing his attention to Natan. “I swear I haven’t told her anything about you, Agent Natan, not your name, where you work, hobbies, nothing.”

An unsettled Natan sits.  Susan continues, “It’s true, Agent Natan.  I know it’s hard to believe, but my abilities are real.  I’m a clairvoyant…among other things.  And you, my dear, are a clair-sentient.”

“Clair-what?” Natan asks.

“Clair-sentient. It’s a person who senses…one who uses their intuition to gain insight,” Susan replies as she places her hand over the top of Natan’s head, without touching it.

Natan, moving her eyes only, looks up at her with part confusion, part fear, and asks, “What are you doing?”

Susan continues probing Natan’s head. “I’m reading your energy.  Please be still.”  Natan waits.  “Ah…and I see you’ve been experiencing visions.  Do you get headaches?” Susan asks.

Natan stumbles, “How did you…?  What?  How?”

Susan pulls her hand away and looks into Natan’s eyes. “Agent Natan.  I can

only help you if you allow me to.”

“This isn’t a particular comfort zone for me,” Natan confides.

“I understand.  How can I make you feel more comfortable?” Susan asks.

“Can I have the N.S.A. do a background check on you first?” Natan jokes.

Josh and Susan sit speechless.  Natan continues, “That was a joke.  I may be suspicious, but you’re a bit uptight yourself.”  The room lightens as Natan continues, “Tell me how you know what you know.”

Susan replies, “I just do.  We all have gifts…and this is mine.  Would you like to learn more about yours?”

“I don’t have a gift,” Natan says adamantly.

“You’re right…you don’t have just one gift,” Susan retorts. “You have many, many gifts and if you don’t start getting a handle on them now, they will come with even more side effects than just the headaches you’ve been experiencing every once in a while.”

“And…the headaches?” Natan asks.

“They will get worse before they get better,” Susan says. “Your body is adjusting.”

“Adjusting to what?” Natan asks.

“To your abilities.  You can help by not resisting so much.”  Susan sits down next to Natan in a nearby chair as Josh watches from the other side of the couch.  She points to Natan’s hand. “Can you turn your hand over for me?”  Natan flips her hand over, turning it palm up.  Susan places her hand a few inches above Natan’s, reassuring her, “I promise I’m not trying to read your palm, Agent Natan.  I’m attempting to connect with you.”

“I was just wondering if I should say ohm,” Natan quips.

Josh interjects, “Agent Natan…”

Susan puts her other hand up to Josh. “Professor Sails…it’s okay.  I’ll need you to remain silent or your energy will merge with Agent Natan’s and make it more difficult for me…”

Josh apologizes, “Okay, sorry.”  He sits back on the couch, quietly observing.

Susan continues, “Agent Natan…I’m going to tell you what energies I’m picking up from you.”

“Oh, do tell.” Natan raises her eyebrow.

“It’s okay…doubt is a natural thing,” Susan says. “Now let’s see where you lead me…”  Not touching Natan’s hand, Susan circles her hand above Natan’s hand and closes her eyes.  “You have powerful energy around you, from within and from external forces.  I’m feeling a very strong maternal energy around you.”

Natan tries to save Susan from embarrassment. “You should know that my real mother died during childbirth and my stepmother was killed in a car accident a year after I was adopted.”

Susan opens her eyes. “That doesn’t make sense.  I feel an exceptionally strong maternal energy surrounding you.  That doesn’t happen unless a parent remains connected to the child within our plane.”

Natan continues, “Well…I don’t know what to tell you, other than that this isn’t looking promising.”

“It must be an anomaly.  We’ll move on.”  Susan closes her eyes again, “Your spirit is transforming…evolving.”

“Anything more specific would be helpful,” Natan says impatiently.

“Patience…” Susan whispers.

Natan rolls her eyes and is about to interject when Susan asks, “Are you religious, Agent Natan?”

“No,” Natan says quickly.

“Spiritual?” Susan asks.

“No,” Natan replies again.

“I’m sensing a deity presence,” Susan says.

“What?” Natan asks.

Susan replies, “I feel that God is close to you.”  Natan doesn’t look convinced.  Susan says, “You’re not a believer.”  Natan shakes her head no.  Susan continues, “I find it so interesting that God surrounds you…emanating from every part of you…and yet you have no faith.”

“Faith seems to be the permeating theme today,” Natan says as she attempts to get up from the couch, touching Susan’s hand accidentally.  Susan shudders from the contact and her body lurches forward, knocking Natan back into her seat as coded Mayan symbols reflect in Susan’s eyes.

In her own mind, Natan finds herself hovering in the sky again.  She sees the looming white door against the blue backdrop of the horizon.  Natan stands directly in front of it and reaches out to touch the knob.  She grabs it and turns the knob.  A blinding light envelops her as she slowly enters.

Natan sits with Josh on the couch, as Susan speaks in a trance-like state. “You are

the one…the prevention…our last hope.  Katherine Elizabeth Natan, you are humanity’s last chance.”  Susan grips Natan’s hand, not letting go.  Natan’s eyes are glazed.

Josh tries to reach her. “Agent Natan.”  Josh jumps up off the couch to help free Natan from Susan’s grip but finds himself entangled between the two.

“Protect yourself,” Susan warns, grabbing Natan tighter.  “You must protect yourself.”  Natan’s eyes turn black, fading into her deepest memory.

Inside a home, a mother stands over a bassinet staring at a baby wrapped in a pink blanket.  She cries gently as she tries to touch the baby, but cannot.  She backs away.  Looking up, the mother begs, “Please forgive me, God…for having such a child.”

On the couch, Natan’s voice fills in the mother’s words, “I am but an instrument, strumming the strings of time.  Our innocence is tainted by existence.”  A confused Josh watches Natan as she sits on the couch, speaking the mother’s words.  Natan continues, almost as if she’s chanting, “We all succumb, as time ticks away pervasively.  Moment by moment.  A flicker.  A blink.”

Inside the home the mother stands holding and stroking a cross dangling from a necklace around her neck as she speaks.  Natan’s voice fills in her words, “In one breath a little more innocence fades.  You catch your breath…and try to hold on to the little that remains…and then you realize the impossibility of this task.”

The mother backs up toward the foot of a bed in the room.  Crying, she kneels down, still holding her cross. “Forgive me, Lord.  Please forgive me.”

A terrified Josh struggles between Natan and Susan, finally succeeding in disconnecting the two.  Once the physical connection is broken between Natan and Susan, they return to normal.  Josh tries to temper the fact that he is greatly disturbed by the unfolding events. “Are you okay?”

“What just happened?” Natan asks.

Susan pushes herself off of the couch. “I’ve never experienced anything like this.”  She attempts to tidy up her disheveled clothes.

Natan runs her fingers through her hair. “Things just get weirder and weirder.”

Josh leans in to Natan. “Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.”

Susan addresses both of them. “You’re lucky you both came.”

“Lucky?” Natan retorts.

Susan looks at Natan. “You’re in danger, Agent Natan.”  She tidies her hair.  “Use that knowledge to help yourself.”

Josh is clueless. “What are you guys talking about?”

Natan replies, “I saw it, Professor.  And now, we have to find the answers.”

“Saw what?  Answers to what?”

Susan addresses Natan. “You accomplished the first step.  You’ve begun the journey, now take the next step.  Follow your intuition, Agent Natan.  I’ll be here to help you if you need me.”

Josh, Natan, and Susan stand dazed and stare at one another.

Chapter Thirty-seven

2001

A church in central Baltimore is decked out in traditional Christmas holiday adornments, with red and green cloth streaming down pillars on either side and poinsettias lining every wall.  Ms. Malin, a devoted woman in her fifties, kneels on the first pew in front of the altar praying.  She raises her head and crosses herself in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, then stands and walks up to the altar.

Ms. Malin stands behind the altar looking out at the empty church as sun streams in through the stained glass windows.  She reaches behind the altar through a curtain and retrieves some items for the sacrament, gently placing a bowl with the body of Christ to her left as she places a chalice to her right.  Reaching down once again, she retrieves a sacrament cloth, gently folding it in two.  Ms. Malin can hear the door open in the front of the church.  Still holding the sacrament cloth, she looks up in the direction of the entrance, squinting through the sun as shadows dance around the church.  She cannot see the door from her vantage point.  She hears footsteps closing in, but is unable to see, so she comes from behind the altar with cloth in hand and spots a parishioner.

She acknowledges him, “Good morning, Sir.  Mass doesn’t begin until noon, though you’re welcome to pray if you like.”

The parishioner stands in front of the smiling Ms. Malin. “I’m so glad you look like you’re having a good day, because I’m not really here to pray, Ms. Malin.”

Ms. Malin’s smile fades into a look of shock as she backs up. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

The parishioner closes in. “No…but I know you,” he says, as he grabs her by the arm.  The cloth falls and hits the ground.

“What are you doing?  Let me go,” a frightened Ms. Malin pleads.

“I must have a word, please.” The parishioner pushes Ms. Malin toward a door behind the altar.

“Please…don’t…I’m a woman of God.  I have nothing you want,” she begs.

“You may have the one thing I desire most.”  The parishioner opens the door and pushes Ms. Malin inside the tiny cloaked room.  He looks around to make sure no one sees him and then he enters the room after her as he pushes her down onto a chair toward the back of the room.  He continues, “Make yourself comfortable, Ms. Malin.   I have just a few questions for you and I’ll be on my way.”

Ms. Malin cries, “Please…please don’t hurt me.”

The parishioner takes a wooden chair from the side of the room and sits it

backward in front of Ms. Malin.  He slowly takes a seat.  “Let’s start over, okay?  My name is James, Ms. Malin, but my friends call me Jimmy.”  Ms. Malin sobs. Jimmy continues, “I’m gonna have to ask you to stop that now so that we can get on to the important issue at hand.”

Ms. Malin quiets herself.  “Now…that’s better.  Call me Jimmy, Ms. Malin,” he instructs.  Through quiet tears, Ms. Malin trembles.  “I’ll repeat myself again…but I have only a finite amount of patience.  Call me Jimmy, Ms. Malin.”

Ms. Malin, with a look of terror on her face, struggles to say his name. “J…Jimmy.”

Jimmy slaps his knee. “That’s great.  I love clear communication, don’t you?”

“Wh…What do you want?” she asks in terror.

“Saying my name makes you brazen, doesn’t it?  I have that effect on all women.”

Ms. Malin looks down in disgust.  Jimmy grabs Ms. Malin by the face, leaning in an inch from her.  He licks his lips, darting his tongue out just slightly. “Don’t knock what you ain’t had.”  Jimmy pushes her back away from him.  “Now…I’m gonna ask you some questions and I want you to answer me directly.  As you can see, I’m not here to play games with you and my patience is running thinner by the moment…so…the quicker your answers, the sooner I’m out of your hair.  Understand?”

Ms. Malin trembles as she stares at the ground.  She is too frightened to utter a reply.  Jimmy raises her chin. “You understand?”  Ms. Malin nods yes.  He continues, “Today is a special day…one of celebratory nature.  Can you tell me what today is, Ms. Malin?”

Ms. Malin shakes her head no.  “Tell me the date, Ms. Malin.”

Her voice shaking, she answers, “Dec…December twenty-first.”

Jimmy stands and begins circling Ms. Malin. “Ah…December twenty-first.”

He stands behind her, gently stroking her hair. “And why is today significant?”

She begins to sob again, “I…I don’t know.”

Jimmy comes around and stands directly in front of Ms. Malin. “As I said earlier,

Ms. Malin…I will ask again, but you’re losing chances.  Now, what is the significance of today’s date?”

Ms. Malin shouts through her tears, “I said I don’t know!”

Jimmy mocks her, “Are you telling me that you don’t remember the day your daughter was born?”

Ms. Malin sobs openly as he continues, “What kind of a mother would forget her own daughter’s birthday?  Oh…yeah…a mother who abandoned her…isn’t that right?”

Ms. Malin shakes her head no as she cries.  “Let me put it another way…is today your daughter Katherine’s birthday?”  Ms. Malin sits with a glazed look on her face as tears stream down her face.

December 28, 1973

Inside a Baltimore hospital, a nurse sits behind a desk writing reports.  A younger Ms. Malin approaches, with baby Natan in her arms, wrapped in a pink blanket.

“May I help you, Miss?” the nurse asks.

Ms. Malin is visibly upset, holding back tears. “Nurse…I have to surrender my baby.”

“Surrender your baby?” the nurse asks in shock.

“I…I just can’t keep her.” Ms. Malin pushes baby Natan toward the nurse.

“But, Miss,” the nurse tries to protest.

Ms. Malin turns and walks away, leaving the nurse holding little Natan in her arms. “Miss, you can’t just leave your baby…”

Ms. Malin stops and turns, shocking the already frazzled nurse. “This child is from the devil himself.  My hands cannot touch it…ever again.”  Ms. Malin turns and quickly walks down the hall and out the exit doors at the end of the corridor.

The nurse stands holding baby Natan.

Back inside the church room, a captive Ms. Malin sits confined as tears pour down her face.  Jimmy pulls out a gun from the back of his pants, cocks it, and then runs it up her thigh, probing for his answer.

“Yes…today is her birthday,” she answers.

Jimmy lowers the gun. “Well, all right.  That makes her twenty-eight, now doesn’t it?  At least I know I have the right woman now.  I hate when I get the wrong one…you can imagine how embarrassing that could be.”

“What do you want?” Ms. Malin asks.

Jimmy leans in. “I’m the one asking the questions…remember?”  He licks the side of Ms. Malin’s face.  She slaps him in reflex.  Jimmy raises his gun again and points it at her.

“Go ahead…shoot me, James.  God is on my side…is he on yours?” she says coolly, no longer facing her fate in fear.

Jimmy, impressed, lowers the gun. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t ya?”  He rubs the gun against her arm. “I’m sure you have all that pent-up anger because you gave away your own child.  But I wonder who is more angry, you or Katherine.”  Ms. Malin looks away with contempt.  Jimmy continues, “You know where she is, Ms. Malin?”

Ms. Malin stares him down. “Are you completely without intellect?  I gave my daughter up.  I know nothing of her life…nothing of it.  And I don’t care to.  My life is lived for God and has been for the last twenty-eight years.  I don’t know how you even found me because I gave her up anonymously.”

“You’d be surprised what I know, Ms. Malin.  The people I work for are very powerful…their hands reach everyone and everything.  And my life is lived to find your daughter, Katherine…as it has been for the last eighteen years.  You were one of our last resources.”

“Why are you so interested in her?” she asks.

“Oh…you know the answer to that as well as I do, Ms. Malin.  Isn’t that why you gave her up?”

Ms. Malin looks down. “I…I gave her up to so that I could give my life to God.”

“Yeah…if that’s what lets you sleep at night,” Jimmy replies.

She lunges at Jimmy. “You son of a bitch.”

Jimmy knocks her back into the chair. “That ain’t very Christian of you, now is it, Ms. Malin?”

“Go to hell,” she answers.

Jimmy leans in again. “I’ll meet ya there.  Who do you think will get there first?”

Ms. Malin pulls away in disgust.  Jimmy continues, “I guess it’s safe to say that you really have let her go.  And you can rest assured that she’ll be in good hands real soon.”

“My daughter is dead to me,” Ms. Malin says coldly.

Jimmy starts to tuck his gun behind his back, “More than you know, Ms. Malin.”

Ms. Malin spits in Jimmy’s face.  Jimmy slowly wipes his face as he takes the gun back out, raising it quickly to hit her in the head with the gun butt.  Ms. Malin falls to the floor. Blood runs down her neck as she lies motionless, knocked out.

Jimmy chastises the fallen woman, “I won’t send her your love, since you have none for her.  Who can you trust, Ms. Malin, if you can’t even trust the love of a parent?” His voice reverberates in her unconscious.

As he tucks his gun behind his back a tattoo with red angels’ wings peeks from behind his sleeve.  Jimmy walks out, leaving Ms. Malin on the floor.

Chapter Thirty-eight

Inside her therapist’s office, Agent Natan sits fidgeting on the edge of her seat across from Christine, who calmly waits with notepad in hand.  Christine initiates the conversation. “It’s evident that you have things to discuss, since you arrived here without an appointment.”

Natan wrings her hands. “I’m sorry I came unannounced.  I’m…I’m just at a loss.”

“What’s happened, Natan?” she asks, concerned.

Natan hesitates. “The professor I’ve told you about…well…he took me to see a psychic.”

“A psychic?” Christine jots notes.

Natan continues, “Yes, a psychic.  First, let me ask…how do you feel about this sort of thing?”

“What sort of thing, psychics?” Christine replies.  Natan nods her head yes.  Christine continues, “Are we talking about 1-900-number psychics?”

“I’m talking about people with…real abilities,” Natan clarifies.

“Well, if it’s abilities you’re talking about, then I definitely find validity in certain aspects of it.  So why did the professor take you to a psychic?” Christine asks.

“To help me,” Natan replies.

“Help you learn your future, Agent Natan?”

“To help me…”  Natan struggles.

Christine leans in, gently patting Natan’s knee. “It’s okay.  You’re in a safe space here.”

“To help me understand what’s happening to me,” Natan reveals.

Christine flips through her notes. “Natan.  The last session we had, we discussed your intuition regarding the Boston incident.  I’m guessing that there is more here to catch me up on…am I right?”

“It would take more than fifty minutes,” Natan quips.

“Give me the quick version,” Christine requests.

“Well…” Natan shifts uncomfortably. “I’ve been having visions.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight…during the Boston incident you had feelings of intuition, you’ve also been having dreams lately, and now you’re having visions.  Is that right?” Christine asks.  Natan nods her head yes.  Christine continues, “I see.  Tell me a bit more about these visions.”

Natan replies, “They’re like…little snippets of movies in my head.  Some seem like memories, and some are unclear.”

Christine stops note-taking and looks up at Natan. “If you’re having visions or flashes of memories, it’s not an uncommon situation. It’s often brought on by some sort of stress or trauma.”

Natan swallows hard. “They’re not my memories that I’m seeing.”

“What?” Christine asks. “Whose memories are they?”

Natan replies, “The professor’s, I think.”

Christine leans back in her chair. “Well, this is sure an interesting turn of events.”

Natan leans back in her own chair. “I guess I should also mention that I am being investigated at the moment.”

An uneasy Christine asks, “Investigated for what and by whom?”

“Well, it seems the professor has a past issue with smuggled artifacts and my contact with him has evoked some sort of concern at the N.S.A.,” Natan confides.

“This sounds troubling,” Christine replies.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Natan says. “I’m being followed everywhere I go.  I had to duck out the back exit of the Essential Mart and cross the other shopping area to get here unseen.”  Natan runs her hand over her face. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this.”

Christine tries to support her. “I had no idea that you were dealing with so many things at once.  This must be incredibly difficult for you.”

Natan feels safe and continues, “Everything that’s been happening lately…it’s all surreal.  It’s like I’m watching myself from the outside and nothing makes any sense.”

Christine says, “I understand now how difficult it’s been for you to get here and why you needed to see me.  I suggest that you begin journaling your feelings and experiences in between our sessions to help you gain some stability and clarity for yourself.”

“You want me to write down what I’m thinking and experiencing?” Natan shifts uncomfortably.

“I think it would be good for you,” Christine encourages.  Natan fidgets, looking more tense. Christine sees her discomfort. “Is that a problem?” she asks.

Natan replies, “I’m just…worried about having written documentation around about all…,” Natan motions to Christine’s notepad with her hands. “Well…all of this getting out.”

“I understand,” Christine says. “Perhaps you can write things down, re-read them, and then shred them once you’re finished.  This will give you a chance to revisit your thoughts, feelings, and experiences, but eliminate concern for your privacy.”

“I think I can do that.”  Natan eyes her watch, “I have to leave in a moment…I’m on desk duty at work and they’re watching me like a hawk.”

“I’m guessing you’ll want to wait to schedule something for next time?” Christine says.

“I haven’t the vaguest idea when I’ll be back.”  Natan gets up. “Let’s just say I’ll be in touch.”  Natan heads for the door.

“Natan.” Christine stops her. Natan turns back to Christine, who promises, “I will do everything in my power to keep your information safe.”  Christine rips several pages out of the notepad, holding the pages up to Natan. “I’ll shred all of these…”  Christine and Natan lock eyes.

“Thank you, Christine,” Natan replies.

“Take care of yourself, Agent Natan.”  Natan exits, leaving Christine looking at the pages in her hand.

Outside Christine’s office, Amanda paces as she waits around a corner.  She spots Natan leaving the building and casually begins walking toward the same vicinity. Amanda pretends to window shop.  Natan spots her.  Amanda wears a t-shirt with people hanging off of a globe of the earth as they hang on for their lives.  The shirt reads, “Running out of room?  Then help stop overpopulation.”

“Ms. Clark?” Natan says, shocked to see her.

“Agent Natan.  Please…call me Amanda.  I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you.  What a coincidence that you’re doing some lunchtime shopping also.”

Natan looks around suspiciously. “Yeah, it is.  What can I do for you?”

Amanda replies, “I saw a man snooping around Josh’s office again a few days ago.”

“The man…was he the same man who was at the university that day I interviewed you?  Did he look like he was a cop or worked for the government?” Natan asks.

“No way he was a cop,” Amanda replies. “It was a totally different guy.  He had a bunch of tattoos and was almost goth-looking.”

“Did you notice anything else?” Natan asks.

“Nope…that was pretty freaky all by itself,” Amanda says.

Natan looks at Amanda again curiously. “Well, thanks for letting me know.  I’ll see what I can find out.”

Amanda replies, “I hope you can find out something soon because the professor’s been kinda edgy lately.”

“What do you mean?” Natan asks.

Amanda fidgets. “He just seems like he has a lot on his mind.”  She looks around nervously. “Well, anyway, it was good running into you…it saved me a call.”

“Yeah,” Natan replies, “I’ll get back in touch if I find anything.”

“Thanks.  Have a great remainder of your day.”  Amanda walks off, waving goodbye as she leaves.

“You too.” Natan’s reply is a little delayed as she ponders this chance encounter.

Chapter Thirty-nine

Inside the N.S.A. building Natan gets off the elevator on Alice’s floor.  She sees workmen moving furniture out of Alice’s office and rushes over to it.  Natan stands in the doorway watching Alice’s expressionless face as she sits in a chair that used to be behind her now-missing desk.  The room is nearly empty.

Alice is deep in thought, remembering her last encounter with Agent Knight.  Knight sits working on his computer in the general office area as Alice approaches.

“Agent Knight.” Alice’s voice resonates aggression.

“Alice.  Agent Natan’s not here right now,” he says, beaming.

“I’m looking for you, Agent Knight,” she replies.

Knight smiles at her warmly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Get that smug smile off your face.”  Knight’s smile fades.  Alice continues, “I know that you’ve been working to bring Natan down.”

Knight gets up from his desk and squares off with Alice, hovering a good foot and a half above her. “What’re you talking about?”

Unwavering, Alice replies, “Save it.  I know and I’m bringing all of this to light.”

Alice starts to leave.

Knight grabs her hard. “I wouldn’t do that…sticking your nose where you don’t belong can be a hazardous thing, Alice.”

Alice shakes off his grip. “You can do what you like…but this is over, Knight.”

Knight pushes Alice against a file cabinet. “Who do you think authorized this whole thing?  It’s not just me you’re screwing with…you sure you want to mess with the head of the N.S.A.?”

Alice pushes Knight’s large frame back. “You’re lucky I don’t carry a weapon anymore.”

“Think about it,” Knight threatens, “You wouldn’t want Agent Natan to have an accident on the job, now would you?  Working for the N.S.A. can be a hazardous thing.  We’ve lost two agents already this year.”

Alice heads for the door. “Go to hell!”

“Baxter will never let it happen, Alice.  Think about it.”

Natan stands in the doorway of Alice’s office, watching her friend sit as she sits alone in the vacant space.  She knocks on the door jam as she stands in the doorway.  “Something you want to tell me, Alice?” Natan asks.

Alice looks up. “Oh, you startled me.”

“Everything all right?” Natan says.

“Yeah…sure,” Alice replies, “They’re moving me to another floor.”

“Since when?” Natan asks.

“Since today.”  Alice gets up.

“Why?” Natan probes further.

Alice replies, “Well, they’ve needed extra space up here for a while now and they figured it would be a good time to do it since I’ll be gone for a few weeks.”

“Gone?” Natan says. “Where’re you going?”

Alice cloaks her true feelings, holding it together perfectly. “I’m finally getting that vacation I’ve wanted.”  She smiles at Natan.

Natan is shocked. “What?  Alice, you’ve been wanting a vacation for the last five years…and yet, you never took one.  Why now?”

“It’s now or never, right?”  Alice turns to sit back down.  Natan gently reaches out to her.

“Something isn’t right here,” Natan says suspiciously. “You’ve been trying to talk to me for a while now.  Does this have anything to do with what you needed to tell me?”

Inside Baxter’s hidden office chamber, Knight and Baxter stand over a monitor observing Alice’s office.

Natan waits for an answer in Alice’s old office.  There isn’t one.  She tries again, “Alice…talk to me,” she says.

Alice looks up to the ceiling at a pin-sized hole in the corner. “Oh, Agent Natan, don’t be silly.  Everything is fine, really.  You should be happy for me.  Like you said, I haven’t had a vacation in forever.”  Alice’s smile widens.

“Uh.”  Natan runs her fingers through her hair. “Okay, then.  I’m happy for you.  What do you have planned?”

Alice replies, “Mexico sounded good…can’t beat beaches and margaritas, right?”

“That’s for sure,” Natan says, dumbfounded, as she tries to get her bearings.

Alice gets up again.  “I’m leaving first thing tomorrow.  I’ll need you to water my plants for me at home while I’m gone.  Do you think you’ll be able to do that?”

“Of course,” Natan says.

Alice looks into Natan’s eyes. “I won’t have time to deal with them before I leave, but they don’t need much attention, just the ivy in the living room…that poor plant barely holds on unless I pamper it to pieces.”

Natan replies, “Sure.  No problem.”

“You still have the code to get in, right?” Alice asks.

I have more codes than you know, Alice.  “Yeah…I’ll take care of it.  How long will you be gone?” Natan asks.

Alice whisks about the office. “Three or four weeks, maybe.”

“Wow.  That’s a long time,” Natan answers. “This isn’t a prelude to your retirement, is it?”

“You never know.”  Alice looks away. “Sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got to get downstairs or who knows where my desk will end up.”  Alice rushes past Natan, leaving the office.

A stunned Natan stands alone. “Oh…okay.”  The hair on the back of her neck stands up.

Baxter stands with Knight in his office chamber, both watching the monitor of Natan standing in Alice’s empty office.

“I think I headed that off well, Sir,” Knight says.

“You delayed her, Agent Knight.  Our problem isn’t over…it’s only stalled.  So now we’ll have to find a more permanent solution to it, won’t we?” Baxter replies as he turns off the monitor.

“But, Sir, I thought our goal was only to intimidate her,” Knight clarifies.

“Buck up, Agent Knight…we’re past that now,” Baxter retorts. “I’ll find a way to take care of her myself.  Just keep tabs and inform me of any new developments.”

Knight hesitates, but answers “Yes, Sir.”

Inside Alice’s house Natan stands in the living room, holding a watering can over a thirsty ficus.  Natan eyes the ivy plant in the corner.  She walks over to it.  Natan talks to the plant. “I’m not a plant expert, but since when is ivy a needy plant?  Don’t you guys grow like a weed?”  Natan pours water into the center of the plant.  As it pools, she notices a tiny reflection in the water…something shiny barely sticking out of the soil.  What the hell?

Natan puts the watering can down and reaches down to examine the object.  She digs down in the dirt with her fingers, retrieving a small gold key.  I knew there was something else going on here.

Natan holds the key firmly, wondering exactly where it will lead her.

Part VI

Guise

Chapter Forty

October 31, 2006

Inside Natan’s bedroom she sleeps in her bed; her eyes move because she is in R.E.M.

In her dream Natan finds herself in the N.S.A. building.  She gets off the elevator and sees Alice at the far end of the hallway.  Natan calls out to her, “Alice.  Hey.”  Alice opens the door to the stairwell.  Natan walks quickly after her. “Alice.  Wait a sec,” she yells.  Alice disappears through the door.  Midway down the hallway Natan breaks into a jog, chasing after her. “Alice!”

Natan gets to the door and tries to open it, but it’s locked.  She uses all of her strength but cannot force the door.  Natan touches the outside of her pants pocket, then reaches into her pocket and pulls out the gold key, trying to use it in the lock, but it’s too small.  She puts the key back and tries the lock again.  It’s no good.  Natan then pulls out her gun, shooting the lock as she fires two shots.  Natan tries to open the door again and it remains stuck.  What the hell?

The elevator dings on the other end of the hallway.  Natan holsters her gun, looking up.  Alice stands in the middle of the elevator.  “Alice!” Natan shouts.  No answer.  Natan sprints toward the elevator. The elevator doors begin to close.  Natan arrives just in time to squeeze her hand in between the doors.  The elevator doors open.  There is a flash of light.

Natan stands in the middle of a barren desert landscape with the scalding sun blaring down on her.  She squints in the sun as she looks around. “Alice?  What’s going on?  Where am I?”  Natan wipes her forehead with the back of her hand.  Feeling something wet, she touches her forehead with her hands.  Natan looks down at her hands.  They’re covered in blood.  She jerks back, spinning around as she scans the horizon.  Oh my God.

Alice appears in the distance, her hands and feet bound, and she has duct tape across her mouth.  A Bible is strapped to her chest.  Natan reaches out to her. “Alice!”

In her dimly lit room Natan is startled awake from her dream and sits up in bed, drenched with perspiration.  Her eyes wide open, she exclaims, “Alice!”  Natan realizes that she was having a dream.  She runs her fingers through her hair and then rubs her forehead.  Her head feels wet.  Natan touches it again and then looks down at her hands.  She turns on the light to see more clearly.  Her hands have blood on them.  She throws the bedding off and jumps out of bed.  Oh my God…

Her bedding has blood spotted here and there.  What the…?  Natan touches her nose and realizes she has a nosebleed.  She grabs tissues from a box on her nightstand and dabs them under her nose.

Susan’s words echo in her head, “You can help by not resisting so much.”

I can’t resist in my sleep, can I?  Natan holds her head up as she plops back onto her bed.  She sits looking up toward the ceiling, holding wads of tissues up to her nose.  What am I supposed to do here?

Chapter Forty-one

As the early morning sun peeks gently from the horizon, greeting her, Natan sits in her car outside of Susan’s house.  She taps the steering wheel.  You’ve got to do it.  She opens the door and gets out of the car.  Natan walks up to the house.

Natan stands at the door, hesitating.  She finally rings the bell.  Who would’ve thought?  No answer.  Natan rings the bell again.

A moment later a disheveled and surprised Susan answers the door in her robe,

adjusting it as she greets Natan. “Agent Natan.  I thought you were the paperboy.”              Natan looks down at her watch, “Is it that early?”

“Is everything okay?” Susan replies.

“My friend needs my help and I’m struggling,” Natan says.

Susan waves her in. “Come in…let’s not linger in the doorway.”  Natan follows Susan into the house as she leads Natan into the kitchen.  Susan asks, “Would you like some coffee?  I know I would.”

Natan nods her head yes.

Natan employs her early morning wit, “I would have thought you would know that I was coming.”

Susan attends to the coffee maker, bantering back, “If I was awake, maybe.”

Natan shifts uncomfortably. “Sorry to show up so early.”

Susan reaches into the cabinet and retrieves two cups. “Well, it must be important.”  She pours coffee for herself and Natan and hands Natan a cup.

“It is,” Natan says seriously.

Susan motions to a stool next to them. “Please, have a seat.”

“Thanks.” Natan sits.

“So, lay it on me.” Susan takes a sip of her coffee.

Natan delves in. “A friend who works with me is in trouble.”

“I’m sensing that this is a woman,” Susan replies.

“Yes,” Natan says. “I’ve known her most of my life.  She said she was taking a vacation, but I know something’s wrong…”

“Let your intuition guide you, Agent Natan.”

Natan’s frustration shows. “I’m trying…but everything is all jumbled up.  I’m seeing so many different things that I don’t know what’s what.  And I even woke up with a nosebleed this morning.”  She runs her fingers through her hair. “If I have such a great gift, why can’t I see what’s coming and know what to do?”

Susan tries to reassure her. “Ah…beginner’s overload.  You need to learn to give in to it.”

“What do you mean?” Natan asks.

Susan continues, “When people first start to experience their gifts, they feel overwhelmed…they fight it…resist until they create some physical manifestation, either a headache, a nosebleed, or some other “acting out” instead of “giving in.”

“I don’t know how to give in,” Natan confides.

Susan raises her eyebrow. “I’m sure you don’t, Agent Natan.  Your spirit is powerful…but I’m not telling you to give in the way you’re imagining.”

“I don’t understand,” Natan counters.

“You have to let go and let God, as they say, Agent Natan.”

Natan takes a sip of her coffee, brimming with confusion.

Susan continues, “You have to make peace with yourself, Agent Natan.  You need to tell yourself that what you’re experiencing is okay.  Right now you don’t believe that.  You keep fighting it instead of listening to what needs to be heard.”

Natan softens. “I’m trying to listen…I’m trying to believe.”

“It’s not about trying,” Susan says. “It’s about knowing, Agent Natan.  I’m quite sure that there have been times in your life when you gave in to a feeling or experience…when you allowed it to lead you and you trusted it.”

“Maybe,” Natan struggles.

“Take your career choice, for example,” Susan says. “You picked a field where you get to use your instincts.  Deep down you know what you need to do.  You’ve done it in the past out of necessity…now you just have to hone it so that you can use it when you choose to.  Once you can do that…you will understand complete awareness.”

“It sounds easier said than done, Susan.”

“Agent Natan, find your answers within yourself. Look at your own issues, your own mistakes.  Once the shell cracks you’ll be able to peer inside…the more you look, the more you’ll find.”

Natan looks at Susan with thanks as she attempts to cope with her feelings. “You’re like my own personal Buddha.”

Susan recognizes Natan’s difficulty with facing her true feelings. “You’re welcome, Agent Natan.  Just believe in yourself.  I know you can do it.”

Natan’s eyes well up with tears.

Susan continues, “I would hug you, but I’m afraid that I’m not prepared for what would happen psychically should we touch again.”

Natan laughs. “Thank you, Susan.  I’ve misjudged you and I’m sorry.”

Susan waves her away. “Oh, you should have seen me when I was first coming to terms with my own gifts.  I didn’t just burn some bridges…I set the whole town on fire.  We all go through it, Agent Natan.”

“I think I know what to do.  I better go.”  Natan puts her cup down and walks out of the kitchen, toward the front door.

“Follow it,” Susan directs. “But please remember your importance, Agent Natan.”

Natan opens the door. “I’ll try.”

“You’ve got to do better than try, for the sake of all of us, Agent Natan.”

Natan nods her head yes as she leaves.  The door closes behind her.

Susan watches Natan out her window.  You have no idea how special you are, Agent Natan…no idea at all.

Chapter Forty-two

The midday suns shines through the window on Natan as she stands in Alice’s living room, holding the gold key.  The light reflects off of the key, causing a brilliantly colored rainbow to fan around her.  Natan looks at the key.  Where do you belong?

Natan searches Alice’s plant-infested house.  This is like feng shui meets the

Amazon.  She looks behind books, putting them back as she looks.  Natan searches cabinets, touching and moving through different items, and then returning them to where they were when she started.  She raids Alice’s clothes drawers, puts the clothing items back, and then closes the drawers neatly behind her.  Natan rifles through papers on Alice’s desk, then straightens them again when she’s through.  She notices a pen-holder full of pens, which she flips through, her fingers skipping over a small white-wax pencil.  A frazzled Natan stands in the tidy living room.  Damn.  I know it’s here.

During lunch hour Natan walks down the hallway leading to Josh’s office at Maryland University.  She rounds a corner, running into the back of a woman dressed in sequins and a black wig, standing singing in front of a small group of students.  Josh is a part of the small crowd as well, lingering behind the students as he watches.

Natan is startled by the scene. “Uh…excuse me, ma’am.”  As the woman turns around, Natan is shell-shocked to find Amanda dressed to the hilt in Riana-esque attire. “Ms. Clark?!” she says, stunned.

Amanda approaches Natan, singing one of Riana’s top tens from the 60s.  “Freedom comes from lovin’ you…my strong baby…you  know it’s true.”  Amanda points at Natan. “Just come back to me baby…with all of you…I promise our love will get us through…”  Amanda dances as she sings, “Just try me on for size…one more time…you know we fit, incredibly fine.”

Natan stands with her mouth open, completely embarrassed and overwhelmed.  Josh sees Natan and maneuvers through the students toward her.  Amanda turns back to the students and continues singing in the background.

A concerned Josh reaches her. “Agent Natan.  What are you doing here?  It’s still not safe for us to be seen together.”

Natan stands dazed. “I’m here to see Ms. Clark…uh, Riana…uh, Amanda.  She ran into me the other day and told me that she witnessed another man poking around your office.”

Josh replies, “What?  She never told me about that. When was this?”

Natan replies, “She said it was a few days ago.  And…I told her to contact me, remember?”

“Yeah…but she should have told me,” Josh says grumpily.

“I was hoping I’d get a word…but…”  Natan points at Amanda. “Now, that’s something you don’t see everyday…a lesbian drag queen.”

Josh replies, “Yeah, she’s been dressing up as Riana the last few years.”

“I completely forgot it was Halloween,” Natan says.

“Amanda is a great reminder,” Josh says. “And this is only the beginning.  There are two other parts of this sequin trilogy…complete with songs and all.”

“The beginning?” Natan asks. “She wears that get-up more than once?”

“Yep,” Josh replies. “She wears it three times a year…for two important dates in Riana Ball’s history.  On the date Riana sold her first record and for Riana’s birthday, which is in April, and…,” Josh motions to Amanda, “…Halloween, of course.”

Natan motions to the scene around her. “As fascinating as all this is…I really need to speak with her.”

“Let her finish her number and then you can catch up with her.  Come with me to my office…I was going to get in touch anyway and I want to show you something while you’re here.”  Josh holds up one finger to Natan. “One sec.”  He meanders back over to Amanda, giving her an aside, “Meet me at my office when you’re finished.”  Amanda nods while she continues singing.  Josh makes his way back to Natan and she follows him down the hall.

Natan comments on Amanda’s heels, “It’s amazing that she can dance in those things.  I can’t even walk in them.”

“I never understood how anyone could walk in them.  I bet if you calculate the spatial actuation, you would find a mathematical in-congruency,” Josh retorts.

Josh and Natan enter his office.  He heads straight for his desk, picking up pages that contain information about the binary code for the second symbol.  Josh walks back over to Natan, showing her the pages. “I figured out the first part of the binary code information for symbol two,” he says proudly.

Natan looks at the pages. “Symbol two?  What happened to deciphering the binary code for symbol one?”

Josh stumbles, “I haven’t been able to decipher the binary code for symbol one…so I moved on to the next one.”  Natan’s hair stands up on the back of her neck.  Josh continues directing her attention to the information in front of her. “Look at this.  The first part of the binary code for symbol two is unlike the binary code for symbol one…”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

Josh replies, “I mean that the sequencing is different…it’s uniquely arranged and thus more difficult to break.”

“I thought all binary code was the same,” Natan says.

“It is,” he replies, “generally, but this is a formula based on binary code that has its own unique sequence.”

“Okay, but once you narrow down the sequences, you should be able to apply that to each symbol, right?” Natan asks.

Josh continues, “Ideally, but as I said, the sequences shift…changing to better encrypt the next sequence.  I haven’t pinned it completely down yet, but I think the sequences may be inverted.  I just have to figure out the number of inversions for each symbol…and the individual components of each symbol and adjust for the inversion shifts.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying entirely, but it sounds complicated,” Natan retorts.

“It is.  But, as I said, I’m still working on it and I’m close to finding the result.  At least I figured out the first part of the binary code for symbol two.  It translates as “Use the collective matrices,” Josh reveals.

“The collective matrices?  What does that mean?” Natan asks.

Josh cannot contain his excitement. “I have a theory.”

“I wouldn’t expect less, Professor,” she replies.

Josh walks to his desk, picks up a stack of papers, and walks back over to Natan. Smiling broadly, he says, “As you know, researchers have found various matrices in the Bible Code about events in history.”

“Yes, this I know,” she says. “So?”

Josh holds the pages up to Natan. “So, here is a collection of many of the current historical matrices, from the attack on Pearl Harbor to Hiroshima…from Hitler’s atrocities to the Vietnam War.  The shootings at Columbine to the Beltway Sniper.  They’re all here.”

“Those are all listed in the Bible Code?” she asks.

Josh hands Natan the pages. “And so many more.”

Natan flips through the pages. “I had no idea there were so many.  And…you think these are the collective matrices?”

“I think these are a part of it.”  Josh walks over to his desk, continuing, “Come look at this.”

Natan walks over to his desk, still eyeing the pages in her hand.  Josh spreads out

a small chart on his desk.  “What’s this?” she asks.

“This…is the theory.” Josh points to components of the chart.  “If we can create a big matrix out of all of the current Bible matrices…”

Natan interrupts him, “How will you do that?”

Josh continues, “Let’s say we input every known Bible Code matrix discovered to date into the computer program I have that finds Codes…” Josh grabs the pages from Natan, “like these.  Then we get to look at the big picture by cross-referencing them.  Maybe we’ll find something more about the end date.”

“That sounds like an interesting idea,” she says. “But, don’t you need to put in some words specific to the context of your search?”

“Yes.  I have an idea…”  Josh is interrupted by a decked-out Amanda knocking on the open door, poking her wigged head in. “You wanted to see me, Josh?” Amanda asks.

Josh looks at Natan. “I’ll check this out and get back to you.”  He points to Amanda. “She’s all yours, Agent Natan.”

“Let me know what you find, Professor,” Natan advises.

“Will do,” Josh replies.  Josh stops Amanda as she’s about to enter, pulling her aside. “Why didn’t you tell me about some guy casing my office?”

Amanda points to Natan. “She told me to call her.”

Josh replies, “We’ll talk about this later.”  He lets Amanda by.

Amanda retorts, “She’s the one with the gun, yeah?”  Josh leaves.

Natan gives Amanda a quick head to toe.  “Nice outfit.  You’re definitely unique, aren’t ya?”

“You bet,” Amanda replies. “It’s a tribute to Riana and it’s fun for me…plus, the students get a kick out of it.”

“It sounded like it,” Natan retorts.

“Oh…yeah…the students dare me to sing every year.  You’d think they’d learn that I have no problem doing it once I have all of the right equipment.”  Amanda points to her costume.

Natan continues, “Uh…look…Ms. Clark…uh, Amanda, I came down here to see if I could convince you to come down to the N.S.A. and provide a description of the man you saw to one of our forensic artists.”

“Yeah, sure,” Amanda says. “I can do it after classes today…around four-ish?”

Natan is shocked. “You teach in that?”

“Why not?” Amanda asks.

A concerned Natan inquires, “You’re not gonna show up to the N.S.A. wearing that, are you?”

Amanda thinks it over. “I…I guess not.  Let’s plan around 5:00 then so I’ll have time to de-Riana.”

“Great,” Natan says. “If we can get a sound composite, then it could be really helpful.  It’s the main N.S.A. building in D.C., not Fort Meade.  The address is on the card I gave you.  Ask for Mark Ramon.  He’s the best we’ve got and he owes me a favor.  I’ll let him know that you’re coming.”

“Sure thing.  I’ll see you then,” Amanda says as she turns to leave.

“Not sure I’ll be there when you get there, but Mark will take care of you,” Natan replies after her.

“Oh, okay,” Amanda replies back, not turning around.

Natan follows her out into the hallway. “Why Riana Ball?” she asks loudly after Amanda.

Amanda stops in her tracks, approaching Natan again. “Riana makes me forget about all of the numbers and data that I need to deal with and lets me feel and be free.  Her music touches my soul…not to mention that it’s timeless.”

“This isn’t some kind of weird crush or something…is it?” Natan chides.

“On Riana?  No…no.  I don’t have a crush on her.  I respect her is all.  If you’re asking about crushes…and you must know, then I’d have to say…you’re more my type.” Natan blushes profusely at the gesture, squirming uncomfortably.

“Don’t fret, Agent Natan.  I know which side of the playground you play on.” Amanda winks. “I got ya back for that stalker comment, wouldn’t ya say,” Amanda teases.

“That you did,” Natan smiles as Amanda walks away.

Chapter Forty-three

Natan enters Alice’s place.  Someone has been there, as certain items are disheveled, but not completely dismantled.  She jiggles the key inside her pocket as she meanders through the living room.  Natan enters Alice’s bedroom and looks atop her dresser.  A jewelry box lies on its side, tipped and overlooked in haste.  Natan picks up the box with her left hand and pulls out the gold key with her right hand.  A perfect fit.

She opens the box slowly and finds a small, blank piece of paper and nothing else in the box.  I don’t understand.  Natan’s cell phone rings.  She pulls it out of her pocket, answering “Agent Natan.”

Josh’s voice is on the other end of the line. “Ms. Natan.  This is Justin.  Your dry cleaning is ready for pickup.”

“Thanks,” she replies. “It’s been a pretty hectic day but I’ll make it in soon.”

“We’ll be here,” Josh says, annoyed.

Natan hangs up and pockets the piece of paper.

Inside the N.S.A. security access entrance to the building, Amanda stands against a plain white photo backdrop, looking at a camera manned by a clean-cut male security guard.

“Last one now,” says the guard.  The camera clicks and flashes.  Amanda blinks.

He continues, “Okay, Ms. Clark.  We’ll have your badge ready momentarily.”

Amanda fidgets with anxiety. “Is all this really necessary?”

“Do you think National Security is necessary?” he asks sarcastically.

Amanda relinquishes with a yes nod.  The Security Guard motions with two fingers for her to come to him.

Under her breath Amanda mutters, “This is worse than the D.M.V.  I should have worn the wig.”  She walks across the camera plane over to his desk.

The guard hands her an I.D. tag. “You’re all set.  Take this up to the third floor…go to the end of the hall and look for the door labeled Specialty Lab.  Ask for Specialist Ramon.”

She takes the badge. “Thanks.”  Looking at signs scattered throughout the area, she walks toward the direction of the elevator.

Agent Knight and Agent Kalin walk by the Security desk.  Knight slows as he

recognizes Amanda as she walks away from them.  He motions to Kalin, “I’ll catch up with you.”

“Okay.  We’re still on for the range, right?” Kalin asks.

“Yeah.  Sure.”  Knight waves Kalin away.  Kalin walks on.

Knight approaches the Security Guard. “Who is that woman?”

The guard looks at his sign-in list. “That’s Amanda Clark, Agent Knight.”

“What’s she doing here?” Knight asks.

“She’s here to see Specialist Ramon about providing a description for a suspect seen at her university,” the guard replies.

“This isn’t an NSA matter.  Who authorized this?” Knight demands.

The guard replies, “Your partner, Agent Natan, did, Sir.”

Knight replies, “Agent Natan has been remanded to desk duty.”

“I…uh…I wasn’t aware of that,” the guard replies uncomfortably. “Should I call her back, Agent Knight?”

Knight hesitates. “No…no.  I’ll take care of this.”

“Yes, Sir,” the guard says, concerned he’s made a mistake.

Inside the empty general offices, Knight stands at his desk, looking through his duffle bag.  I know I had three mags in here.  Somethin’s not right.  Knight looks around the office.  Across the way sits a desk with a name plate that reads “AGENT KALIN.”  Another black duffle sits on the floor next to Kalin’s desk.  Knight looks around the empty office again.  I still have time.  He walks over to Kalin’s duffle and unzips the bag.  Three gun magazines sit next to each other in the bottom of the bag.

Knight quickly removes a gun magazine, zips the bag back up and walks over to his desk, tossing the magazine inside his own bag.  Knight adjusts his collar. I can feel the noose tightening.  Kalin enters and heads toward his desk.  He sees Knight at his own desk, with his own bag.

“You ready to shoot?” Kalin asks.

“Yeah…” Knight replies nonchalantly.

“No way you’ll outscore me today,” Kalin instigates, grabbing his bag.  Knight grabs his own bag and the two of them walk out of the office.

Chapter Forty-four

Natan drives into the parking garage and parks her car.  She shuts her car off and gets out, looking around.  Natan walks across the parking garage and opens the door to Josh’s car. “Hey Justin.  Where’s my cleaning?” she jokes.

An unamused Josh replies, “Funny, Agent Natan.  It seems silly to go through all of these hoops since you’re showing up at the university unannounced these days.”

Natan counters, “I have a plan…don’t worry.  Just keep the privacy protocol that we discussed.”

“And what about you keeping the privacy protocol, Agent Natan?” he asks, annoyed.

“I said I have a plan,” she reiterates.

“Wanna fill me in?” Josh asks.

Natan replies, “It’s unimportant at the moment.”

“Well, so is this information.”  Josh holds a pile of papers in his hand and motions them to and away from Natan.

“All right, already,” Natan says. “I’m sort of smoking someone out.”

“Smoking someone out?  What does that mean?” he asks.

She replies, “I’m making myself more available to see if I can gain a clearer picture of who’s following me.”

Josh replies coolly, “I see, Agent Natan.  Glad you’re keeping me in the loop.  Let me know how that works out.”

“Absolutely.  So, what unimportant information do you have, Professor?” she asks.

Josh hands Natan some paperwork. “We’ve come across an amazing connection, Agent Natan.”

“How so?” she asks.

“Well…I input as many of the known matrices as were available and I’ve found our next stepping stone…you could even say it’s a bridge, Agent Natan,” he says.

Natan flips through the pages. “Don’t mind me.  I’ll read…you explain.”

“I’ve found an incomplete riddle within the various matrices once they are all combined.” Josh warms up to the topic.

“Not another one…a riddle to what?” she asks.

“To the big picture, Agent Natan.”

Natan replies, “Each new development is just another riddle or symbol to solve.  Aren’t you tired of puzzles yet?”

“Agent Natan, this may be one of the most significant pieces of the puzzle yet,” he says.

“I think I’m experiencing a new gift…a new talent of mine,” she chides. “This…all sounds so familiar.  Could it be…deja vu?”  Natan looks at Josh thoughtfully. “Yes…I think it may be.  I know I’ve heard this repertoire of “significance” before…”

“Agent Natan, this is significant because of the missing pieces…not just the riddle itself.”

“I’m waiting to hear the punch line, Professor.”

Josh continues, “The pieces of this riddle are missing because history hasn’t been written yet…events haven’t happened.  We are creating the Code as we go along…like working a puzzle…filling in the pieces one by one.”

“I thought the Code was already written,” she says.

He replies, “It was, but it wasn’t.  It’s complicated.  We do have some things to work with here.  I found two significant findings in the collective matrix…I ran it with the words collective and links…”

“I can barely contain my wonder,” Natan quips.

“These are the words I found.”  Josh hands Natan a list.

Natan reads the list aloud. “Inter-connected, events, ancient computer, find, others, to follow.”  Natan hands the list back to Josh. “This makes absolutely no sense to me, Professor.”

“As I said, it’s an incomplete riddle…just the beginning, but this is what I gather from it.”  Josh points to the page. “Information about the first computer ever created…the original, Agent Natan, has been in the scientific news lately.  Created by the Greeks more than 2000 years ago, the Antikythera Mechanism was found in a shipwreck at the turn of the twentieth century. Scientists have really amped up their research the last few years to learn more about this artifact.  They’re still working on it, but you know what’s interesting?”

“No telling,” Natan says.

He continues, “This computer is supposed to be linked to astronomy somehow.  I believe that is what the collective matrix is saying and that, in time, we will see more discoveries unearthed.”

“What does this all mean, Professor?” she asks.

Josh muses, “What if the Mayans weren’t the only ones to know about the Bible Code and the end date?  What if they were the beginning…the foundation or nucleus…the path, you could say?  Could these other “findings” be like bread crumbs, creating a map of sorts for us that leads down the path? An extension of the center…toward the answers?”

“I’m sensing great complications in our future,” Natan replies.

“Agent Natan…don’t you see?” he boasts. “History is the photograph…and we’re waiting in the darkroom as we speak.  We’re the developers, Agent Natan…it’s only a matter of time before we see the complete picture.”

She replies, “So with our luck we’ll be capturing the last snapshot around 2012, right?”

Josh continues, “You know, Australian Aborigines could see stars that we have to look in a telescope to see.  Their eyesight was genetically better than ours…not to mention the fact that they had limited pollution.  It’s ironic, isn’t it…that we have so much technology and they could see beyond us.  Think about it, Agent Natan.  It’s nothing less than fate.”

Natan replies, “Look, Professor, I don’t know what you’ve been smoking to get you to this existential state that you’re in, but my biblically psychic, weirdo-metric pressure glass is full right now.”

“I’m sure this is difficult for you,” he says. “I’ll keep working on this and see if I can come up with anything else.”

“I hear you, Professor.  I just need time to process it.”  Natan looks down at her watch. “I’ve got to get back to the NSA.”

“Be careful letting yourself be exposed, Agent Natan.”  Natan laughs.  Josh continues, “You know what I mean.  I…just worry about you.”

Natan nods, smiles, and opens the door, exiting. “Thanks for your concern, Professor.  But I’ll be all right.”  Josh smiles.  Natan shuts the door and walks back to her car.  She opens the door and gets in, putting her key in the ignition.

Her cell phone rings.  She grabs her phone out of her pocket and answers as she see Josh drives off. “Agent Natan.”

On the other end of the line, Dr. Berk sits at his desk, phone in hand and twirling

a paperclip. “Agent Natan…it’s Dr. Berk.”

Natan hesitates, replying, “Dr. Berk.  This is unexpected.  How are you?”

“I’m well.  I’m calling because there’s been a development and I need to see you.”

Natan’s hair stands up on the back of her neck. “Dr. Berk.  Uh…sorry to cut this short, but I’m in the middle of a case right now.  I’ll be busy for the next few weeks.  I’ll get back in touch when things settle down.”

Dr. Berk stops twirling the paperclip. “I see.  This is important, Agent Natan.

Please do get back in touch once your schedule opens up.”

“Will do.  Talk to you soon, Dr. Berk.”  Natan hangs up.  She seems worried.  This day just won’t end.

Dr. Berk slowly hangs up the phone.  He tosses the paperclip onto a piece of

paper on the desk.  It lands on a line with Natan’s name.  It is the same matrix that Josh found, including all of Natan’s personal information.  A development indeed.

Chapter Forty-five

Inside the N.S.A. Natan gets off the elevator and walks down the hallway toward Marsh’s office.  She gets to his office and knocks on the door.  “It’s about time.  Come in,” he utters from behind the door.

Natan enters.  Marsh sits behind his desk, head buried in paperwork. “You wanted to see me, Sir?”

Marsh looks up. “Damn paperwork.  I feel like a race dog chasing the rabbit.”  He removes his glasses, rubs the bridge of his nose, and tosses them aside on his desk.                Natan waits for him to continue.  “Agent Natan, you hear about Alice taking a several-week vacation to Mexico?”

Natan shifts uncomfortably. “Yes, Sir.”

Marsh continues, “I know you know her pretty well.  You think that’s unusual, Alice taking an extended vacation…so suddenly.”

Natan replies, “A bit, yes.”

“Yeah, well, I think it’s pretty damn peculiar, myself.  But, no one’s asking me, so I guess it doesn’t really matter,” Marsh says.

“Sir?” Natan doesn’t know what to say.

Marsh reaches into one of his drawers and pulls out a small open box.  An unattached, small piece of paper sits in the box, with its edge just visible. “Alice left this box on my chair before she left.  The note was sitting on top.”  Marsh pushes the box across his desk toward Natan, who steps closer to the desk and picks it up.

The letter is in Alice’s handwriting.  Natan examines the front and back of the piece of paper, which appears to be missing a section from the bottom.  Natan reads the letter aloud. “Chief Marsh.  Please be sure to get these items to Agent Natan.  She’ll know what to do with them.  Alice.”  Natan looks in the box and finds a Mozart CD, one gun magazine, and a shot glass that says Vegas on it.

Marsh replies, “After reading the note, I took the liberty to examine the contents of that box.  Agent Natan, can you make heads or tails of this?”

Natan looks at the box. “Not at the moment, Sir.”  Natan is about to open the CD.

Marsh interrupts her, “There’s nothing in there.  And, you mean to tell me that you don’t know why in blazing hell Alice would leave you these items in my office?”

Natan shakes her head no.  Marsh continues, “Well, that makes two of us.  I smell manure, Agent Natan.  Do you smell it?”

Natan looks around. “Sir?”

“Find out where it’s coming from, will ya?” he says cordially.

“Yes, Sir,” she agrees.

“Oh…and one more thing, Agent Natan,” he asks.

Natan turns back to Marsh. “Yes, Sir?”

“Word’s out that you’re having Specialist Ramon do a little project for you.” Marsh looks at Natan with concern.

Natan tries to explain, “It’s a…”

Marsh puts his hand up. “I don’t want to know about it…just don’t let Baxter find out about it.”

Natan give him a nod of thanks. “Yes, Sir.”  She takes the box and leaves the office.

In the hallway outside Marsh’s office Natan pulls the piece of paper that she found at Alice’s house from her pocket, placing it at the bottom of the new note.  It matches the missing bottom piece of the note perfectly.  Knight and Kalin approach, duffel bags in hand.  Natan quickly jams the piece of paper and the note back into her pocket.

Kalin meanders up to her. “Well, hello there, Agent Natan.  How’s desk duty treating ya?”  Knight nudges Kalin as he approaches Natan.

“I’ll bet it’s almost as exciting as your field work, Agent Kalin,” Natan retorts.

Knight sees the box and recognizes his gun magazine inside.  He reaches in and grabs it. “What’s this?”  Not waiting for a response, he continues, “Agent Kalin, didn’t you say you were missing a mag at the range today?”  Knight tosses the magazine to Kalin.

Kalin is intrigued. “What the hell?  You trying to sabotage my shoot scores, Agent Natan?”

The hair rises on the back of Natan’s neck.  She replies, “You have unlimited capabilities in that department yourself, Kalin.”

Kalin questions, “Well then, why don’t you tell me how my gun magazine ended up in your possession.”

Knight pretends to try to contain the problem he just created. “Come on, guys.”

Natan leans into Kalin. “Marsh just gave me this box. If you have questions, take them up with him.”

Kalin looks in the box. “Who else’s stuff have you got in there?”  He grabs the shot glass. “This looks familiar.”

Knight intervenes by stepping in between Natan and Kalin.              “It’s just a misunderstanding guys…come on,” Knight encourages.  Pushing Knight out of the way, Natan grabs the glass back.

Kalin chastises her, “Woo…hoo…hoo.  Touchy, aren’t ya.”

Natan’s voice hardens. “Alice left this stuff with Marsh.”  She steps into Kalin’s face.  “You got a problem…take it up with him.”

Kalin looks down at Natan. “Who knows, maybe she wanted to make you an office gift box made of everyone else’s stuff.”

Knight separates the two of them, noticing that Natan has a nose bleed. “Agent

Natan…you’re bleeding.”  Natan touches underneath her nose.  Knight reaches into his pocket, pulls out, and hands her a tissue.

“Thanks.  It’s nothing,” she replies.  Knight looks at Natan and then back at the box.

Amanda walks up the hallway, approaching the group from behind. “Agent Natan, Mr. Ramon told me I would find you here,” she says.

Natan collects herself. “Ms. Clark.  You’re still here?”

Amanda approaches, eyeing Knight and Kalin. “It took longer than I thought, but I think he got a pretty accurate picture.”

Kalin interrupts, “What are you working on, Agent Natan?”

Natan shoots Kalin a look to back off. “A favor.  Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Kalin continues, “Ringside seats to watch Natan’s career crash and burn…now this I got to see.”

Natan focuses on Amanda. “Thanks again for coming in.  I’ll call you if we find anything.”

Amanda takes the hint. “No problem.  Take it easy.”  Amanda walks away, toward the direction of the elevator.  Natan walks the other direction.

“I have to meet Specialist Ramon.  Do you mind, Agent Kalin?”

“Not at all, Agent Natan.”  Kalin taps Knight on the chest. “Come on.”  Kalin and a reluctant Knight follow her onto the elevator.  The doors close.

Inside the elevator Natan, Kalin, and Knight stand together.  Natan is annoyed.

Kalin can’t keep quiet. “I haven’t visited Mr. Ramon in quite some time.  How

about you, Agent Knight?

Knight is silent.  The elevator opens.   Natan gets off the elevator and Kalin and Knight follow her down the hallway.

Knight speaks in a lowered voice to Natan, “Are you working a case…because you know you’re not supposed to be?”

“It’s not a case,” Natan replies.  She gets to another office at the end of the hallway.

A sign on the door reads “SPECIALTY LAB.”  Natan knocks on the door, opens

it, and goes inside.  Knight and Kalin follow, bags in hand.

Mark Ramon, an honest fellow of short stature and kind eyes, sees Natan coming

with the fellas. “Agent Natan.  Gentlemen,” he addresses them.

Kalin chimes in, “Long time, Marky Mark?  How you been?”

“Not bad, Kal-el…yourself?” Ramon replies.

Kalin eyes Natan. “Things have definitely been looking up lately.”  Ramon watches the exchange, looking at Natan and then at Knight and Kalin.  Knight meanders around the room, observing two chairs facing each other in the background.  One chair has an artist’s easel in front of it holding a sketch pad and chalk.

“What’re you guys doing here?” Ramon inquires.

Kalin spots Knight looking at the sketch on the easel. “What do ya got over there?”  Kalin ignores Ramon’s question and heads over to Knight.

Ramon leans in to Natan. “Agent Natan, is everything all right?”

Natan touches Ramon’s arm. “Don’t worry about it, Mark.  You can’t stop a giant boulder from rolling down a hill, so just get outta the way.”

Ramon nods with understanding, moving in closer to Natan.  He whispers, “I was able to scan a few copies.  They’re on my desk…but I didn’t have enough time to copy as many as either of us would have liked.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, Mark,” she replies.  Natan walks over to where Kalin and Knight stand.  Mark follows.  Kalin appears upset and rushes past Natan, dropping his duffel.

Kalin’s interest is piqued.  “I know that tattoo,” he says to Knight.  “Where’s the Bureau book you guys keep of gang tattoos?” he asks Ramon, who motions to a bookshelf across the room.

“It’s on the shelf.  That’s my only copy.  Why?”  No reply.  Knight follows Kalin.  Natan makes her way over to the drawing.  She gasps as she catches sight of the picture.  Ramon rushes over to her.

On the other side of the room Kalin pulls a huge notebook down from the bookshelf and starts flipping through pages.  “What’re you doing, man?” Knight asks a suddenly manic Kalin.

“Trust me, Agent Knight, I know this tattoo,” Kalin replies.

Natan stands in front of the picture with Ramon as the two have their own discussion.  “I’ve seen this guy before,” Natan says in a lowered voice.

“Where?” Ramon replies.

“On the street a few weeks back.”

Ramon replies, “I thought this guy was seen casing an office at the Maryland University.”

Natan replies, “He was.”

On the other side of the room Kalin stops on a page with a tattoo of red angels’ wings.  He points at the photo of the tattoo for Knight. “I told ya.”

Across the room Natan touches the tattoo on the drawing.  Knight and Kalin listen

in the background.  “I wish Alice was here...she could run it through the database,” Natan tells Ramon quietly.

Kalin walks back over to Natan and Mark with notebook in hand.  Knight is on his heels.  Kalin can’t help but banter with Natan, “Let the poor lady have her vacation, Agent Natan…she’s evidently in need of one, lifting my gun accessories and all.”

Ramon whispers an aside to Natan, “I know a guy at the Bureau.  I’ll give it to him and see what he can find.”  Natan acknowledges his attempt to help with a quiet thank you.

“Agent Natan, where do you know this guy from?” Kalin asks.

“I don’t know him,” she replies.

“Well…why is Mr. Ramon, our favorite forensic artist, drawing pictures of him?” Kalin retorts.

Natan is silent.  Kalin pushes the book in front of Natan, opening it to the page with the tattoo of red angels’ wings.  Kalin continues, “I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into, Agent Natan.”

Natan looks at the photo of the tattoo and back at the drawing. “How did you find

this?” she asks.

Kalin checks his cockiness for one brief moment. “I used to work at the Bureau in L.A.  This tattoo is a cult design…”

“A cult design?” Natan looks curious as Knight listens intently in the background.  Ramon removes the sketch pad from the easel and lays it flat on another table.

Kalin continues pointing to the tat. “Yep…they’re called Devil’s Wings.  This tattoo belongs to a Satanic Cult that originated on the West coast.  I had no idea they were on this side of the country now.  These guys are some serious bad news.”

Natan watches Mark shade some perimeters of the drawing.  Knight blends into

the background, quietly flipping through pages on Mark’s desk.

“That’s it,” Natan says under her breath.  She walks away, discretely grabbing some of Mark’s chalk on her way out.

Kalin calls after her, “Agent Natan…where’re you going?”

“Thanks, Mark,” Natan says over her shoulder.   Mark nods a you’re welcome to Natan.

Kalin continues, “Agent Natan…these people are cold-blooded killers.  You don’t want to get mixed up in this…even with your terrorism experience. It just doesn’t compare.”

Natan replies, “Don’t worry about it, Kalin.  I’m on desk duty, remember?”

Kalin is about to respond when he sees Knight slip one of the copy pages into his own duffel.

Chapter Forty-six

Inside a private office Natan sits alone with Alice’s new note and the paper she found at Alice’s place lying out in front of her as a complete page.   Natan grabs the chalk from her pocket.  Using her index finger, she feels the smaller paper, then takes the chalk and begins to shade it.  The chalk illuminates some writing.  Letters appear in white.  It’s wax based…quick and brilliant, Alice.  Natan recalls touching the wax pencil in Alice’s pen holder when she was at her house earlier.

Natan stares at the paper in her hand.  It reads “JACQUELINE NATAN.”

What does my adoptive mother have to do with this, Alice?  What are you trying to tell me?

Looking for anything she might have missed, Natan enters Alice’s new office.

The office is quietly loud and ominously vacant.  She searches frantically, flipping through papers on Alice’s desk.  Natan spots the notepad where the note and torn piece came from.  She searches wall-lined file cabinets, rifling through files.  Natan grabs Alice’s computer mouse, trying to gain access.

The computer reads “REQUESTING PASSWORD” as it blinks at Natan.

Natan ignores it, opening Alice’s desk drawers as she makes her way through additional files, stopping on one file in particular.  Natan stands with a police file in her hand that reads “Jacqueline Natan—CASE CLOSED.”

Natan stands in the office with file in hand as the password continues to blink at

her, demanding attention that she cannot give to it.

Inside Baxter’s office Knight sits in a chair in front of Baxter’s desk.

“Sir, this is getting out of hand,” Knight says, concerned.

“There’s no turning back now, Agent Knight.  Alice has been taken care of…Agent Natan is teetering on the edge.  If you can find one more piece of incriminating evidence, she’s gone.” Baxter answers.

A collage of Baxter’s vacation photos litter a section of wall in his office.  One photo in particular is of Baxter winning big in a casino in Vegas next to a photo of Baxter and a colleague smiling and standing in front of a building, Vegas Desert Annex.

“This isn’t what I signed on for,” Knight says with worry.

Miscellaneous vacation adornments sit on a shelf underneath the photos, including a Hawaiian lei, a cowboy statue, a marble miniature slot machine, and others.

Baxter continues, “Lest you forget that you came to me, Agent Knight.  You begged me for this chance.  Just be grateful that I gave it to you.”

A clear circle surrounded by dust sits silently on that shelf that used to house a Las Vegas shot glass at the back of the vacation memorabilia.

Baxter stands, rounds his desk, and positions himself behind Knight, putting his hands on Knight’s shoulders.  “We’re in it through the finish,” he says to Knight, as a worried cloud enshrouds Knight’s entire face.

Chapter Forty-seven

Natan stands in the doorway of Alice’s old, bare office.  Hidden inside the ceiling, out of view from Natan, lies the missing disc, sitting on four corners of the ceiling tiles within the ceiling itself.  Natan runs her fingers through her hair.  What are you trying to tell me, Alice?  Natan looks one last time, and after finding nothing, flips the light switch off.

Inside an underground facility on the outskirts of Las Vegas, a terrified, wide-eyed Alice lies in a hospital gown, with a rubber mouth restraint and her hands and feet strapped to a gurney.  Calming classical music emanates from the selectively placed speaker system.

A doctor stands over a helpless Alice as he flips through the pages of a clipboard

in hand, “Don’t you worry, Mrs. Warren,” he says, “You’ll be taken very good care of.”  He smiles at her terror.  “Our facility is one of the best on this side of the country and, well, with your government health plan, you’ll receive the best treatment we can give you.”  The doctor sets the clipboard on Alice’s chest.  He pulls out a syringe filled with clear fluid.  He flicks the syringe twice and then injects it into Alice’s forearm.  Her eyes relax almost shut.

“Take her to room two,” he says to a nearby orderly.  The orderly nods okay as he wheels Alice away quietly and slowly down the hallway.  A medicated Alice hears only the squeaky wheel as she is rolled toward a room labeled “IN-PATIENT.”

Baxter’s voice filters through Knight’s memory as he stands alone in the dark inside the empty N.S.A. general offices. “Don’t worry, Agent Knight.  When we’re done with her, she’ll barely be able to remember her own name.”  Knight cups his face in his hands.

Epilogue

During the obscenely late hours of the night, Natan sits alone on her couch attempting to reconcile her demons so that she can find a way to help Alice, the professor, and most of all, herself.  She picks up a pen and notepad from the nearby coffee table and proceeds to document, according to her therapist’s, Christine’s, instructions.

Natan sets the unmoving pen against the blank page and waits for the transformation to begin.  There is nothing.  Emptiness consumes the page as the pen yearns for expression.  Natan waits patiently, feeling the welling up within her.  As the strokes finally emerge, this is what she writes:

In the far corners of the mind one can find themselves in a state of awareness or delirium, the space between the two only a sliver of what one would imagine it to be.  Somewhere between this gap of reality and fantasy one must carefully teeter to find the real meaning.  Faith is tested by the delicate interweaving of balance that defines this point.  Fear and doubt are vengeful participants in this realm of in between, accompanying all who wait here.

Natan’s pen stops, as if taking a breath of recognition, then resumes again, urgently writing the words,

And so it begins, the emergence of the prophet.

A shocked Natan drops her pen, realizing what she has written.