Back in his modest apartment in D.C., Nathaniel sat at his desk, his father's old leather-bound journal lying open in front of him. The journal, delivered to him after Samuel's death, had become a symbol of the unfinished business between them. His father had written about physics, scientific theories, and scattered personal reflections, but there were pages that Nathaniel could never fully understand—pages that hinted at a darkness his father might have encountered or even been a part of.
A few days earlier, Nathaniel had received a letter from his mother. She had found an old box of his father's belongings tucked away in their attic and had mailed it to him. Inside the box were photographs, letters, and notes that seemed to point to a much deeper connection between his father and the Nazi regime than Nathaniel had ever suspected.
One letter, in particular, stood out. It was dated early 1942, months before his father's death. In it, Samuel had written cryptically about "the lines we are forced to cross when survival is at stake." Nathaniel had read the letter at least a dozen times, but its meaning eluded him. His father had always been a man of principle, but what could have pushed him to work with the Nazis, even in secret?
Nathaniel's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. It was Sergeant Tom Mitchell, a close friend and member of his intelligence team.
"Ready for Germany?" Tom asked with a grin, though his tone was serious.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Nathaniel replied, pushing the thoughts of his father's death to the back of his mind. There would be time to dwell on it later—once they found Falk.
As they prepared to head to Germany, the weight of the past bore heavily on Nathaniel's shoulders. He knew that finding Falk could bring him the answers he had long sought, but the truth, whatever it was, might come at a price he wasn't ready to pay.