Page 75 of The Last Kingdom

“And you’re just now mentioning this,” Koger said.

“It was only a side project. But lately it’s turned into a whole lot more. I’ve studied it in detail. The OSS and the CIA, both during and after World War II, looked into it.”

Miller undid two buttons on his shirt and revealed something hanging from a neck chain. “This was in the archives from World War II.”

Cotton saw it was a small brass ward key.

Koger leaned in close. “What’s it open?”

Miller shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m still working on that. I don’t even know where it came from. It was just part of one of the old files.”

“Why did you take it?”

“I thought it would be safer with me.”

“Are you the one who had all the stuff I ordered redacted?” Koger asked.

Miller nodded. “I did. But I can see now that this whole thing is bigger than I imagined.”

“Bryie didn’t want you to tell us this?”

“Langley didn’t want me to tell you. But I thought you had to know. I have a lot more info on this at my apartment. You’re right. We can’t let the Chinese get that deed. What was for me a historical curiosity has become something far more important. Rife approached me a few weeks ago and wanted to talk all about it. I told him to go to hell.”

“You report that contact?”

Miller nodded. “Of course.”

“Let me guess,” Cotton said. “To Bryie?”

The big man nodded.

“You have eyes and ears in my team, don’t you?” Koger asked.

Miller nodded. “I’ve been keeping up with you.”

Koger was clearly agitated. And with good reason. His employer was withholding information and playing games. Big-time. Even worse, they were looking over his shoulder. But for some reason Koger did not seem all that concerned. Any other time there’d be an explosion.

But not here.

Which made Cotton wonder.

Who was pulling the big man’s strings? It had to be higher than the director of the CIA. Which left only one option.

The White House.

Koger gestured with the gun and bore his predatory eyes into Miller’s. “I need you to tell me everything you know. Right. Now.”

Chapter 40

RIFE MANIPULATED THE CHOPPER’S CONTROL STICK AND STARTED HISdescent. The concrete landing pad was roughly twenty feet across and bisected by a huge redX. Thankfully, plenty of bright sunlight illuminated the spot. He touched down softly and switched off the turbine.

The blades whined to a stop.

He grabbed a vinyl bag from the passenger’s seat and slid open the plexiglass hatch. A cold wind buffeted the top of the still-twirling blades, but the pad was shielded by a short wall that capped the roof. He climbed out of the chopper and headed straight for a metal door withBUILDING STAIRWAY—KEEP CLOSEDstenciled in German on the gray exterior.

The door opened.

“Just like you wanted,” Terry Knight said. “Five minutes.”

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