The sight took Sin’s breath away. “This place is right out of the turn of the century.” Sin was awash in history as she walked around the ground floor—a huge ballroom in disrepair stared back at her. The only thing that looked like it didn’t need complete restoration was a marble fireplace and the portrait above the mantle. “I’ll be damned,” she pointed, “that’s Henry Flagler and someone who looks a lot like you.”
“My grandmother’s brother,” Charlie said. “Her maiden name was Johnson.”
Her eyes twinkled from the reflection of the chandelier. “This is going to be a long conversation.”
Charlie smiled. “A conversation for another day. Follow me upstairs and I’ll make you that cup of java.”
Sin followed Charlie up a spiral staircase that was straight out of the movie, Titanic.
“Un-freakin-believable,” she uttered as they crested the top step and Charlie flipped on the lights.
Sin’s jaw hung in amazement. “Jesus, the surprises keep coming.”
Charlie continued to walk through the formal dining room to the kitchen.
Entering the kitchen, she saw a large copper cappuccino/espresso maker sitting on the stainless steel counter top. Sliding her hand over the counter, she said, “This sure doesn’t look original.”
“Naw, I made a few upgrades here and there. The old plumbing busted, so I figured I would just put in a whole new kitchen and update the bathrooms. Everything else is as it was when this home was first built.”
“How did you pull off the rebuild if this place is supposed to be vacant?”
Charlie’s eyes twinkled. His smile enhanced his crow’s feet. “I had it arranged for the house to be labeled as a historical site. When the architects were finished analyzing the place, I had the workers come in, do the rough work, and bring in the fixtures. When they were finished, I did the rest myself.”
“And, you did this all under an alias, I suppose?”
“Hell,” he laughed, “I have so many names, it takes a computer program for me to keep them straight.”
A few minutes later, Sin and Charlie were seated in the library—a large room with vaulted ceilings. The walls were lined with bookshelves and they were all filled with leather bound classics as well as suspense thrillers from some of today’s best-known authors.
Charlie sat behind a large mahogany desk and smiled at Sin. “You’re gonna love this.”
She watched as he reached under the desktop. Without warning, the bookcase on the opposite side of the room began to rotate. By the time it turned completely around, the wall was filled with flat-screen monitors. She turned back toward Charlie about to make a snide remark when she watched him reach under the desk one more time. This time, the portion of the desk that was covered in an antique leather writer’s blotter began to flip. As it disappeared, a keyboard embedded in the desktop appeared.
“What the fuck is this,” Sin mused, “Mission Impossible?”
Charlie kept his head down, pecking at the keyboard as he answered. “That shit’s child’s play.” He looked back up with a gleam in his eye and tapped the enter key.
The monitors flashed to life, some scrolled numbers while others showed images from around the world.
Sin stood up and walked the breadth of the room, never taking her eyes off the wall. “These aren’t news feeds,” she said. “Where the hell are these images coming from?”
Charlie rose from behind the desk and joined her. “I’ve tapped into the intelligence satellites from the CIA, the FSB, and the Mossad. Give me another week and I should be on-line with the Chinese. Those bastards are tricky, but I think I finally wormed my way through their firewalls.”
Sin arched her eyebrows in amazement as she viewed all the feeds. “Charlie, as incredible as all of this is, how does it help me?”
“It doesn’t, I just wanted to brag a little,” he chuckled. “It’s a little rough having all this and not being able to share it with someone.”
Sin thought back over her years on the outside of the agency. Her years as a rogue contractor. She had done so much good, but no one ever knew or will ever know. She knew exactly how Charlie felt.
She leaned toward him and gave him a peck on his bearded cheek. “Thank you for showing it to me, and thank you for helping me.”
Charlie just nodded, but his eyes were smiling—beaming―with gratitude.
“Sit back down and I’ll show you what I’ve been working on since earlier today.”
They sat at a small conference table. Charlie opened a drawer, pulled out a manila folder, and slid it towards Sin. “The first thing you will see is a dossier and history on Troy. It—”
Sin put her hand up as she continued to read. The motion had its desired effect and shut Charlie up. “Not what I expected,” Sin mumbled as she read. “I figured he was injured or kicked out for academic reasons.”
“Yeah,” Charlie said sipping his espresso, “you never know what triggers a person to do the things he does.”
Sin glanced toward Charlie and back down at the folder. She gave him the finger as she continued to read knowing he was metaphorically speaking about her.
He chuckled under his breath.
“The next item you will find is the background information on the ‘pious’ Jeremiah Heap. I had to do some digging but I was able to uncover some court documents you might find useful.”
Sin leaned back in the high-backed Elizabethan chair and grinned. “Nice.” Sarcasm oozed from her lips like maple syrup off the side of a stack of pancakes.
Again flipping the pages, she looked up to Charlie.
“What?” he asked.
“I was waiting for the play-by-play. What will I be reading next just in case my whittle bwain doesn’t compwehend.”
Charlie bellowed laughter. “I’m glad to see you’re still a bitch. You’ll need that spunk if you decide to stay the course of this mission.” Sin went to respond when he pointed back to the folder.
Charlie stood up, came around and sat on the edge of his desk. “Listen,” he
