The Lost Order (Cotton Malone, #12)

by Steve Berry

sight given Joseph Henry’s somber reputation as one of America’s leading scientists, not to mention the man’s prestigious title. Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. He was sitting in Henry’s chilly office on a comfortable leather couch, their business nearly concluded. He’d made the appointment

to be in its waning days. Everything had changed since Gettysburg. Over 250,000 Confederate soldiers lay dead. Another 250,000 languished in Federal prisoner-of-war camps, and 125,000 more were crippled and wounded. Where before a Southern victory had seemed possible, it appeared now that the high tide of the Confederacy had finally run

arrival. Entering the northern capital had not been easy. Forts ringed the Federal district. Troops were encamped everywhere. Security had grown tight. Access in and out came with questions and restrictions. Luckily he possessed the necessary credentials to come and go, which was why he’d been chosen for this mission. The noise came again. Then, again. “It could be ice,” Henry said. “But it’s not.” His host rose

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