Journal One: The Tablet

In his top-floor downtown flat, Diogenes knew what he had to do and that he had to do it fast. Soon they would stop knocking and start shooting. With that thought Diogenes Reynolds slipped in to the bedroom, quietly locking the door behind him.

The heavy knocking turned into pounding and shouting followed by the sound of splintering and cracking wood. "They're through the front door," he thought to himself knowing he only had seconds left.

Diogenes quickly grabbed the chair next to the bed and hurled it through the window over looking the street. He got his head out of the window quickly enough to see the chair smash to pieces as it hit the cold winter pavement 3 stories below. Fortunately, he was planning on going the other direction.

"In here," came a voice from outside the door.

Twisting over backward to look up, Diogenes could see the ledge he needed to reach above. He climbed up on the window's edge and then crouched down and turned around to face the inside of the apartment. Just then, bedroom door burst open. Diogenes caught a glimpse of a black suit and a gun as he sprung upwards from his crouched position towards the ledge above him.

Straining to reach as far as he could, he caught the ledge with his fingers but that was all he needed. Shots rang out below him as he pulled himself up on to the roof. Wasting no time, he sprinted across the rooftop to the fire escape. He quickly scaled down to the alley below and fled on foot in to the darkness.

Diogenes wandered the back streets giving himself time to ponder what it meant; the answer is though the door of the healing fathers. He'd come across it while reading the dead priest's blog just before the uninvited guests showed up. "...through the door of healing fathers" he repeated to himself; something about it rang a bell. Then, like a lightening bolt, it hit him. Diogenes turned to the east and sprinted down the alley and in to the night.

18 minutes later Diogenes Reynolds came to an abrupt halt in front of a large iron wrought door with names formed in large iron letters decorating it's crossbars. He caught his breath as he read to himself the names he recognized; Hippocrates, Louis Pasteur, Joseph Lister. These, he knew, were all fathers of medicine. "Healing fathers," he said to himself realizing whatever he needed must be behind the door in front of him.

A tug on the handle revealed the door was locked. After a quick glance around, Diogenes scaled the wall of the two-story brick building and made it to the roof. There he found an unlocked access door and slipped inside. The building appeared to him to be a long deserted medical facility of some sort.

Not knowing exactly what to look for, he began going from room to room opening cabinets and doors, looking under beds and in closets. Finding nothing on the second floor, he repeated his search on the first floor with the same results, nothing.

"It has to be here," he though as he walked to the front door and pressed his palm against it. "Through door of the healing fathers," he repeated to himself, again. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and then slowly exhaled as he turned around to face long main hall. He opened his eyes a scanned the room. He noticed a series of dusty picture frames hanging on the wall next to a door frame.

He walked over for a closer look. They were photographs of a Cathedral he immediately recognized. It was St. Book's Cathedral. The same Cathedral the dead priest was from. The one who left the clue that led Diogenes here in the first place. It couldn't be a coincidence. He knew where to go next. But St. Books was on the other side of town, he'd have to risk hailing a cab.

15 minutes later Diogenes exited a yellow taxi in front of St Book's Cathedral. He stepped on to the curb and took in the size of the building that stood before him, it was massive. He noted that it seemed much more menacing here at night than in the daytime photo he'd just seen hanging on the wall back in the "house of heavenly docs".

Fully expecting another climb was ahead of him, Diogenes walked over to the Cathedral entrance and pulled on the front door handle. Much to his surprise, the door began to open. "Finally, a break" he thought, as he opened the door and stepped inside. It was dark inside, so dark that he felt the cold steel of a large gun barrel press against his forehead long before he ever saw it. He heard a sound behind him followed by a searing pain at the base of his skull, an then, blackness...

Diogenes opened his eyes. The throbbing he felt in the back of his head as he tried to focus was not unlike that of a severe hangover. Which is exactly what he thought he had until the fist came into focus. It was attached to a large arm belonging to an equally large man who looked very eager to use it. Diogenes realized he was bound to a chair.

"I'll ask you only once," said a British man's voice from behind him "where is the tablet?".

"What the hell is he talking about," Diogenes thought. "I don't know. Why don't you tell me." he said giving Mr.Fist a wry smile.

An explosion of pain rippled outwards from the left side of his upper lip like wildfire. "Ouch, that looks like it hurt." said the voice from behind. He continued, "If you haven't noticed, my friend Badger rather likes to hit things. Honestly" he paused pensively, " I rather enjoy watching."

"Oh. Well in that case. Could you describe the tablet? I mean, was it Kindle-like or more IPad-ish?" Diogenes wasn't going to break, but his nose did as Badger's fist connected with it at blistering speed. Though writhing in agony, he didn't weep. He'd broken his nose before. Soon the searing pain would be replaced by a dull throbbing ache which he recalled would be much more tolerable.

The British man stepped in front of Diogenes and leaned in close until the two were nearly nose to nose. "Here is your choice Mr. Reynolds." He spoke slowly and precisely, "You can tell me where it is and I promise to end you quickly, with a bullet. Or, you can refuse to cooperate cooperate. in which case I shall instruct Badger to end you using only his teeth. Quite painful, as you can image, and also quite slow." He glanced over his shoulder at a grinning Badger. Then looked back and whispered calmly, "Now Mr Reynolds, tell me where the tablet is."

"I told you, I don't even know what you are talk-" Diogenes tried to respond.

"YES YOU DO!" The British man's thundering voice interrupted. He frantically thrust his hand in to his inner breast pocket and fished out a small black and white photo. Still yelling, "TELL ME MR REYNOLDS! TELL ME WHERE IT IS!" He held the photo up in front of Diogenes an shook it violently ... "THE TABLET OF FROZEN SOULS, TELL ME WHERE IT IS!!"

Diogenes felt the blood freeze in his veins. He didn't look at the photo. He didn't need to. At that moment Diogenes learned all he needed to know. He was about to die.