The Traveler's Companion Read Online Free Page A

chortled, replying, “She didn’t specify.” He turned to retrieve a chart from atop a file cabinet. “Take a look at this, Angela. Blood and hair analysis revealed trace elements of cocaine and LSD in Miss Fleming’s work-up.” He handed it to her reluctantly, unsure of her ability to read. He watched with rapt attention as she opened the folder and began to peruse the text.
    “She’s in a drug induced coma,” Angela offered, looking over the readings.
    “The doctor said she’s in shock,” Gibbons said.
    “From the drugs?” Angela asked.
    “There was only a small amount in her blood. With LSD you never know, but I’ve seen people do more and suffer less,” Gibbons said.
    “Then what happened to her?” Angela asked.
    “Who knows?”
    Gibbons stood up from the black leather chair and approached the live feed. “She was last seen in Paris where she’s studying acting at the Sorbonne. We have yet to get surveillance on her alleged boyfriend, C.C. Go. To be clear, we’re not actually sure Go exists. Could all be rumor and innuendo.” He made a selection on the touch screen and brought up a sketch composite on the flat screen. “This picture comes from shady eyewitness accounts and the artist’s imagination, but it represents the only known likeness of C.C. Go.” The sketch was crude, indeed. If the CIA sold picture frames, this would have come with it. He had chiseled features and tousled hair. He was wearing sporty sunglasses. He was frowning, of course, yet more than anything else he looked angry.
    “Sending Melissa Fleming to us this morning was a message. Someone doesn’t like us snooping around in their elite little world,” Gibbons said. He handed Angela a red folder. “Here’s Go’s file. Take a look then meet us down in the infirmary.”
     
     
Case# 3721-04
Code Name: “The Native”
SECURITY CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET
C.C. Go:
He has a sort of mythical stature. To some recruits he represents the brass ring, while to others he’s merely an invention the CIA uses to motivate cadets, similar to the way parents use Santa Claus to get children to be good. Others believe, like academics postulating about Homer or Shakespeare, that he’s a collection of men. Among criminals he’s rumored to be a black ops division of the government, a clever ruse that will lead them to capture.
There’s also a rumor about a man who was the son of a travel book writer.
As the legend goes, C.C. Go’s father, Devin Go, was a moderately successful travel book writer. He was never wealthy, but he dressed in expensive European suits and patronized exclusive restaurants and clubs, gaining access to this world through sheer charisma. He wrote several books intended for the wealthy traveler. His readers might find listings for five star hotels, ski slopes in the Swiss Alps, and romantic getaways at tropical resorts. He met his wife, Lia Lynn Paciera, a Hawaiian native, while she was working as a cocktail server at a resort on the island of Maui. They traveled to exotic destinations around the world and bore a child on the road. C.C. was raised on trains, planes, and rental cars.
A footnote on the bottom of the page read:
Although C.C. Go’s country of origin is unknown, CIA intelligence data suggests Czechoslovakia or France.
Devin Go also had a range of hedonistic appetites. He visited the red light districts at night when his wife and child were asleep. As a preteen, C.C. Go once followed his father along the Rue St. Denis in Paris, a small strip of which is infamous for legal prostitution. He watched as his father solicited a prostitute. It must have fascinated and horrified him because his covert operations became a nightly ritual: opium dens in Asia, secret poker games in Monte Carlo, strip clubs in the States. One can only assume what kind of impression this would make on a small boy whose family represented the sphere of his social life. He kept a journal, his only outlet.
Devin Go’s lifestyle would