May 2020 BCE
Dallas, TX USA
Josh sunk back into the warmth and repose of his deep brown office chair. It was the one comfort he had insisted upon and it certainly seemed out of place in his moderate, Spartan office.
The room was a narrow rectangle with the door at one end and Josh's desk at the other. A few dingy filing cabinets rested atop the 25 year old grey tiles which contrasted the freshly painted brick walls. The off-white walls boasted only of a few handwritten letters, cheapily framed, yet carefully hung. All in all, the shabby office seemed a carefully concocted ruse which existed to belie the millions that the church received and redistributed. He couldn't read them from here, but the framed letters he had all but memorized. "The Most Reverend Joshua R. Brown, Bishop of Dallas, and the New Hope Catholic Church, Thank you for your donation. Your continued support..."
There were several from orphanages and a variety of other non-profit organizations, but they all echoed the same sentiments. It was those letters that had inspired him to keep pressing on despite the usual drama and paperwork involved in the upkeep of a church.
Josh gave a deep sigh as he sat upright and began combing through the litany of documents that covered his desk. His phone gave a familiar chirp and Josh looked to see his newly arrived emails. They were mostly spam per usual, some notifications from Amazon.com, a monthly meeting reminder from Opus Dei, and-
Josh could hardly believe it. After 4 years of nothing but silence, there was a personal message from Paul.
"Josh, if you are receiving this message, something has gone wrong with my most recent operation. I always leave a email pending and remove it it when i get back. I will have been missing 2 weeks since my scheduled operation date, i've included the gps coordinates and all the details regarding what i was doing with this email. The security on this email should take at least 9 months for any team of experts to crack. (Remind me to thank your brother for his help with that).
Thank you,
Paul"
Josh sat in his chair, letting the words wash over him one more time. He hadn't seen Paul since... Manitoba. Well, Brent would want to know. Realistically, Josh would need Brent's help to unravel what had happened.
He dialed Brent's number and skimmed over the email one more time. Where were those coordinates pointing to? Need to look that up on google, Josh thought as the ringing stopped and a familiar voice said hello.
"Brent, this is Josh, do you have a minute?"
"Anything for you, your imminent popeliness. Another orphanage on the brink of financial ruin?"
"No. Unfortunately i've got something much more urgent and important. It's Paul. He's contacted me. I can't discuss this over the phone."
"Wow. That's a bit surprising. Okay. Let me make arrangements with my pilot. I can probably meet with you in about 5 hours."
"Sounds perfect. Meet me at 7 pm at White Rock Café."
"Sure thing, your sanctimonious holiness."
Josh chuckled to himself as he hung up the phone. All these ridiculous titles. It might be a while before he laughed like that again. For someone to have gotten to Paul, it would've taken an enormous amount of manpower and would've been a extremely costly venture... this would be a grim search indeed.
