Camouflage and Deception
James’s father had loaded up his old Ford F150 pickup to the brim. It appeared as though they were embarking on an extended camping and fishing trip, an orchestrated chaos of boxes, bags, folders, tackle boxes, and coolers.
The ginseng box could easily be concealed amid the disarray. But father and son remained three hours apart. Subconsciously, James’s father clutched his chest – he hadn’t felt this piercing sensation since his heart attack.