Page 4 of Operation Heartbeat
A moment later, Commander Barrett’s voice filled his ear, a relief after all the static he listened to on the flight to DC.
“What do you got, Con?”
“A cryptogram. I need someone to crack it.”
A beat of silence followed. “I only have one option for you. You’re going to Princeton.”
* * * * *
Sophie Edwards stood at the front of the lecture hall, a felt-tipped marker poised over the whiteboard she was drawing diagrams on. As she scribbled and drew arrows, she explained her process to her students.
The hall that held three hundred seats was packed this afternoon, and while she’d love to believe the students of Princeton were excited to hear her lecture today, she had afeeling that the rainy weather had driven them in from the lawn and the friends they’d rather spend time with.
She swept a look across the hall. “Technology has become a great equalizer, but it’s also a great divider of our time. It allows humans toconnectacross countries, continents, even from outer space. On the flip side, it’s also made us more isolated from connections we would have made in person before.”
She wrote the words out in note form for the students to copy.
A murmur rippled throughout the hall, and she half turned from the whiteboard to scan her audience.
She stopped. The dean had entered, along with another man.
A huge man.
Tall and broad-shouldered with chest and arms that looked powerful enough to take on a dozen opponents in a fight. Next to him, Dean McCall looked like a shrimp.
They were both staring at her. And her students were staring atthem.
“Can I help you?” Sophie placed the cap on her marker and set it on the tray.
Dean McCall was a man who never seemed to age. His hair was shot with gray strands but still mostly brown. And the creases around his eyes never seemed to get deeper—except for today.
Her stomach dipped.
“We have a matter we’d like to speak to you about, Ms. Edwards.”
She slanted her gaze from the dean to the buff guy. He wasn’t just big. She was pretty sure he came with his own rocket boosters. His dark brown, nearly coal-black, eyes settled on her and didn’t move.
She gulped and gathered herself. “I take it this can’t wait until after class?”
Dean McCall jumped in. “No. You’d better speak with…uh…this gentleman. I’ll take over the class for you.”
She blinked at him. “Okay.” She turned to the front row where her teaching assistant sat. “Margaret, if you don’t mind updating Dean McCall about where we left off?”
The young woman nodded, but she shot a nervous smile at the “gentleman.”
Sophie craned her neck to look up at him. He just twitched his head toward the exit and turned without any display of that gentlemanly behavior the dean alluded to.
His legs were as long as tree trunks, and just about as thick. The black pants he wore molded to his muscled body, and his black long-sleeved shirt spanned tightly across his back and wide shoulders.
She sped forward to keep up with him as he led her out of the lecture hall and into an empty classroom next door. As soon as the door swung closed, he turned to her.
“My name is Con.”
“Con?”
As in ex-con?
“Stands for Constantine. My last name,” he clarified before she could ask.