Damascus Road by Charlie Cole Read Free Book Online Page B

cup, quickly taking my order. I sipped the brew and grimaced. Pierre
would be disappointed. I could see why Isaac got his coffee from down the road.
    “Isaac, look at me.”
    He glanced up from his paper, and I leaned forward.
    “What?” he asked.
    “My father served in the Army.”
    “I know.”
    “What you may not know is that he led men into combat,” I
continued. “He was a grunt before he was a general.”
    “Your point?”
    “The man can recognize an ambush when he sees one,” I said.
    Isaac stopped with his coffee cup halfway to his lips.
    “You think the threat is real?”
    “I think a man who can work while under fire from enemy
troops doesn’t panic when he gets a threatening letter,” I said.
    “That actually makes sense.”
    “He also wouldn’t go out on a limb and ask his wildcard son
for a favor unless he was up a creek,” I said.
    I had Isaac’s attention now.
    “I’m here to help my father, so don’t fuck with me, Isaac.”
    “Okay, I understand.”
    “May I see the letters?” I asked.
    Isaac reached into a worn briefcase next to his chair. He
laid a folder on the table and flipped it open.
    There were six letters inside. I spread them out in front of
me and read each carefully, meticulously taking my time.
    “What do you see?” Isaac asked.
    “These people are frustrated but not angry. They’re afraid,”
I said. “They don’t like what the Senator stands for or his policies, but they
don’t want to be discovered. They cut out letters and pasted them together like
a ransom note. Something they saw in a movie once. There’s no anger, no rage.”
    “You’re looking for anger?” Isaac asked.
    “I understand anger.”
    “Oh.”
    “This guy’s a quack,” I said, flinging the fifth letter back
at Isaac.
    “Is that a technical term?”
    “Yes, try to keep up, will you?”
    “Sorry.”
    “Where did this one come from?” I asked, holding up the last
letter.
    “That one arrived in a pile of promotional material we
ordered,” Isaac said. “I called the printer, guy I’ve known for years, but they
had no idea what I was talking about.”
    “Was it in the packaging? A sealed envelope?”
    “No, we found it the day after delivery. The note was
between the flyers,” Isaac said.
    “He’s been in the office,” I said. “That’s your guy.”
    “How do you know?” Isaac said.
    I picked up the note and read it.
    “Thou art the man,” I read. “Do you know where that’s from?”
    “Sounds vaguely familiar,” Isaac shrugged.
    “It’s from the story of King David in the Bible,” I
explained. “It’s said by a man named Nathan, accusing the king of past sins.”
    “So?”
    “Righteous anger,” I said.
    “Oh.”
    Isaac’s phone rang. He answered it, and I turned to my
breakfast.
    “Hello?” he said. “No…what? Who is this?”
    I looked up from my omelet and saw the expression on his
face.
    “Of course, he’s right here,” Isaac said and held out the
phone to me.
    “Who is it?” I asked around a mouthful of eggs.
    Isaac shook the phone at me.
    “Hello?” I said.
    “James Marlowe?” said the voice. It was male, deep, mid 30s.
I didn’t recognize it.
    “Mom?” I said in mock surprise.
    “I presume you received my note.” Humorless.
    “I did.”
    “Then you know what you can call me,” said the voice. It was
a test.
    I sighed.
    “Nathan,” I replied.
    “Very good,” said Nathan. He sounded pleased.
    I stopped the passing waitress without saying a word and
took her order pad and pen. I smiled warmly and she did the same, playing
along. I scratched a note quickly and spun it around for Isaac to see.
    Find out where my dad is.
    I tossed my phone to him and he started dialing.
    “What do you want, Nathan?” I asked.
    “I already have what I want.” Dead fact. No question. No
gloating.
    Isaac’s face was dead white. I gestured a question. What?
    “The Senator’s been kidnapped,” Isaac said. “Two agents are
down.”
    I stood,