The Book of Hidden Truths

It was late on the dreary night of September 24th, past eleven o’clock, however likely before midnight. Eliza waited ambiguously, puzzled as to why Amari had wanted to meet down at the old boat dock they inhabited with imaginary scenery as children, furthermore, it was such a peculiar hour for a rendevous. It was far too late to do anything completely and entirely legal, moral, adequate, or something else that isn’t wholly viewed as ‘right’. Nonetheless, Eliza had known Amari to be her best friend for at minimum 20 years, they had only been three years old when Amari’s parents had moved to the country. Knowing her dearests friends’ past, she also knew it was too early in the evening if Amari had been planning something illegal, dangerous, or could potentially draw unnecessary amounts of attention, objectives among those standards were certainly handled after the clock would strike midnight. This left Eliza with one conclusion, information. She would be receiving a great deal of intelligence of some kind from Amari, but how was she to know what it was or what it was about? 

Amari was the brains of the duo, a Navy scientist, continually contracted out to work partnerships with NASA. She was incredibly vital to an upcoming experiment that would allow the United States Navy the capability to let soldiers breathe underwater without lagging around the heavy oxygen tanks. Her idea originated from her fiance, a decorated Navy Seal, who had been amongst the crew of the USS Elanore, a submarine destroyed by enemy fire in the Pacific. Every member of the crew on board was killed during the attack, and only ⅓ of the bodies were ever recovered, Amari’s fiance was not one of them. During a federal investigation, it had been determined that if the crew could’ve accessed their oxygen tanks and dive equipment faster, at least some of them would have more than likely had the capability to swim to the surface. Amari took all of her anger, hurt, knowledge, and passion, and used it to create a tiny mouthpiece that slides directly between the teeth and two small plugs sticking out of the front to slide into your nostrils. This device was capable of sustaining human life underwater for as long as needed. The small filter inside allows you to breathe in ocean water both through the mouth and the nose and filters the oxygen molecules from the water molecule as fish do with their gills. This would not only allow soldiers the ability to get to the surface but also to hide underwater if the surface was not safe. Amari strongly believed that if every crewmate aboard the USS Elanore had had one of her devices neatly tucked in their pockets, every individual on the vessel would have survived. 

Eliza was the communications specialist of the duo, or at least that was one way to put it. She was a marketing analyst for a large athletic ware company and had begun to start modeling for the company as well. She stood at five foot seven, with her luxurious blonde curls flowing down her back. Her dark skin hinted at Italian or perhaps Hungarian, but no one ever believed that her grandparents had originated from Israel, although sometimes Eliza hadn’t believed it herself. Her grandparents had always been so secretive about their lives in Israel, both before meeting one another and after. They had been the parents to Eliza’s father, a young American-Jewish man, who was presumed to have committed suicide just three weeks before Eliza was born. Raised by her single mother, a Canadian woman by the name of Rosalie, they had always lived in a small town in the rainy state of Washington. Eliza never knew how her parents met, nor did she know anything about her mother’s life before she was born, any time her father was mentioned her mothers’ mood grew rather dismayed. Eliza had always speculated that her father hadn’t committed suicide, with her first clue being that her mother had always been almost unwilling to accept it, as if she rather hide a horrible truth. Her second clue was the fact that after 15 years all court cases in her county became a matter of public record, and at the mere age of 16 years old, Eliza had been able to pull the police reports from the scene of her father’s death. There had been a single witness, a young woman camping in the wooded area off Route 57 when he had stumbled on into the woods. Her witness statement accounted that she wasn’t entirely sure if he had been stumbling because he was drunk or hurt, nevertheless, she refused to get any closer knowing the situation could end poorly for her. Continuing down to the autopsy report, there were suggestions he had been in some kind of brawl within 48 hours pre-death. The young woman claimed to have watched him point a gun at his face and pull the trigger, however by the time she contacted 911 and emergency responders arrived on scene, the weapon was gone. Autopsy had concluded the weapon used was a .45 caliber, the bullet had traveled directly through the frontal lobe damaging his cognitive ability immediately. The witness never saw or heard anyone else that night, but after she had watched such a tragic scene she had retreated to her tent until authorities arrived. However, the weapon was never found. Within the report, it had stated that for a short 20 minutes, the witness had been the number one suspect in a murder investigation, until they searched her belongings and found no traces of the .45. Eventually, the case death was ruled a suicide, and the explanation to the missing weapon aligned with perhaps a wild animal had grabbed it and run off or nature had damaged/destroyed the evidence. Since the day she read that report, Eliza could never believe her father truly killed himself. 

Although both girls had been each other’s best friends since such an incredibly young age of 3, Eliza and Amari knew quite little about one another’s personal lives. Amari hadn’t ever known why Eliza didn’t have a dad, it was one of those things she knew better than to attempt to discuss. It was normal for Amari to find only Eliza and Rosalie in every family picture. Similarly, Eliza had never known Amari was engaged, much less that her fiance had died aboard a United States Navy Submarine. Somehow, they had found keeping these gruesome personal details out of their friendship always allowed them to be one another healthy and happy outlet after a rather stressful or upsetting day. Therefore, the idea that Amari had wanted to meet with Eliza during the night, with classified information, meant this was going to be life or death. 

Eliza waited just a short while longer until she saw the gleaming headlights of Amari’s 1994 Chevrolet Corvette. Amari was not just a brilliant and powerful woman, but a stylish one too. She slowly pulled the luxurious car into a secluded section of the small parking area, turned off the ignition, and slowly climbed from the car. As she approached Eliza she looked around suspiciously, as to ensure nobody else would be present for their secret meeting. Eliza gave a slight wave to assure Amari she was ready to discuss whatever the matter was. “My dearest friend, this is dire, oh so dire. I mean this couldn’t be kept from you, simply couldn’t. It’s one of those things you stumble upon whilst wrapped up in the job. Oh sure it’s classified, but when I say you need to know Eliza, dear you NEED TO KNOW.” Amari was speaking a million miles a minute, clearly nervous. “Well dear, you mustn’t tell me if it’s classified. I mean they would fire you, they could arrest you. Your literal job is to keep your mouth shut Amari, you’ve had to of gone mad. There is nothing you could have found that would be important enough for me to allow you to break an oath to the country for crying out loud.” Amari took a brief pause, and a long, slow breath before speaking again, “I was looking into some old case files on the pressurized oxygen experiment back in the fifties, you know to compare how far technology has come, well I found some documents that seemed a little off. I looked further into it, and the intelligence and technology had been stolen from an absolutely genius Soviet scientist. Adaam Hianough had worked on pressurized oxygen in bombs and various other weapons of mass destruction. However, it was noted that he had been killed in a British car bomb in the eighties.” Amari was radiating with energy at this point, she just couldn’t wait to get around to actual relevant information, and Eliza was losing her patience by the second. “You are breaking federal laws to tell me a cool story about the Soviet Union? Oh yeah, you’ve certainly gone mad my old friend.” Eliza began to take a small step away when Amari pulled an old leather notebook from her long red trench coat, “This diary, it belonged to Adaam Hianough. The United States found it when infiltrating a Soviet lab in ‘91, they decided to take it so no one else could use the brilliant man’s secrets. Here’s the scary part Eliza, there are pictures of your grandmother from when she was young, and I think the man in the Soviet uniform throughout the book is a much younger version of your grandfather.” Amari had rambled all of the information so quickly that Eliza needed several moments to process the facts being spewed to her. She knew in a moment this must be preposterous, Amari had surely known Eliza’s grandparents growing up, and they had more than once made up stories about why they were so secretive about their life in Israel as children, but those stories were only a childish fantasy. 

Eliza slowly extended her left hand to grab the old, torn-up leather book from Amari’s clutches, “I know they may seem suspicious, but you cannot possibly believe that my grandfather was a top general in the Soviet army, I mean he’s the kindest person we’ve ever met. You remember when we were kids, he always walked us down the ice cream parlor at the end of the road, always ensuring to take you with us because he knew you didn’t have a grandfather. You think a Soviet general would adopt a grandchild and take them to the ice cream shop?” Eliza’s voice had trailed into a more passive-aggressive tone towards the end of her objection. She snagged the small book from Amari’s tiny hands and opened the first page. Adaam Hianough, 24-3-1948. The letters on the cover page of the book nearly haunted Eliza in an instant, her hands began to tremble and her breath was gone with the wind of the nearby sea. “I-I-I, this must be wrong. I mean, this is just a big misunderstanding. I mean this handwriting, it appears just alike the small notes he would leave for me as a child. He left them all around the house, in my lunch pail, my backpack, and inside my shoes. They always had adorable little phrases written on them ‘You’re the most beautiful girl in the world’, ‘You make everyone’s day brighter’, and ‘A girl like you will do spectacular things’. They always made me feel loved and safe, regardless of where I was. This handwriting in itself was home.” Eliza turned another page and gasped aloud, this time nearly dropping the journal with her dismay. “That’s him, that’s what he looked like the day they married Amari.” Eliza was now certain this was her grandfather’s journal, meaning he was a brilliant Soviet scientist whose greatest project was stolen by the Americans. Both women started spitballing ideas as they continued thinking on the subject further, “Your grandparents were probably never from Israel, that was probably entirely a cover story.” Eliza briefly nodded and then added, “Did they ever live in Canada?” Eliza continued to ponder what facts of her own life were true, and what had been a cover, given to her at such a young age she couldn’t recall the truth. 

“We need to get down to why I think you should have this, well other than the obvious.” Amari’s voice grew low and subtle once again, “Now, I spent all day trying to translate his words here, but there was a plan of revenge towards the Americans and regaining access to the weaponry he designed. No offense to Gramps, but I think he’s gotten a little old to take on the U.S. military, nonetheless, there is detailed information as to how to execute his plan if someone else were to find it. This could be extremely dangerous if fallen into the wrong hands, the original weaponry has been in archives for years, but he knew exactly where it was being kept.” Eliza pondered this information a bit further and thought of the many ways she could use this. She briefly conjured the chances of her father’s mysterious suicide and decided that was an idea to be pondered another time. As for what she had just learned within the crinkling pages of this old notebook, Eliza knew she had only three options moving on for her. She knew the correct thing would be to turn the diary back in to the government and ensure nobody gets their hand on those plans. Secondly, she could confront her grandparents, and ask her grandfather for an explanation behind the diary. She could determine if he intended his plan to be set into motion. Lastly, she could always follow the plan, and take back what rightfully belonged to her grandfather. After all, the Americans did steal it from him.