Philip loved to write, and he was unusually good at it too. As a freelance journalist, he wrote stories for regional magazines specializing in tourism articles and history updates and even tackled some agricultural subjects; there are a lot of orange and potato farmers in the St. Augustine area. Almost five years ago now, Philip had moved to town thinking that he had found the perfect place to write. There were plenty of coá´€ee houses where you could sit and stew (or should I say brew), and when you needed exercise, you could ride a bike along the inlets and beaches to gather your journalistic thoughts.
As Philip sat there sipping his still hot brew, he thought about how drastically his life had changed in the previous months. Little did he know when he moved to St. Augustine that his usually tame freelance writing career would soon be turned on its ear because he accidentally learned too much about the under workings of our government and its secret spy activities. Philip possessed the sharp observation skills that an accomplished journalist needs, and he also had a secret weapon: a rare gift in which his dreams each night would often give him bits of true information that most people wouldn't or couldn't know. Between his gift and his daily morning coffee conversations with the Coffee Club (Philip and several illusive operative friends), he stumbled upon more and more classified knowledge of the CIA's secret local operationsAs Philip sat there sipping his still hot brew, he thought about how drastically his life had changed in the previous months. Little did he know when he moved to St. Augustine that his usually tame freelance writing career would soon be turned on its ear because he accidentally learned too much about the under workings of our government and its secret spy activities. Philip possessed the sharp observation skills that an accomplished journalist needs, and he also had a secret weapon: a rare gift in which his dreams each night would often give him bits of true information that most people wouldn't or couldn't know. Between his gift and his daily morning coffee conversations with the Coffee Club (Philip and several illusive operative friends), he stumbled upon more and more classified knowledge of the CIA's secret local operations.
As a result, Philip was soon thought by the local station chief to "know too much." And when you know too much, you become a problem, and the intelligence community has their clandestine ways of dealing with problems!
