The Veritas Deception

by Lynne Constantine

  He got back on the highway, thoughts racing as fast as the car, and planned his next move. He’d been given an untraceable smartphone. He would text Taylor’s father when he got into town and ask him to meet him at East Potomac Park. Taylor had come up with the message.

  “Text—Taylor enai endaxi. Then m’les tipota. Ela sto East Potomac Park.” Which meant “Taylor is fine. Don’t say anything. Come to the East Potomac Park.”

  Jack had looked at her with confusion. “He knows how to read Greek?”

  Taylor nodded. “When he and my mother were first married, they lived in Athens. He was a foreign correspondent. He became fluent, and since my mother had learned Greek as a child, they continued to speak it to keep it alive. They would talk in Greek when they were out and didn’t want anyone to know what they were saying.”

  “I hope he doesn’t answer in Greek,” Jack joked.

  Taylor rolled her eyes. “Ever heard of Google Translate?”

  A siren wailed behind him.

  He looked into the rear-view mirror, then glanced at his speedometer.

  “Crap!” He was going eighty.

  The flashing lights got closer.

  Jack slowed the car, pulled over, and waited for the officer to approach.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY

  The man stood in front of Damon Crosse’s desk, looking pleased with himself.

  “We found his hideout.”

  Damon flashed a rare smile “Where?”

  “Vermont. An underground facility in the Green Mountains.”

  “How long ago did you discover it?” Damon asked.

  “Just now. I’ve dispatched a team. They’ll arrive within the hour.”

  “Remember: treat her with kid gloves. I don’t want one hair on her head harmed. And keep Jeremy alive. I want to talk to him.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  When the man left, Damon looked at Dakota. “You need to be gone when they bring Taylor here.” She’d done well orchestrating the clinic bombing, but her usefulness was beginning to pale in comparison to her elevated opinion of her importance. In fact, he was quite displeased with her attitude of late. She had demanded to be kept apprised of the situation with Jack and Taylor. He had gone along, not wanting to disrupt the clinic plan by upsetting her—it had been in motion for too long, and she was the only one Nathan trusted. Dakota had always been a volatile asset.

  She made a face. “As you wish. Imagine, Jack going back to her after he’d had me. I suppose his tastes really are as banal as I thought.”

  Damon had no interest in discussing her sex life. She was a loose cannon that needed to be capped. That was the problem with sociopaths—they were incapable of true loyalty and one never knew what they had hidden up their sleeves. It was a pity, really. She was interesting and held a certain fascination for him. But it was time to say good-bye.

  He depressed the red button and his men appeared. “Please come collect Ms. Drake.”

  Her eye narrowed, and she gripped the sides of her chair. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Saying adieu.”

  He nodded at his men, and they grabbed her and carried her, struggling and screaming, from the office.

  He smiled. How he did enjoy tying up loose ends.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

  Jack put down the window and looked up at the police officer looming above him.

  “Do you know how fast you were going?”

  “No, Officer. I’m sorry. I was lost and looking at my GPS instead of paying attention to the speedometer.”

  “Then you should have pulled over. It’s dangerous to be distracted while you drive. You were going eighty-two. The speed limit is sixty. License and registration.”

  Jack leaned over and pulled the registration from the glove compartment. He fished in his pocket for his wallet and pulled out his license.

  “Here you go.”

  He took them from Jack and returned to the police car to run them. Jack tapped the steering wheel and watched him from the rear-view mirror.

  He returned ten minutes later with his ticket pad in hand. He handed Jack a slip of paper.

  “I’m only giving you a warning since you have a clean record but make sure you’re more careful in the future, Mr. Morris.”

  Jack nodded. “Thank you so much. I certainly will.”

  He waited until the cop had driven away before starting up the car again. He exhaled the breath he’d been holding and took a long swallow from the can of Coke next to him. Boy, was he grateful for Jeremy’s foresight. He had been surprised when he was presented with a new identity and the credentials to go along with it. Still, he’d better drive the speed limit the rest of the way.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

  Jack arrived in Washington at six in the morning. He waited until eight to send the text. He got a response almost immediately—a simple on my way. He was sitting on a bench at East Potomac Park, facing the water. The breeze blowing off the Potomac was cold, and he pulled his collar up against the frosty bite. He expected Parks to arrive at any moment. His hand rested on the inside of his jacket, curled around his SIG. He wasn’t taking any chances. He saw Parks approach and was surprised when he walked right past him. He guessed the beard and bald head had thrown him off.

  “Mr. Parks,” Jack called.

  “Jack? Is that you?” Parks walked over and his eyes bulged. “Where’s Taylor?”

  “She’s safe,” Jack replied evenly.

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “Sit down,” Jack commanded.

  “Don’t tell me what to do. What have you done with Taylor?” His voice rose and people around them started taking notice of the two men.

  “If you want to know, sit; otherwise I’m out of here.”

  Parks grunted and took a seat on the edge of the bench.

  “I’m sitting. Where is she?”

  “With a friend.”

  Parks looked like he wanted to kill him. “What friend? Damn it, Jack, you break her heart, then come back all these years later and I’m supposed to trust you?”

  “There’s no time to rehash the past. I wouldn’t be here right now if her dead husband hadn’t dragged me into this. He’s the one you should wonder about.”

  “What did Malcolm get himself involved in?”

  “I can’t go into all of it now, but Malcolm worked for a man named Damon Crosse. Malcolm turned on him and Crosse had him killed. Now, Taylor and her baby are in danger.”

  “What are you talking about? Murder? You’re crazy! Malcolm’s death was accidental. I think you’re delusional and you’ve caught my daughter up in your fantasy world. Do you know there’s a national manhunt for you? They say you killed a man.”

  He was getting nowhere. “I was set up. I killed him in self-defense. Taylor will tell you herself when she comes out of hiding.”

  “Hiding? I want to see her now.”

  “It’s not safe. I’m trying to explain if you’d just listen. The recent bill on the vaccine expansion was created for something more insidious. Malcolm sponsored that bill until he discovered that Brody Hamilton was sneaking in a clause to mandate vaccinations for everyone. When he voted against the bill, they had him killed.”

  “Who had him killed?”

  “A secret organization run by Crosse—he’s got politicians, judges, all sorts of people, all in his pocket.”

  “Jack, you sound terribly paranoid. Do you have any proof to back up your outrageous claims?”

  Jack handed him the drive. “Take this. It’ll explain everything. It’s got the names of everyone on Crosse’s payroll and all their illegal activities. Don’t show it to anyone. It’s the only proof we’ve got. We’re counting on you to investigate the people on that file. See if you can tie them to Crosse’s organization. Check their bank accounts, look at their phones. There has to be a trail leading back to Crosse.”

  Parks took the drive from Jack.

>   “You have to guard it with your life.”

  “What?”

  “The drive that can’t be replicated or it will self-destruct. You can’t print it out either. You have to bring it up on your computer and take screen shots with your phone. Bring a witness you trust. Make sure your computer is completely disconnected from Wi-Fi when you do. It’s the only way that Taylor will be safe. Once we can get some dirt on Crosse and expose him, he won’t be able to get to Taylor.” Jack gave him a card. “Here’s the passcode to open it.” Jack hoped he was doing the right thing giving it to him.

  Parks nodded. “All right. I’ll check it out. Where are you going to go in the meantime?”

  “I don’t know,” Jack said.

  Parks gave him a hard look. “I’d like to believe you. I’ve known you since you were this high.” He held his hand to his hip. “But after what you did to her.” He shook his head. “I’ve hated you for a long time.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out his key ring. “But you have kept her safe, and if what you say is true, that was no easy feat.” He took a key off the ring and handed it to Jack. “I’ve got somewhere you can stay until I can verify this information. Our cottage on the Eastern Shore. Stay there until I contact you.” He scribbled something on a business card and gave it to Jack. “That’s the address.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Parks.”

  Jack stood up. “You can reach me on the same number I texted you from. It’s a secure phone. I’ll wait to hear from you.” He walked away then stopped and turned back.

  “Mr. Parks.”

  “Yes?”

  “Please be careful who you share this with.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

  “We’ve got to go!” Jeremy was pounding on Taylor’s bedroom door.

  She hurried to open it.

  His face was ashen. “They’ve found us. We have to leave now.”

  “They’re here?”

  “Yes. A helicopter. We shot it down, but they would have radioed him. More will be coming.”

  He grabbed her hand and she followed, running, down the long corridor.

  “Where are we going?” Taylor panted.

  “Maryland.”

  “Why? I don’t understand.”

  He pulled her into the elevator, then grabbed her hand when it opened as they ran down another corridor, then through a large garage and into an open field. There was a small prop plane waiting for them.

  “Come on. Get in.”

  Taylor got in first, and within minutes they were both strapped in their seats, doors locked, the plane beginning its taxi down the runway. Once they were in the air, Jeremy let out a big breath and turned to Taylor.

  “There’s a safe place we can stay and we’ll be close to your father. When the time is right, we can get in touch with him.”

  “Jeremy, something you told me about your mother’s journal keeps nagging at me. Was the cripple in the big house Friedrich?” Taylor asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you said that Maya talks about meeting a man with a cane, not a wheelchair.”

  “So?”

  “So, how did he start walking again unless the coins actually worked?”

  He looked up as if trying to remember. “I was sixteen when Friedrich died. He was bedridden for as long as I can remember.”

  “Could Crosse’s obsession with the coins have been out of devotion to Friedrich. To try and make him better?”

  “Absolutely. He worshipped Friedrich. I think Friedrich was the only person he felt anything for. When he died, he left everything to my father—his estate was in the billions.”

  “If Friedrich’s gone, why does he still care about the coins so much?”

  “They can do more than restore health. They give whoever has them the power to accomplish their greatest desire—if the person is on the side of evil, that is. I’ve told you. He wants to pervert society. To eradicate morality—to win souls for Satan.”

  “I understand that he was brought up to believe in all this occult nonsense, but he’s a grown man now. He still thinks it’s real?”

  Jeremy looked Taylor in the eyes. “It is real.”

  “Come on. The devil made him do it? It’s a little clichéd don’t you think?”

  Jeremy shook his head, and a sadness filled his eyes. “Taylor, the devil is not a figment of your imagination. Do you believe in God?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Then how can you discount the existence of the devil? The Bible is not fantasy. Adam, Eve—they were real. The fall was real. And ever since, there has been a battle for souls. Ephesians 6:12: says, ‘For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms’. Some believe the thirty pieces of silver contain the power to call forth more of these demons to earth. Damon has twenty. Whoever possesses all of them will command the power. Look how far he has gotten. With all thirty, there will be no stopping him.”

  “Why not destroy the coins back then?” Taylor asked.

  “Because they can’t be destroyed. They can be neutralized, but it’s not easy and we have to travel out of the country to do it. Just as the hands that channeled evil gave them a dark power, hands that have turned away from evil and toward God, hands of someone who has been redeemed, may be able to deactivate them.”

  “Do you mean someone like you?”

  He nodded. “Once we bring Damon down, I’ll explain it all. For now, if we find them, we’ll have to hide them. We need to focus on that, not get bogged down in the rest of it. If we can hide them in a holy place the destructive power is said to be made inactive while there. That’s why they were hidden in Saint John’s cave, and in the Virgin Mary’s house in Ephesus.”

  “Did you say a holy place?”

  He nodded.

  Taylor smiled. “I think I might know where they are.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

  Jack arrived at the small, white cottage and was relieved to see that there were no other houses in sight. He walked around the back, to the wooden deck, and took in the two rusty chairs and rickety plastic table. Cobwebs covered everything, and the top of the table had clumps of dirt on it. The house backed up to woods and he could imagine how relaxing it would be to sit on the deck in the morning with a cup of coffee. But right then, it looked uncared for and desolate. It was clear that no one had been to stay there in months. Once inside, he had to try two lamps before he found a working bulb. His text tone sounded, and he swiped his phone to see a text from Taylor’s father checking to see if he had arrived. He sent a quick text back.

  Too full of nervous energy to sit still, he went back into the house, stripped down to his boxers, and began doing push-ups. It felt good to exert himself, and before long, perspiration covered his back and chest. He got in the shower and closed his eyes while the water beat on his head. He stepped out, pulled a musty towel from the rack, and dried himself. Grabbing some clean clothes from his duffel, he got dressed. He opened the refrigerator to see if there was anything to eat. An open box of baking soda sat on a bare shelf. There was a bottle of white wine lying on its side and some shriveled lemons. He grabbed the wine and looked through the drawers until he found an opener. Foraging through the cabinets, he was able to find some crackers and jar of peanut butter. He took the plate with his meager dinner and sat down on the worn chenille sofa. He tasted the wine, pretty awful, but he drank it anyway. He wanted something to steady his nerves. He drummed his fingers on the armrest and tried to slow his racing mind. He was worried about Taylor but knew he couldn’t jeopardize her by calling. He had to trust Jeremy. He drained another glass and put his legs up on the sofa. He may as well try and get some sleep. He was just dozing off when the glare of bright lights, and the sound of sirens roused him.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

  When they landed in Maryland, a car was waiting
for them.

  “Can we stop by my father’s house?”

  Jeremy shook his head. “It’s far too dangerous.”

  Taylor wouldn’t get in the car. “Jeremy, my christening cross is there. It was my mother’s. It’s still in my old bedroom. I didn’t care before, but now, after everything I’ve lost, I need it. I’ll be fast. No one would think to look for me there. It’s too obvious, don’t you think?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “This might be my only opportunity. Please.”

  “I’m probably going to regret this, but okay. Do you have a key?”

  “No, but I know where they hide the spare.”

  * * *

  They were in her old room.

  Jeremy looked at his watch.

  The room looked exactly as it had when she had been in high school, the combination mirror and dresser paint-chipped and worn. She walked over to the dresser and lifted the top of the monogrammed mahogany jewelry box. There it was. She picked up the delicate gold cross and leaned in toward the mirror. She fastened it around her neck and turned to Jeremy.

  “Thank you. Okay. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Taylor?” A deep voice startled them.

  “Dad!” She ran to him and his arms encircled her in a tight embrace. Jeremy said nothing and stood back until she pulled away.

  “I’ve been worried sick about you,” her father said. “Jack said you had to stay in hiding. What are you doing here?”

  “They showed up at Jeremy’s facility. We had to leave. There’s so much I have to tell you. I assume Jack filled you in on what’s going on?”

  “Yes. I’ve got him stashed at our cottage on the Eastern Shore. He’ll be safe there.”

  Jeremy held out a hand. “I’m Jeremy.”

  Parks appraised him with a long look then shook his hand. “What are you two doing?”