The Veritas Deception

by Lynne Constantine

  Jack gave a low whistle. “So the coins that Judas received to betray Christ can be traced back to Abraham, the father of the faith? That’s some history.”

  “Yes, many powerful hands have touched them. But what makes them evil is that Satan entered Judas and when Judas held them, Satan’s power was conveyed to the coins.”

  Taylor was staring at Jeremy. “You seem very familiar with this story,” she said.

  “I’ve heard it all my life from Crosse. He has twenty of them now. He’s determined to find the last ten, and he believes our family is the key.”

  Jack’s expression grew worried. “He’s not going to rest until he finds Taylor and those coins. Do you think her family knows about them?”

  “According to my mother’s journal, he interrogated and tortured our grandparents. They wouldn’t tell him where they had hidden them, but admitted that they had brought them over from Greece and hid them.”

  Taylor turned white. “Oh my God! He tortured our grandparents?”

  “What exactly does he believe he’ll be able to do once he finds them?” Jack asked.

  With all seriousness, Jeremy replied, “Unleash the power of Hell.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

  Dakota was driving them to their mission. He was going to be a hero. She told him so. He couldn’t wait to make her proud.

  “Now remember, you walk in, go to the waiting room, and sit down for ten minutes.”

  He remembered. They had gone last week, and she showed him where to sit.

  “After exactly ten minutes, you go to the bathroom and leave the package in the trashcan. Okay?”

  “Okey dokey, lokey, smokey.”

  “Nathan!” Her voice was too loud.

  “Don’t yell! Tell. Bell.”

  “Tell me again, exactly, what you’re going to do. No rhymes!”

  He folded his arms across his chest and jutted out his chin. He didn’t like it when she talked mean.

  She sighed and reached out to put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous. Please, dear, tell me again.” Her voice was nice now.

  “Go to the waiting room. Sit. Ten minutes. Bathroom. Trashcan. Man. Stan. Lan.” He couldn’t help it.

  “Okay. When you leave the bathroom, you wait for me outside to pick you up. Wait for the policeman and then give him this note.” She handed him an envelope.

  “Policeman are scary. Very. Merry.”

  “It’s okay. You are very brave. It’s important that you give him the note. I can’t pick you up until you do. You just wait until he comes, and then you’ll see me.”

  She dropped Nathan off a block away from the clinic. He knew where to go; they had practiced.

  “I’ll see you soon.”

  He walked the block quickly, staring straight ahead. The briefcase was heavy and he shifted it to the other shoulder. What was he supposed to do with the briefcase after he dropped the package in the can? Man, shan, lan, tan. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Stop! Think! Did he keep it or leave it too? He didn’t want Dakota to be mad at him. What had she told him? Keep it. That’s it. Put the box in the trash and keep the briefcase.

  He arrived at the clinic and opened the door. A woman was coming out and smiled at him. He squinted his eyes at her. She couldn’t fool him. She was another snarkie. He pushed past her and walked over to the seat closest to the bathroom. Someone was sitting there. No, Lo, Mo, Bo, So. Stop! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Deep breath. In and out. What to do? He gave her a mean look. Maybe she would get up.

  “What are you looking at, weirdo?”

  A lady came over and whispered something to her. The stupid girl got up and followed her. Good. Now he could sit.

  The lady turned back around. “May I help you, sir?”

  He spat out the line he had rehearsed. “I’m waiting for my girlfriend.”

  She smiled and turned back around again.

  He looked at the watch Dakota had given him. 10:15. He had to wait until the numbers read 10:25. He tapped his foot and tried not to look at anyone. Too many snarkies were in here. If he looked at them, they would read his thoughts. Reaching inside his coat pocket, he found the rubber ball and started to squeeze. Breathe and squeeze. Breathe and squeeze. He looked at his watch again. 10:19. Six more minutes. He was good at math. Math, bath, lath, tath.

  A woman came and sat next to him. Her stomach was fat. He slid away from her to the edge of his seat. He didn’t like people sitting near him. What if she touched him? Cooties, mooties, booties. Stop! One, two, three, four. Stop! He checked his watch. 10:24. Time to get up! He walked over to the bathroom door and stood, watch in hand, and waited. When the numbers changed again, he pushed the door open and walked in. Unzipping the briefcase, he pulled out the heavy box and pushed it in the trashcan. It didn’t go in all the way. There was too much paper in there. He shoved with all his might. The top closed. Good. He picked up the briefcase and went outside to wait.

  He didn’t see a policeman. He hoped they would come soon. He wanted Dakota to pick him up. After a while, he looked at his watch again. 10:31. He was trying to decide whether to walk down the street and look for her when he heard a loud boom. He crouched down and covered his ears. Why were all these people screaming? And the building was on fire. It was so loud. Smoke. Smoke. Evoke. Provoke. All he had done was put a package down. Why was everything on fire?

  Nathan was scared. Where was she? When was he going to get to go home? People were running past him, and he looked for the policeman. Where was the policeman? Now there were lots of them, running up the steps.

  “Stop!” He jumped in front of one of the policeman. “Take this.” He shoved the envelope at him and the policeman grabbed it and gave him a funny look. He opened it and read it. Then he put a silver bracelet on Nathan. “Where are you taking me?” he wailed.

  The policeman pushed him hard toward the car. He put his hand on Nathan’s head and pushed him hard again. Nathan landed with a thump on the seat. The policeman stuck his head in the car and gave Nathan an angry look.

  “To jail, where I hope you rot forever,” he said.

  Nathan looked at him bewilderingly. “No! I have to leave. Cleave. Retrieve. Where is she? She said I was helping babies.” His voice rose with each syllable until he was bellowing like an injured animal.

  “Shut up!” A second policeman yelled.

  Nathan started to cry. He looked out the window as the car pulled away. The smoke faded into the background, and he wondered where they were taking him. He didn’t want to go back to the hospital, especially now that she wasn’t there. What would he do? New. Flew. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. Stop! She would come for him. She had promised.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

  Taylor’s blood work was fine. They had just finished breakfast and were watching the news while waiting for the DNA results. Taylor looked up when she saw the commotion being covered.

  “Can you turn that up?” She pointed to the remote next to Jack.

  “This is Sally Mason reporting for News 15. Late this afternoon a family clinic in Kingston, New York, was bombed,” the anchorwoman said. “So far, there are nine confirmed deaths and numerous injuries. The alleged bomber has been arrested but not yet identified. All police are able to tell us is that he handed them a note from the group claiming responsibility for the bombing. They are called the Voice of the Victims and claim to be Christians bringing God’s wrath down on those who, and I quote, ‘are responsible for the massacre of the God’s children.’”

  Smoke and screaming filled the screen as cameras captured the horror of the attack. First responders were shown coming out of the ruins carrying stretchers. There was a close up of a stretcher carrying a body covered by a white sheet. A woman stumbled from the front door with blood running down her face, and fell into the street. A crowd had gathered outside the clinic, and the horrified onlookers watched as more victims were brought out
side.

  The male anchor shook his head. “I’ll never understand what would drive anyone to do something like this.”

  “These fundamentalist groups are out of control.” Sally Mason cast a steely look at the camera. “We’ll bring you more news as soon as we have it.”

  “What the…how do these people expect to be taken seriously when they do horrible things like this?” Jack felt the fury fill him. “It’s disgusting.”

  “It may not be what you think,” Jeremy said.

  Jack jumped up from his chair, his face red. “What are you talking about? Please don’t tell me you’ve turned into some religious nut who thinks these kinds of tactics are acceptable.” He’d met enough of those freaks to last a lifetime.

  Jeremy didn’t appear rattled. Without raising his voice, he said, “Of course not. What I’m saying is that it might not have been done by who you think. My father hires people to commit atrocities and then blames them on groups he wants to damage.”

  “What?” Both he and Taylor said at the same time.

  Jack was aghast. “Please explain. Because I know for sure that there have been plenty of occasions when these insane groups have done things like this. I’ve done stories on them.”

  Jeremy nodded. “Yes, that’s true. I’m not saying they’re all set ups. I’m just telling you that I’ve seen him manipulate the news and frame groups for things they haven’t done. He hates the church, so anything he can do to give Christians a bad name, he does. Do you remember the story a few years back about the prostitution ring being run out of a local church?”

  “Of course,” Taylor said. “It made national news.”

  “That was Crosse’s doing.”

  Jack was skeptical. “Come on, Jeremy. There were lots of girls involved. Are you telling me they all lied? You can’t do something like that without someone leaking it.”

  “Well,” Taylor said. “maybe you can if you pay someone well enough. And once the story’s out, if someone comes back later and recants, no one really notices.”

  “The more I learn about this Damon Crosse the more I want to take him down. We need to see what’s in that file,” Jack answered.

  * * *

  The lab had their DNA results.

  Jack was hunched over, staring at the computer screen. Taylor’s hand shook as she held the paper with their DNA fingerprints. Now they just had to figure out in what order to input everything to open the file.

  “Ready?”

  “Go.”

  “Should I read yours or mine first?” Taylor asked Jeremy.

  “Mine. I was born first. He’s a stickler for order.”

  She read the letters aloud as Jack typed.

  “Didn’t work. Maybe he only used a part of it.”

  “The strand is cut into four pieces. The possibilities are endless,” Taylor commented.

  They tried combination after combination for the next three hours.

  Jeremy rubbed his eyes. “He would have chosen something meaningful to him, something ironic. Let me think. Try every sixth letter in each one.”

  “Still nothing.” Jack said.

  “Try only three for each—from the first eighteen letters, and pick the sixth, twelfth and eighteenth letter. It would represent 666 to him.”

  Password successful: Do you wish to proceed?

  “Bingo,” Jack said.

  Jeremy leaned back in the chair, looked up, and gave her a wide smile. “We did it.”

  “Well, let’s see it,” Jack said.

  Jeremy shook his head and typed Later. “Let’s not run the clock out. We have to let Taylor’s father open it. It can’t be printed. All his files have an automatic self-destruct if they’re printed anywhere but the main computer. He’ll have to take screen shots with his phone.”

  “Can’t we do that?” Taylor asked.

  “Sure, but do you really think your father’s going to print a story based on some fuzzy screen shots. Better for him to see for himself.”

  “What if there’s nothing on it?” Jack asked.

  “There will be. It’s the right file. You just have to trust me. There’ll be names and dates, and once investigated, I’m sure those dates will correspond with bank deposits. Once it goes public, the FBI can investigate. But it’s more important that your father has a chance to look at it so he’ll believe it. Better close it now.”

  Taylor thought of something “Does he use one of those data destruction software programs?” remembering Malcolm showing one to her. It was an application you could use for an encrypted file where you could have the file self-destruct within a specified amount of time or it could be triggered by the sharing of the file.

  “Yes. He has custom software.”

  Taylor shook her head. “I hope there’s enough information for my father to authenticate it.”

  Jeremy sighed. “They’ll be enough information to convince him. He’s kept records on senate votes, inside information he couldn’t make up. We also have the tape he kept of my mother, it could be enough to get a warrant to search the Institute. Just need the papers to make enough stink so whoever he does have in law enforcement can’t cover it up.”

  Jack raised an eyebrow. “We really need to get into that institute and get our hands on his real files. Do you think he has printouts anywhere?”

  Jeremy nodded. “I’m sure he does. He always has a backup. But this is what we have to work with for now.”

  “I still think I should go with you,” Taylor said. She couldn’t stand waiting around like a damsel in distress.

  “Once Jack has delivered the file and it goes public, we can leave here. We can’t risk Crosse finding you. It’s better for you to stay here for now.”

  Jack exhaled. “I’ll make Parks believe me.” He looked at Jeremy. “You take care of your sister until we’re together again.”

  Taylor saw a wistfulness come into Jeremy’s eyes, and the full realization of his emotionally barren life broke her heart. Here he was, this lovely man, who had suffered such atrocities, yet he hadn’t allowed them to destroy him. He had found a way to salvage his humanity.

  She took his hand in her own. “You are my family Jeremy. Nothing is ever going to keep us apart ever again. I promise.”

  He looked back at her with a solemn expression. “And I will never let anything hurt you or your baby.”

  * * *

  It was almost time to leave. Jack enjoyed the hot water beating on his back while he soaped his body. He scrubbed hard, imagining that he was washing away all the mistakes he had made. He would go to Taylor’s father, and everything would be brought into the open. This was the story of a lifetime—but he couldn’t care less about that. All that mattered was that he was going to bring down Crosse. He got out of the shower and quickly dressed.

  He walked into the hall, and knocked on the door across from his.

  It opened.

  “Hi.”

  He entered the room. “Well, this is it. I’m heading out.”

  Their eyes met.

  “Jack, I never thanked you for dropping everything to help me.”

  He shrugged. “You don’t owe me any thanks, T. I should’ve been there all along.” He sighed.

  She placed a hand on his cheek. “Oh, Jack.” Her voice broke. “It’s not fair. Both of us, manipulated like puppets. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

  He took her hand in his. “Our lives aren’t over. We’ve got a chance to set things right.” They moved closer toward each other at the same time and their lips met. Jack’s insides melted. He wanted to stand there forever and keep kissing her. He tore himself away and took her face in his hands.

  “I’ll fix it, Taylor. I promise. This isn’t the end.”

  She wiped a tear from her cheek and squared her shoulders.

  “I can,” she said.

  “Can what?”

  “Forgive you. I can forgive you.”

  He pull
ed her to him for another embrace and kissed her again. “See ya later.” He winked and left.

  Jeremy was waiting for him in the downstairs hallway.

  “Ready?” Jeremy asked.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jack said. He tapped the pocket of his jeans where he’d put the flash drive.

  Jeremy put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Remember, that file is all we’ve got. Remind him that it can’t be copied, and that the security protocols prohibit printing out the contents. You’ve got to make sure it gets to him safely. I’ve vetted him the best I could and still believe he’s our safest bet. Tell him to guard it with everything he’s got. Once he’s run the story, he can take the file to the FBI and their people can figure out how to secure it.”

  “Who would’ve thought a little flash drive could bring down an entire empire.” He grinned at Jeremy, then grew serious. “You’ll take good care of her?”

  Jeremy nodded. “Of course.” His eyes met Jack’s. “I love her too you know.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  If Jack drove straight through the night, he would be in DC by morning. Jeremy had given him a late nineties Ford Escort, and he’d left his brother-in-law’s truck at the facility. They hadn’t called Warwick Parks in advance in case any of his phones were tapped. Jack saw a convenience store up ahead and pulled in at the last second. Walking to the counter, he nodded to the cashier.

  “Pack of Lucky Strikes,” he was surprised to find himself blurt out. What the hell, he thought. If being hunted by killers wasn’t reason enough to fall off the wagon, he didn’t know what was. He took the cigarettes, got back behind the wheel, and lit one up. He took a deep drag and inhaled deeply. Man. It still felt good. He smoked it fast and leaned his head back to steady the dizziness that washed over him. He crushed the pack in his hand and threw it on the seat next to him. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea after all.