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Rook wandered around the mall in a pair of jeans and a jacket. He eventually ended up on a bench, where he watched the repair crew. Only the south end was damaged, so business continued as usual elsewhere in the mall. Rook was trying hard to think straight. His people had done this. Government agents had caused property damage, and fired guns in the presence of civilians. They had even fired upon police.
Now, tarps covered a broken skylight, and the bookstore was surrounded by police tape. People were worried, and everyone whispered about the crisis. Rook couldn’t understand how people sworn to protect America could do this. He loved his country and so had enlisted in the army as soon as he graduated high school. He had trusted his superior officers to always have the best interests of the country in mind. He wanted to believe that these strange events were really part of a brilliant plan to capture the enemy, and that he couldn’t see the details yet. He wanted to trust Director Shade.
But he was now second only to the President in the power he wielded, and that seemed pretty damn convenient.
Rook shrugged off his doldrums and walked down to the food court for some lunch. He would just have to keep his eyes and ears open.
He was standing in line for a submarine sandwich when someone dropped his or her shopping bag. Rook politely picked it up and looked around, but no one seemed to be searching for a bag. The crowd just went about their business. He opened the bag to see if its contents provided a clue about its owner.
Inside was a book. He took it out and discovered it was the Bible. A bookmark stuck out so he turned to this page. The bookmark had a picture of a sun on one side, and was white on the other. On the white side was writing: “John 8:32: The truth shall make you free.” He turned to the indicated chapter and verse. Somehow, his spy instincts had kicked in. This didn’t seem like a coincidental bag dropping.
He turned to the Gospel of John, chapter eight. Rook found a sticky note on that page, with the same handwriting as the bookmark.
“Corner of Sixth and Madison. 8pm, alone.”
Rook ate the paper. Better to be safe than sorry.
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