“He was going to expose it all?” Koger asked.
Citrone nodded. “But who knows? In the early-morning hours of May 22, 1949, about six weeks after he’d been hospitalized, his body, clad only in the bottom half of his pajamas, was found on a third-floor roof below the sixteenth-floor kitchen. The official navy review board waited five months before saying it was a suicide jump, offering no explanations.”
“Why could it not have been?” Cassiopeia asked.
“Beside his bed Forrestal left a written statement. The contemporary press and later biographers called it a suicide note. But it hardly fit the mold. It was part of a poem from a translation of Sophocles’ tragedyAjax. Seventeen lines.”
She knew the poem, having read it as a teenager. Her father had been a student of the classics and wanted his only daughter to be the same. After the great warrior Achilles had been killed in battle, a debate arose over who should receive his armor. Ajax, as the greatest surviving Greek warrior, felt he should be given the armor. But Kings Agamemnon and Menelaus awarded it instead to Odysseus. Ajax was furious and decided to kill all three of them. But the goddess Athena deluded Ajax into killing an entire herd of animals, thinking them men. Once he realized the deception, and the extent of what he’d done, overcome by shame, Ajax killed himself.
She told Citrone what she knew.
“And who said the classics cannot be instructive,” Citrone said. “The symbolism and connection to reality are clear, provided you know the facts. The CIA and the fools conducting the Forrestal investigation did not make the connection between the poem and reality. Of course, the investigators knew nothing about the Black Eagle Trust. That was a closely held secret. The CIA tried to suppress what Forrestal wrote, but too many people knew about it. So they let it remain, thinking everyone would believe it theramblings of a crazed mind. Which is exactly what happened. But Forrestal was anything but crazy. He was sending a message. Subtle, but loud and clear.”
“And the point of this history lesson?” Koger asked.
“James Forrestal was probably murdered to keep him silent. And if the people involved with the creation of the Black Eagle Trust were willing to do that, what do you think the people involved with ending it will do?” Citrone paused. “There’s just the two of you, plus Cotton Malone. Yes. I know about him. Neverlight does too, and they have their sights set on him. Three people against the Central Intelligence Agency. Derrick, you were not sent here to protect Kelly Austin. You were sent here to set her up to die.”
The boat continued its steady rock back and forth on the choppy water. Cassiopeia now realized that she’d just killed three CIA operatives. That would not go unanswered. But she was more concerned about Cotton.
“I assume,” Koger said, “I’ve now become a problem for them too?”
Citrone nodded.
“All right, Rob. Time for you to choose sides. And I swear to all that’s holy, if you double-cross me again, I will put a bullet in your head. You get my meaning?”
She could see that Koger was not bluffing.
“Derrick, I am now as expendable as you,” Citrone said. “They will kill us all. So I have no choice but to align with you. The enemy of my enemy and all that bullshit. Thankfully, there might be a way to get ahead of them.”
“I’m listening,” Koger said.
“As I told you, I actually do have the map for the Philippine caches. The original is safely tucked away. I also know where the gold is being held here in Switzerland.”
“We’ve heard this before,” Cassiopeia added.
“Yes, you have. But as Derrick has so eloquently pointed out, the situation has changed and he will kill me if I lie to you again.”
“Keep talking,” Koger said.
“The one thing the agency fears most is public exposure. Theydon’t want any of this to see the light of day. That could be our main weapon. All we need is physical proof of the gold. Some wonderful color images would do the trick.”
Koger stayed silent a few moments, considering the suggestion.
As was she. It made sense.
“Okay,” Koger finally said to her. “Let’s get out of here.”
And she restarted the engines.
CHAPTER 52
KELLY’S HEAD SWIRLED.
She seemed in a daze.
Similar to how she felt twenty years ago when faced with the most difficult decision of her life. She’d prepped herself for months during the pregnancy, waiting for the inevitable. For so long she’d tried to live with the decision. Not forget it.
That was impossible.