― Abbie Hoffman
Safe House
I had taken the first steps to becoming an enemy of the state.
I had instructed the girls to withdraw as much money from the bank as they could and then to leave their phones, bank cards and electronic devices behind―even smart watches or anything with a magnetic stripe or computer chip had to be abandoned.
We were reduced to the bare necessities. I was reminded of Edgar in King Lear who had to go into hiding and whom Lear described as unaccommodated... a poor, bare, forked animal wandering shelterless on a heath.
But unlike poor wretched Edgar we'd at least have a roof over our heads, but all the luxuries of civilized life we'd have to forsake simply to avoid being tracked and captured.
It was a daunting prospect with no guarantee our plans would even succeed, but we had no alternative.
I insisted we check and double check whatever we were bringing with us. I even went as far as to disable the GPS tracker built into the car.
If the girls were frustrated by my painstaking measures they gave no indication but patiently complied with my demands.
About noon, we completed our checks and just finished loading the trailer when there was an unexpected knock on the front door. The girls looked terrified and Brooke didn't want to answer but I insisted figuring it was best to not to arouse suspicions.
An older man of about eighty was waiting on the verandah.
"Mr. Shepherd?" he asked, glancing about uncertainly.
""Yes, can I help you?"
"I have a sealed file I was instructed to deliver to you."
I looked closer at the man and recognized him. "You're Jacob Cohen aren't you? I used to regularly read your column in The Telegram before you retired. Won't you come in?"
The man seemed very anxious. "I was asked by Tom Faraday to deliver this file to you in the event that anything happened to him. I think it best under the circumstances that I not stay but there's information in the file in case you need assistance from me in the future. Keep safe, Mr. Shepherd."
And having accomplished his mission the man hastily departed leaving me standing in the doorway, mystified and frightened.
Brooke overheard the exchange and waited until the man left before grasping my elbow and gently guiding me back inside.
"Obviously, Tom knew he was in danger," she whispered, "and made arrangements so you could continue your investigation of the cabal."
I snapped out of my daze. "You're right―Sorry, I was distracted―I was in awe. Jacob Cohen is a legend around the newspaper. He was an international correspondent who covered the Six Day War, the Arab-Israeli conflict, back in the mid-sixties."
"That's all good, Zach, but let's scan through the contents and make sure there's nothing that could track us. We can go through it in detail later."
We laid out the contents of the file on the dining room table but it mostly consisted of hand-written notes and photocopied pages and a personal letter addressed to me.
I felt very humbled and flattered that Tom would entrust the research to me and not simply hand it it over to Jacob Cohen.
Angelica seemed to read my mind. She had been hanging back and silently observing but now she spoke up.
“Tom respected you, Zach, and knew you’d be the best person to complete his work. I think it was because he knew somehow the Beast was targeting you and was trying to dismay you.”
I frowned, trying to wrap my mind around what she was saying. “How would Tom know about the Beast unless he were psychic? We never discussed my night terrors.”
She smiled. “He could see the signs you were engaged in spiritual warfare. You may not be aware, but when you walk under lights they dim and turn off. It’s obvious to anyone who’s been in battle.”
I felt the hair on my arms raise and stand on end as if my body was responding to her words and confirming the truth of what she had spoken.
I was way out beyond my depth and maybe that’s why she was here to support me.