Create successful ePaper yourself
Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.
Chapter 21<br />
CARL FORCE IS BORN AGAIN<br />
The two-story white Colonial home on the outskirts of Baltimore looked idyllic. In the front, a<br />
blissful stone walkway swerved past two giant oak trees. The back of the home overlooked a<br />
serpentine brook, where foxes and deer ran through the bramble and past the fragrant crab apple trees.<br />
This scene, a utopia, had been enough to make Carl Force and his wife fall in love with the home<br />
—the perfect place to raise their kids and maybe one day retire.<br />
Yet from the day Carl had signed the paperwork with the bank, the home had been nothing short<br />
of a nightmare, plagued with every problem imaginable, including electrical issues, leaks, and the<br />
painful discovery that most of the walls had no insulation. A house built of paper that had sapped the<br />
family’s savings account of almost all its worth. “The Lemon,” as Carl called it, was just one more<br />
box of stress to pile on top of all the other stresses. Carl often found himself lying awake at night,<br />
staring up into the dark, the silence of suburbia screaming in the background, as he thought about his<br />
past, his future, and how he was going to recoup his losses from the home.<br />
Unlike most people who would ease their tension after a long day at the office by plopping on the<br />
couch, turning on the TV, and cracking open a beer, sober Carl had done the polar opposite. He would<br />
come home, a bald grown man with tattoos all over his body, and fluff pillows. He couldn’t help<br />
himself; the stress of work, the stress of the decaying house, the stress of where he was in life all led<br />
to a one-hour cleaning session before he could settle down for dinner. Sometimes he blamed this<br />
quirk on his self-diagnosed obsessive-compulsive disorder, but really he didn’t care what it was.<br />
Shaking a pillow in the air until all the feathers inside were evenly spaced was more calming than any<br />
beer could ever be.<br />
But in recent weeks, a change in the wind had made his stresses flit away. In fact, Carl—for the<br />
first time in as long as he could remember—was invigorated by life. He was born again. Baptized by<br />
the Silk Road.<br />
At first when he was assigned to the HSI Baltimore team to help with the case, Carl had been<br />
intrigued but nonchalant about the operation. It was an opportunity to work a different kind of case<br />
from the normal jump-out, but it wouldn’t change his solar-agent lifestyle. Then one of the agents from<br />
Baltimore had shown him how to download Tor and how to navigate the Silk Road forums, and Carl<br />
had become obsessed.