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Dawkins looked perplexed. "The device. It's not a threat to harm the environment or population, is it?"

"I don't believe so, sir. It's buried underneath an island where no one lives. If the bell were giving off some kind of radiation, no one would know. Although I don't think it does that anyway. It's unlikely we will ever see any effects from that device or even hear about it anymore."

"Very well. It's a shame we couldn't recover it and put it in one of our labs. Would have been an interesting study."

"Some things, sir, are best left alone."

The president smiled at Sean's last comment. He was right, of course. Some things were definitely best left alone. Based on his limited knowledge of die Glocke, Dawkins knew it could be potentially dangerous. He would rather it be buried than some terrorist organization get it, or worse, someone like the North Koreans.

"You are relieved for now, Zero," Emily said, "unless you have something else to add to your report."

He shook his head once. "No. I think that's all."

The president stood up and extended his hand once more. Sean shook it and gave a polite nod. "Mr. President. A pleasure as always."

"Likewise, Sean…I mean, Zero," he gave a wink.

"I'll be in touch," Emily added as Sean proceeded to the door.

"You know where to find me." That was a lie. She wouldn't know where he was, but she did know how to get in touch with him. Sean left the room and walked down the hall, back to the elevators.

23

Chattanooga, Tennessee

Sean sat on the rooftop patio of his downtown condo. A glass of sweet tea dripped condensation down its sides to the coaster he'd placed underneath it. The fiery sunset to the west set the silhouette of Lookout Mountain ablaze with gorgeous orange, yellow, and pink hues. He reached over and picked up the glass, taking a long sip as he stared out at the scene. A light, warm breeze brushed over his skin as the last rays of sunlight soaked him. The busy streets below were full of people going out to eat at some of the excellent restaurants the south side offered. Others were walking to some of the area's bars for drinks with friends. The sights, sounds, and smells all mingled together to remind him of how his hometown had changed so much over the decades since he was a child.

His phone vibrated on the other armrest, and he looked down through his sunglasses at the name on the screen. It was Tommy.

He pressed his thumb to the home button, and a second later, the device read his fingerprint and granted access to the screen full of apps. His finger mindlessly tapped the green text message app, and he was taken to a text message from his friend.

Sean read the text to himself and frowned. He'd only been home for ten days since the events surrounding the mysterious bell and had just started to recover from global travel. He'd snuck in a round of golf with one of his local friends, caught up on some of the latest movies, and enjoyed a few nights of Netflix binging to see some of his favorite shows.

Adriana had texted him a few times and called once. She was in Italy at the moment, investigating a lead on some stolen art that had been taken by the Nazis and given to Mussolini. He was glad to hear from her. He knew she was an expert at her trade, but it was still a dangerous game she played. Sean couldn't help but wonder how long she would play it. Then there was the other part of him that missed her.

The intense situation in which they met had lent their relationship to equally intense passion. He let his fingers play in the air for a second, remembering how her smooth skin felt.

He glanced down at his phone again. The last week and a half had been throwaway time. As he looked into the weeks ahead, he didn't see it changing much. It would be boring, at least compared to the life he'd been living for so long.

His thumb hovered over the keyboard as he hesitated to answer Tommy's message. Finally, after another twenty seconds of considering it, he responded.

Sure. What part of the Middle East?

He waited for a minute until his phone vibrated again.

Israel.

Sean stared at the one word answer. He'd not been there in a while. Might be interesting. He considered asking his friend what they were looking for but decided against it. He would rather hear it in person than via text, and Tommy's IAA offices were only a few hours' drive south.

His thumbs flew over the miniature keyboard on his phone as he answered the text message.

Count me in.

Acknowledgements

Special thanks to my editors, Anne Storer and Jason Whited, for their incredible work on my books. Their efforts make my stories shine brighter than I ever imagined.

I’d also like to thank all of my VIP readers for their support and constant feedback that helps guide me along this writing journey. My VIP group is more than just a group of fans; they are truly my friends, and I hope I always entertain them with my words.

A Special Thank You goes out to my launch team, an elite group of VIP readers who are always supportive, constructive with their critiques, and who evangelize my stories to the world. Thank you all so much. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you.

Ernest