by Alex Howell
This was a revelation that came as a shock to Danae as she protested, “But what about due process? Don’t I get a trial? What about habeas corpus?”
The mention of which caused the man to laugh, “Habeaus corpus? Now that’s rich!”
The man then put the clipboard down and looked straight at Danae with a cold expression that sent a chill right down her spine. He then proceeded to inform her, “Look, you are in a black netherworld her ever since you signed on with the CIA. I don’t have to read you your rights, I don’t have to promise you an attorney—you have betrayed this country and we can do whatever we want with you.”
Danae fully knew that it was a tactic of the CIA to pretend it had powers that it did not in order to intimidate people. As such she realized that this guy could just be bluffing her in order to get some information before he turned her over to the real police and the court systems of the United States government. Nevertheless, she played along as best she could.
Danae took a deep breath, “Okay… even if what you say is true. Why do you have me here? What do you want from me?”
The man seemingly pleased to have a compliant subject, smiled, as he told her, “Very good Danae. You seem to be getting more and more reasonable by the minute.”
The man then paused and cleared his throat before he continued, “You see, it’s like this. Now that you have betrayed this country, the only way you can really redeem yourself is to betray those that had you betray us.”
Danae already had an idea of what the man was suggesting. She listened intently as the man spoke the words, “We want you to go back to Greece, hook up with your old colleagues there and still pretend to be spying on us—but in reality, you are going to be feeding us information about them the whole time.”
Danae gasped, “You want me to become a triple agent!”
The man nodded, “Well it sure as hell beats the alternative.”
Looking around at her dank surroundings in the CIA holding cell, it didn’t take Danae long to consider as she announced, “I accept.”
The man grinned, “I thought you would”.
He then handed her a pen and a piece of paper, telling her, “Just sign here—and here.”
Danae quickly did as she was instructed and handed the documents back to the espionage agent. The man then gave her a mock salute, and declared, “Very good! You will be shipping out tomorrow!”
Danae didn’t know what strange fate awaited her next, but it didn’t matter. She had lived an entire life built upon ever shifting sands. Wherever the wind took her next she was more than willing to go.
14
Finding A Way Through the Noise
As Clara Walker and her new partner Jason Holmes struggled through file after file, Clara couldn’t help but notice how often Jason seemed to steal a glance at her in between downloads. Normally she would be creeped out by such attention, especially so soon after she first met someone, but something about Jason’s personality seemed to set her at ease.
He was warm, sociable, and above anything else, he was funny. All attributes that Clara always craved in a partner—whether it was for work, romance, or just about any other given arrangement in life.
Jason Holmes himself was a bit surprised at how enamored he had become with Clara in such a short period of time. For him it really was love at first sight. Not only that, the deep sense of justice that Jason held, inspired him to make sure that he helped Clara clear her father’s name.
It was in this state of concerted unity to exonerate her father that Jason pulled up a transaction of phone records from Baltimore. Pulling up the data he announced, “Yes, according to this, someone right in the Baltimore area is consistently delivering intel to terrorist elements overseas.”
Clara not even wanting to entertain the thought of her father’s involvement issued the flat denial, “Well, whoever it is, it’s got nothing to do with my dad.”
Feeling sympathetic Jason assented, “Right…”
Before adding, “But whoever it is, the second we find them and prove their identity, we can get the heat off of your father.”
It was then that Jason asked, “Do you know anyone who is good at tracing calls?”
Clara knowing exactly who would fit that bill, immediately answered, “Yes…. Yes, I do.”
Jason answered enthusiastically, “Awesome! Is he a guy from the agency?”
To which Clara shook her head, “No—he used to do intelligence for a group of private contractors….”
Jason was mildly surprised, “Private contractors?”
Clara nodded, “Yeah—his name is Kyle Garrison.”
Kyle Garrison was busy cleaning up his apartment located on the upper West side of Baltimore. He had moved into the place shortly after the official disbanding of Onyx. Since then he had gotten a strait-laced job as a software architect for a medical device company in Baltimore. The job paid well enough for Kyle to take care of the bills and have plenty left over, but he still missed the excitement he used to derive from the cloak and dagger missions he was a part of with Onyx.
So, when Clara called him up to say that she needed his expertise, he jumped at the chance. Not only was Kyle still deeply charmed and infatuated by Mason’s daughter, he was eager to get back into the world of clandestine operations that her plaintive plea seemed to hint at. But one thing that he did not expect was Jason Holmes.
When Clara called Kyle up and told him about her problem, he expected Clara and Clara alone to arrive. But after he answered the pounding knock on his door he was in for a surprise. The first person he saw was the 6 foot 2, tall, and skinny Jason flashing an official looking badge in his face as he announced, “Jason Holmes with the CIA.”
Even though Kyle knew that Clara herself was a CIA agent now, he nevertheless found the wind taken right out of him by this surprise, quasi-official intrusion from a man he didn’t even know. It wasn’t until Clara nudged past Jason with the rebuke, “Oh come on Jason, we don’t have to flash badges around here, this my friend.”
Seeing Clara’s smiling face as she sauntered into his apartment, filled Kyle with a strange mixture of relief, gratefulness, expectation, and yet a small modicum of scorn. ‘Why didn’t she tell me she was bringing her guy friend with her?’ This, above all others was the main thought that dominated Kyle’s mind.
When Clara had called him up just a few moments prior she had indeed made no mention of bringing anyone with her and yet there Mr. tall and handsome; Jason Holmes was. Nevertheless, Kyle tried to make the best of it as he sat down at his desk positioned right by the front door and entreated his guests to join him.
Looking around Clara didn’t notice any furniture and asked Kyle as much, “Uh—where are we supposed to sit?”
Kyle realizing that he was bidding his company to sit down on thin air, chastised his typical absent-minded professor self and told them, “Oh I’m sorry, where are my manners?”
He then overturned two milk crates that had been full of miscellaneous wires and components—dumping them out onto the floor, and set the crates down near his desk as he cheerily chirped, “Here ya go!”
Jason looked down at the crates and then to Clara, as she rolled her eyes. Jason always a trooper shrugged, and sat down on the crate, his long legs folded up in front of him like a spider. This was an image that Clara knew she wouldn’t soon forget. Clara herself then took a seat. And as she sought to stabilize herself on the creaking crate, she asked Kyle, “Still no furniture in your new apartment huh?”
To which Kyle busily typing something into his laptop answered in the affirmative, “Still working on that!”
Clara then pulled out a flash drive, and announced, “Okay Kyle, here’s the deal...”
Kyle stopped typing and looked at Clara, eager to know what she was up to. Once she had Kyle’s full and undivided attention, she explained, “This flash drive contains phone records of a call placed from Baltimore to a known international terrorist cell. Can you trace it for us?”
Kyle taking the flash drive from Clara’s hand answered, “Is that all you need? Please… I could do this in my sleep.”
Kyle then popped the drive into his laptop and true to form, after just a few moments he locked onto the coordinates and was able to trace the call. As they stared at the screen, Kyle triumphantly revealed, “Alright, I got it! From where this call originated, this guy lives way out in the boonies, north of Baltimore.”
Clara asked, “The Boonies?”
Kyle nodded, “Yeah, to pinpoint it exactly, it looks like its coming from some kind of farm house type estate called, “Oakwood Farms”.
Jason a bit surprised, wondered out loud, “Oakwood Farms? Why does that sound familiar? It seemed like I knew someone that lived out somewhere like that….”
That’s when Kyle dropped the real bombshell, “Oh yeah? Well… Does the name Patrick McCafferty ring a bell?”
To which Jason replied, “Yes it does—he’s the guy who trained me.”
Kyle without a shred of tact, then let him have it, telling him, “Well congratulations chief, it looks like your former mentor has been busying himself with international terrorists over the last few months.”
Jason’s only response was to look at Clara and announce, “I think I need a drink…”
15
Getting Ready for Business
ABOUT AN HOUR LATER IN DOWNTOWN BALTIMORE
Clara, Jason and Kyle were all three seated at a corner table of a local Irish Pup called St. Elmo’s Fire. Clara had already duly noted that whenever Jason was stressed or stumped on a case his first impulse was to go to the bar. She never understood how booze could bring clarity to confusion, but her partner seemed to think that it could.
And as their server popped down a tray fully loaded with three pitchers of beers; he was the first to pour himself a glass. Staring at the abundance in front of them, Clara remarked, “Really? Three pitchers? Does that mean that there is a pitcher for each of us?”
To which Jason laughed, “Hell no… I might need two!”
Clara really was honestly getting concerned about Jason’s drinking habits, but she was also glad that his mood had been temporarily lifted. And for the time being, since all of her energy was focused on solving this case and clearing her father’s name, she was willing to let it go.
Pouring herself a small glass she asked Jason, “So this former instructor of yours… Go ahead and tell us a little bit more about him.”
Jason took a drink and sighed heavily, before answering, “His name is Patrick McCafferty and he has been with the agency for a number of years—decades in fact.”
Jason then added with another sigh, “He’s taught me everything that I know.”
Clara then asked, “Was he an espionage field agent?”
Jason nodded, “You better believe it.”
Jason then admitted, “But not only that, he was what the agency calls an active agitator. He was involved in the take down of despots all over the globe in the name of promoting American interests abroad.”
Kyle sipping on his glass of beer sarcastically quipped, “American imperialism at its best isn’t?”
A remark that Jason took slight offense to as he shot back, “Yeah right… I call it keeping the lifeblood of the best country on Earth pumping.”
Clara a little bit taken aback by Jason’s intensity, remarked, “Well you don’t have to get that dramatic.”
This slight chastisement was music to Kyle’s ears. And thinking that he was finally seeing some daylight between the pair, he tried to wedge himself into the conversation by announcing, “Best country on Earth? Please—I’ve seen better countries on Mars!”
Clara knew that Kyle was joking but that fact that he had spent his previous years working on black projects for the military space program, made his remarks seem remotely plausible.
But Jason realizing that Kyle was blowing smoke, countered with, “Have you ever even left this country Kyle?”
As knowledgeable as Kyle was, this was his Achilles heel, he had only really read about other parts of the world from afar and had never ventured there himself. While the other Onyx team members were out galivanting around across the globe, he was holed up in a room with his laptop communicating to them remotely.
He had never actually gone to see any of the places he had helped the Onyx team successfully navigate through. Kyle not wanting to admit as much however, offered back, “Sure—sure I have! I’ve been to plenty of other countries!”
Jason not quite believing him asked, “Like?”
To which Kyle quietly muttered, “Um… I went to comic con in Canada once.”
After hearing this Jason asked incredulously, “Canada?”
Kyle blushed as he attempted to drink down his inadequacy in another glass of beer. Clara wishing to save Kyle some measure of his pride, while getting the group back on topic, then switched gears and asked, “Anyway, this guy we’re tracking—let’s talk about him a minute….”
Jason cleared his throat, “Okay. Right… that’s why we are here.”
Kyle’s feelings were obviously hurt by the exchange, but he tried to put on a brave face, as he muttered, “Fair enough.”
Jason then continued, “Anyway… as I was saying…”
Jason then explained, “Patrick was one of the best, he knew how to get in good with terrorists, corrupt regimes, and other bad actors, to the point that they thought he was one of them.”
Jason made a twisting motion with his hands, “And then at the last moment he turned the screws and all hell would break loose.”
Clara asked, “What do you mean all hell would break loose?”
Jason nodded, “He would open the flood gates and revolution would happen.”
Jason then mentioned, “Clara you are probably too young to remember the Arab Spring of 2011, aren’t you?”
Clara shrugged, “Sort of… But I learned about it in school. That was when so-called democratic revolutions spread out all across the Middle East correct?”
Jason nodded, “Yes, Ma’am.”
The Arab Spring of 2011 was seen largely as a disaster and with the exception of Tunisia, all of the countries that overthrew their strongmen and dictators turned into horrendously bloody killing fields in which faction after faction fought for dominance.
The hopeless quagmire that formed had caused citizens of these beleaguered countries to cry for the return of their dictator rulers. Because even though they were stern and austere at least there was order—at least they knew what to expect. For many a strong-arm police state was preferable to the utter chaos that emerged in its stead.
Kyle was remarking as such when he scoffed at the thought, “The Arab Spring? That was a joke. Your guy Patrick was in on that?”
Jason nodded, “Yes he was…. He was working for the Barry O’Brian administration at the time. President O’Brian had been given special intel on popular movements spawned by social media.”
Jason took another drink before continuing, “It was this bit of intel that led O’Brian to make the call to use agitator’s such as Patrick to tighten up those screws.”
Clara asked, “And what happened?” Jason nodded, “He was right there in Egypt when the Spring called for the resignation of Libyan dictator Muammar Gaddafi, Patrick was installed right in Gaddafi’s palace as an English interpreter.”
Kyle nearly spitting the beer right out of his mouth exclaimed, “What? English interpreter? An American CIA agent at the palace of Colonel Gaddafi—with a gig as a run of the mill interpreter?”
Jason looked to Clara before laughing, “That’s right folks, do well on the English portion of your SAT’s and the CIA will have you pretending to be some 2-bit, underpaid language interpreter.”
Clara then asked, “So what happened?”
Jason cleared his throat, “Well at the time that the Arab Spring had erupted in 2011, being the eyes and ears on the ground for the O’Brian administration, he waited to receive word from the then
secretary of state, Mallory Linton…”
Clara thinking of the dinosaur politician from another age, rolled her eyes as she muttered, “Mallory Linton… Now that’s a real piece of work….”
Jason continued, “Anyway, Mallory gave the word to turn the screws on Gaddafi, so Patrick, the Colonel’s previously loyal aid, fed disinformation to Gaddafi’s personal entourage, warning that a U.S. led airstrike was imminent followed by thousands of angry revolutionaries from the Arab Spring storming his compound.”
Kyle asked incredulously, “And Gaddafi believed it? Just like that?”
Jason didn’t flinch as he answered, “Yes—yes, he did.”
Jason then took another sip of beer before explaining, “You have to understand, all of Gaddafi’s conventional means of communication had been cut off in the weeks leading up to this, and he had become virtual prisoner in his compound. His only source of news at this point was word of mouth, and much of this he depended on his foreign aids.”
Clara provided, “Such as Patrick, right?”
Jason nodded, “Right…”
Clara then asked, “So that’s why Gaddafi suddenly left his compound only to get waylaid by drone strikes and eventually cornered by a mob of his own angry citizens?”
Jason nodded, “That’s right. We can thank Patrick for that one.”
Kyle then interjected, “Alright—alright…. As much as I enjoy this trip down memory lane… Let’s get back to the present… Remind me again… how is all of this relevant.”
Jason sighed, “It’s really easy to see Kyle. Patrick has been in deep talks with all kinds of extreme entities and governments for most of his adult life.”
Patrick looking down at his beer, then continued, “He is a master spy in every sense of the word. So, it wouldn’t be surprising that he would have terrorist contacts.”