Free Free Fall by MJ Eason Page A

a quick pass through it, I was inclined to agree.
    The man was a mastermind when it came to using obscure languages to communicate with his people. Usually they were only mildly challenging but this one, well, I struggled with it for hours before finally determining it was a form of ancient Aramaic. A language that my father had taught me as a child. I wondered if my father would have done the same for Justin.
    I’d only just begun unraveling the document but already I sensed its importance. Something ominous was about to take place. I could feel it in the tone of the document. Unfortunately, I was rusty at the language and it was taking me longer than usual to transcribe it. I didn’t know the full content just yet, or how bad the things I’d find in there would turn out to be and until I understood the full impact of that document, I couldn’t risk letting anyone, including Mark, know what I suspected.
    Seated in front of my computer screen, I read the first line once again. To the few people who might actually know the language, this sentence would appear to be a simple greeting from one friend to another. I didn’t believe it for a minute. It wasn’t anything so innocent.
    After those first initial words jumped out at me with all the hidden hatred disguised as a friendly greeting, the writer’s voice took on an even darker theme.
    There was a reference to something called ‘the eyes within.’ I’d never seen this particular phrase mentioned before in any other FLA document. The next line was much easier to translate. The whores of Babylon. I’d heard this rhetoric used before. From previous references, I believed ‘whore’ referred to the Bureau, while Babylon meant the U.S. government. The writer was taking every precaution to keep the words of this document secret, which lent further proof to its legitimacy.
    This type of rhetoric went on for several more paragraphs, but the implication was clear once I’d cracked the code, which had taken a little longer than usual given the complexity of the language.
    There were code names for at least seven of the top terrorists operating in the U.S. We’d had these guys under surveillance for years. Those named were members of at least five separate terrorist groups. This held unimaginable possibilities.
    These cells claimed responsibility for terrible acts of violence against our people in the past. But these guys hated each other almost as much as they hated our government. They disagreed on just about everything. If the document was believable, then how could they put aside those differences to work together?
    Was this the real reason Justin came back into my life after all these years? Was my brother trying to warn me of what was about to take place and maybe trying to clear his name in the process? If I could convince Justin to turn himself in, would he be willing to share this valuable information with The Agency in exchange for a new start on life?
    I had no idea where the document originated or how Mark got it in the first place. Was this part of something found in the raid on Jeremiah’s hideout?
    Normally, I wasn’t privy to such details. Part of the security tactics Roc put into place. The less we knew, the less likely we were to be a security risk should someone capture us.
    I picked up the phone and called Mark. The second he heard my voice, he suspected something.
    “Rainie, what are you up to?” Which really meant ‘why are you calling me?’
    “Not much, really. Listen Mark, I’m still working on the document you gave me, and there’s something I need to ask you about it. Can you tell me where you got this piece originally?”
    “Rainie, what are you doing? Have you found out something already?”
    "No…I mean, I’m not sure yet, Mark. But I need some background on this particular piece.” Mark’s silence told me how odd this request must sound to him. “Look, Mark I know this is unusual, but it’s important. I’m having difficulty