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the same openness. But being worlds apart, Hayden believed he was doing the right thing by keeping her from pacing the floor night after night worrying. What you don’t know won’t hurt you . . .

. . . Unless I don’t return . . .

“How’s the operation moving along?” she asked.

“Still a way to go,” he answered. “But we’re moving. How’re things at home?”

“I found another snare, so I posted signs all over the property telling the owner to come get his trap. So far, no one wants to take ownership.”

“Good girl.”

After a lapse of silence, Shari asked, “OK. What’s the matter, Kimball? You don’t sound right.”

“Just the sudden change in time,” was all he said, which was partially true. Going halfway around the world and then to hit the tarmac running was a lot to ask. But Hayden was more than capable of handling these sudden time shifts and remain alert.

Standing twenty feet away was Mr. Spartan, who gestured to Hayden to hang up.

“Look, hon, I’ve got to go. I won’t be able to call you hereafter due to protocol. I know that’s something you understand.”

“You can call me after the mission, yes?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“I know you will. Love you.”

“Love you, too. And Kimball?”

“Yeah.”

“Be careful.”

“You know I will.”

After hanging up, Mr. Spartan held his hand out to receive the phone, which Hayden gave to him. Detaching the back and removing the battery and SIM card, Mr. Spartan said, “Just a precautionary measure we take,” he told him. “If the Shadow Klan should discover your identity, they’ll discover everything there is to know about you, including your phone number. Once they have that, they’ll try to track you. And we don’t want to help them out in that department, do we?” He returned the useless cellphone to Hayden.

Tucking the phone inside his pocket, all Hayden could think about was his Shari. Just the image of her in his mind’s eye brought a smile to his lips, a marginal grin of adoration.

After collecting their bags, Kimball Hayden, along with his newfound teammates, started their journey in the hunt for Aaron’s rod and its coveted power, the Eye of Moses.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Lucerne, Switzerland

Salt did not leave Deep Mountain until the following morning. After taking the cable car to the station, he left the facility and decided, instead of going to his residence, to go to a coffee house. The shop was packed with people using laptops. Few conversed. But Salt found solitude out on the patio beneath a parasol-covered table with a hot steaming cup of cocoa. Sometimes he relished these moments alone. Though he loved his wife and children, he also had a need for separation.

Since the air had such a morning chill to it, he was forced to hike the collar of his jacket around his neck while sitting in a wrought-iron chair. Plumes of vapored breath escaped his lips while appearing detached from his surroundings. Then with a subtle shift of his eyes, he traced the cable of the cable-car all the way up to the mountain precipice. In time, as the Shadow Klan pushed forward with its agenda to create a totalitarian society, that mountaintop estate, he knew, would someday be the ruling throne of a new king.

Taking a sip of his drink, Salt’s thoughts once again centered on his family life. A wife and two girls, a family he could be proud of and cherish. Yet he knew his station in life was a dangerous one. Should he be targeted, it would be his family that the opposition would go after to bring him out of the cold, since they always attacked the weak points. That was how he was able to bring Mr. Copernicus to his knees, by attacking his weakness. And because Mr. Copernicus relented, the Shadow Klan was not only in the possession of Nostradamus’ crucible, which unlocked the secret of absolute power, it also enabled them to tap into that power by obtaining the Eye of Moses.

In time, if given that luxury, he knew that Elias Caspari would sit upon the throne at the top of the world to rule with an authoritative fist and have no equal. This had been the dream of madmen over the ages. But Salt genuinely believed that Elias Caspari had the drive, the finances, and the weapon of the dark particle which no country would dare to contest.

Finishing off his drink and discarding the cup into a waste bin, Salt got to his feet and readjusted the collar of his jacket. It would be his first faux pas—one that would open a gateway for the opposition to take advantage of. Salt had looked directly into the face of a CCTV camera without giving it a second thought, then headed home.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The Consortium Stronghold

Cochem, Germany

“We have a hit!” The tech manning the console stated as he transferred the facial-recognition strike from one of the grid-patterned monitors to the lab’s primary screen. It was a verified match with a gauged indicator of 99%. The subject: Johannes Bossert; AKA, Salt.

Within seconds, Mr. da Vinci was linked from his personal PC inside his office so that he had a full-face view of the monitors that were stretched across the lab’s wall. “What’s his location?” he asked.

“A coffee shop in Lucerne.” The tech gave Mr. da Vinci the exact coordinates.

“How long ago?”

“Minutes. We captured his image live from a CCTV scan.”

“Continue to track his movements,” said Mr. da Vinci.

“Yes, sir.”

The tech, along with several others who were sitting at the console, homed in on Salt via the use of numerous CCTV cameras that were stationed at every street corner and intersection, by leapfrogging from one set of scanning eyes to another.

Big Brother was everywhere.

* * *

There was little doubt in Mr. da Vinci’s mind that Lucerne was a major hub of Shadow Klan activity. As he sat at his desk watching the video play out on his PC monitor, he observed Salt walking the streets of Lucerne as camera angles

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