Abraham's Knife

Preface

New York, Hotel Sheraton, July 10th.

Professor Paul Feiler ran as fast as he could through the hotel lobby. He held his brown leather bag firmly, his old teacher’s bag which contained the lecture – the mystery.
   The last weeks and months were swirling around in his head. The discovery… the trickery… the fear.
   Feiler rushed towards the exit, determined and resolute despite the rush and fear. There was only one final task.  One final task he had to finish.
   They can’t destroy the truth!
   The CIA agent, Charles Hogue, followed him with haste. He was tall and wore a grey suit. His black hair didn’t move and Hogue seemed calm.
   Feiler hurried through the exit and almost fell as he stepped onto the sidewalk of 7th Avenue. It was still only 09:30, but New York was wide-awake and pedestrians and cars dashed by in the summer sun.
   Where can I go? He looked around the boulevard. There! The professor ran down the street.
   Hogue’s blue eyes were riveted on Feiler’s back while the chase went on. He smiled because of the reactions of the old professor, who was going to give a lecture later that day on a topic he had no right to blather about. You won’t say a word now.
   Suddenly Feiler darted into a Chinese grocery store and without thinking Hogue put his hand on the gun inside his jacket. What was the professor up to?
   Feiler hurried into the store and looked for the object that he knew could solve the situation. It was too late to save him, but the secret could be secured. That was the only thing that mattered.
   Shelves and groceries passed him by. Feiler had pictured these circumstances before. He knew people like Hogue would one day be sent after him. He had therefore made the backup plan, which he now fully intended to carry out.
   He ran towards the counter and finally found what he had been looking for. Feiler bought the simple thing … the simple thing that would now become a key to one of history’s greatest secrets. Feiler scribbled some words on the object before asking the Chinese clerk for a favour. 
   The CIA agent waited outside the store. He knew Feiler was trapped. He would soon finish this first assignment of the day. My boss should be pleased. 
   A moment later Paul Feiler came out of the grocery store and looked Hogue straight in the eyes.
   “The game’s over,” Hogue said with a rough voice, showing Feiler his gun. “Come on, let’s take a drive.”
   Feiler looked at the people who were walking on 7th Avenue without giving them the time of day. He was not scared, despite his inescapable fate, but smiled. The game is far from over!
   “Why are you smiling?” Hogue asked, astonished.
   “I don’t want to ruin the surprise,” Feiler replied calmly and stared up the boulevard, at the cars roaring by and the sidewalk on the other side.
   Donnelly, it’s in your hands, Feiler thought before walking right into the busy street …