Keith and I returned to Beavercreek with more questions than answers: What exactly happened in Wold Newton, who were the people working in the house, who is redirecting the mail to me, how did they know Mark would be staying in my house, and how do I let J.P. know his mother has died. I’m unsure of what to do next. I have no experience with anything like this. I’m a writer, a gamer, and a geek, I only pretend to deal with earth shattering problems. I’m lost. Hopefully my friends and I can come up with something before too long.
In the meantime…
Dearest Mother,
It took five days, a train, two steam ships, and a twin engine Cessna skimming the treetops in the middle of the night but we finally arrived at our destination. Cairo is beautiful, there is a certain air of mystery that seems to cling to the landscape here. I’m thrilled to have arrived, and can’t wait to tell you about my journey in more detail, but we are short on time.
Jones, Beth, Christina, and I arrived early this morning as the sun was beginning to inch above the horizon. We’d left most of our gear and weapons behind due to the weight limitations of the plane we took two days prior. It seems we will need to find more equipment. Christina informs me there is an old family friend in the area and we may be able to get an appointment with him.
We spent most of our first day looking for a safe house, and once Jones procured us a small apartment we were able to settle in. We spent the next few hours cleaning from the trip and resting up. It was good to feel a shower again.
The trip has been hard, my back hasn’t felt this bad since my teen years. A condition, I fear, that will only get worse as the prescription medication I’m taking is about to run out. Jones thinks there might be a place to get more of the pills, some sort of traveling black market, but it’s a long shot we’ll even be able to find it.
We found Schuler’s home today; it’s a fortress. There are maybe twenty guards patrolling the grounds, a dozen security cameras at various locations along the walls, and a self contained generator for the entire complex. We haven’t seen Schuler yet, but if we do, we shall have to strike quickly for fear of him moving again.
We will keep the home under surveillance until further notice.
As always, my love.
Your youngest son
J. P. Nussbaum
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