by E. Clay
Chapter 34
“You Have One New Message”
Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton, Ca
Six years later...
I reenlisted in the Marine Corps one year after Mogadishu and four months later, I had completed my counterintelligence training at the Navy Marine Intelligence Training Center in Dam Neck, Virginia.
My first assignment in counterintelligence was the 13th Counterintelligence Team at 29 Palms. I was a member of the 13th CIT from 1994 until 1996. In 1996, I accepted orders to Camp Pendleton, California.
That year, the CI community had a major facelift and all the teams were disbanded in favor of a HUMINT Company made up of detachments. When I arrived at Camp Pendleton, I was assigned to the 1st Surveillance and Reconnaissance Intelligence Group.
The old familiar faces had moved on; Major Haycock accepted orders to Headquarters Marine Corps, HUMINT Support Detachment; Master Gunnery Sergeant Pritchard retired; and Gator was in Okinawa, Japan. Eric finally got orders to Albany, Georgia so that he could be closer to his daughter Stephanie (with Tootie). Eric and Tootie’s relationship lasted less than a year after Mogadishu.
Crocket separated from the Marines in 1994 and relocated to North Carolina. Crocket’s family and I became close over the years. Even though Crocket was now a civilian, she and her daughter Jessica never stopped calling me Gunny T.
My relationship with Melody was strained because we only saw each other twice a month because of the driving distance between us. Despite the slight upheaval and all the joy that accompanies change, I adjusted fairly well. My duty assignment was Surveillance Instructor for Special Operations Training Group and I enjoyed the challenge working with Force Reconnaissance.
At the end of July 1999, a series of events would lead me down a road of serious introspection. In mid-July, I was selected to attend the Navy Mid-level Intelligence Officer's Course at Dam Neck, Virginia the following month. Resident counterintelligence specialists told me how fortunate I was because Dr. Louis Johnson Jr. would be a guest speaker for that seminar. At that time, I was more concerned about preparing myself for retirement than going on another TAD (temporary assigned duty). Just before lunch, I was told that I had a visitor in the main conference room. When I walked into the room, I saw a middle-aged civilian dressed in a dark grey suit and a stack of paperwork on the conference table. He introduced himself.
“Hello, I am Mark Mueller from the Defense Investigative Service. I would like to ask you a few questions regarding Mr. Timothy Lewis. Do you know who he is?” asked the agent as he displayed his credentials.
“Yes. You mean Major Lewis,” I responded.
“Major Lewis retired from the Marines. He is now a civilian and I am here to finalize his five year bring up (investigation). You are listed as a character reference.”
“Are you serious? I am absolutely sure that Major Lewis did not list me as a character reference; we didn't have the best working relationship.”
“On his application, he listed Somalia as a tour of duty. He listed someone else as a character reference, and that reference gave us your name.”
How ironic. I am positive Major Lewis would have treated me better if he had known that one day I would be in a position to affect his security clearance.
“I have several questions for you that will help us determine if Mr. Lewis is suitable to remain in a position of trust and responsibility with the U.S. government.”
Just the mention of Major Lewis' name was enough to cause me some anxiety. That was a bad time for me and it took me a while to put it behind me. I started to have flashbacks from Mogadishu, especially when he recommended that I be court martialed. My angst turned into resentment and anger. I remembered when he denied my application into counterintelligence. I also thought about when he directed me to give divorce papers to a Marine whose wife was dying. I relived those memories in 3-D and in Technicolor. It was payback time and I relished the opportunity.
At the conclusion of the agent’s interview, he had one last question.
“Do you recommend Timothy Lewis for a position of trust and responsibility with the U.S. government?”
I paused for a moment before I answered.
“Absolutely.”
Although Major Lewis was a terrible Officer-in Charge, I trusted him with information relating to our country's national security. There was no doubt about that.
The agent collected his papers, shook my hand and thanked me for my time. During the drive home, I reflected on the interview regarding Major Lewis’ security clearance. I was battling some residual regret for giving him a pass. I knew I did the right thing, despite my mixed emotions.
As I walked into my home, I noticed my answering machine flashing, so I retrieved my messages.
“You have one new message. Message one.”
“Hi Clay, it's me Ayan. I hope you still remember me. I will be in your area soon visiting my brother. I would love to see you again and for you to meet my family. Call me. Bye.”
I played the message almost a dozen times. Ayan’s voice knocked the wind out of me, but in a good way.
It had been over six years since we last spoke and I wondered if she still looked the same as I remembered.
My son instantly recognized how over-excited I was and asked who left the message.
I wanted to say “Your next step-mom,” but that would have been too presumptuous. I had already planned to drive to 29 Palms to see Melody that night. I knew I needed to break things off with her before I saw Ayan. I felt emotionally stuck with Melody. I was unhappy enough to contemplate breaking up with her, but not miserable enough to follow through with it. I was actually okay with knowing that she couldn’t make me happy, but it was a major problem when she depressed me. But I now had sufficient motivation to make a clean break and be with someone I had deep feelings for.
As strong as my motivation was to break it off with Melody, I did not have the courage to go through with it in the end. As soon as I arrived at her front door, she gave me a big hug and kiss and told me she hired a sitter for the weekend. She surprised me with tickets to see Luther Vandross and Oleta Adams in concert the following day.
I needed more encouragement from Ayan to get me over the hump. I called Ayan that Monday after work knowing that all I needed was to hear her voice to give me strength. I dialed her number and felt anxious as the phone rang in my ear. She answered.
“Hello.”
“Hi Ayan, it's me Clay. I am so glad that you finally got in touch with me. How have you been?”
“Clay. I told you I would call you one day. I can't wait to see you.”
“When are you flying in?”
“We’re flying in on 5 August. Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No,” I lied.
“Ahh, what a shame.”
“Why is that a shame?”
“Because I wanted all of us to hang out together.”
“All of us? What do you mean?”
“Me, my husband and you. If you had a lady friend, I was going to ask you to bring her along. I guess it will be just the three of us then.”
Not a chance. No way Jose, I thought to myself. I could not bear sitting across from Ayan and her husband, knowing deep inside I wanted her. Also, I knew my feelings for her were too strong to conceal.
Since Friday, my life had been on a constant emotional rollercoaster. I wanted to get off. I just wanted stability. I told Ayan that I regrettably would be away on a conference in Virginia. After I got over my initial shock of misreading Ayan's intentions, we had a heart-to-heart talk that may have been inappropriate for a married woman. But the cards were already on the table. She read my most intimate thoughts about her in my journal.
At the end of our long emotional conversation, she confessed that although she cleaved to another man, a part of her heart belonged to me. She blew me a kiss on the phone. She said she missed me and that she would never forget me. As fate would have it, we didn't speak again after that. I
would always remember Ayan and the fond memories we shared in Mogadishu.
Chapter 35
“Class 6-99 Dismissed”
Navy and Marine Corps Intelligence Center, Dam Neck, Virginia
6 August 1999
Dr. Johnson began walking to the front of the class and grasped the certificates on the podium with his free hand.
“Today I pass the torch to you. Just tell me one thing. Class 6-99…Do you have it?” Dr. Johnson bellowed from the podium.
“Sir! YES SIR!” the class responded in unison. “After thirty-five years in the game, I stand relieved of my watch.”
When he concluded his presentation, he was given one of the longest standing ovations I had ever witnessed and it was deafening. As I stood to applaud, a wave of emotion came over me. I quickly reached for my prescription sunglasses to conceal my unexplained response. I was emotional because I knew this man; he was a friend, more than a friend. I knew him from a long time ago, in a distant place, under a covered identity on behalf of the U.S. government.
Operation Restore Hope Gallery
Glossary of Terms
Ayan: (pronounced; EYE-AN)
CI: Counterintelligence
Newbies: Slang for New Troops
Cot: Military folding bed
Chow: Food
Staff NCO: Staff Sergeant and above
Popping Smoke: Slang for leaving area
Leatherneck: Slang for Marine
Chevrons: Rank worn on collar
SMEAC: A format for reporting
Billeted: Housed
Chain of Command: Military Protocol
Adjudication: Decision
OJT: On the Job Trainee
Pocket Litter: Incriminating evidence
Dedication
This book is dedicated to all the US Service members who lost their lives in support of Humanitarian relief operations in Somalia from 1992-1993.
(Operation Restore Hope/Continued Hope) PFC Domingo Arroyo
PFC Mathew Anderson
Staff Sgt. Brian P. Barnes
LCPL Anthony Botello
CW2 Donovan Briley
SSGT Daniel Busch
CPL James Cavaco
SSGT William Cleveland, Jr
PVT David Conner
Tech. Sgt. Robert L. Daniel
SFC Robert Deeks
Master Sgt. Roy S. Duncan
Staff Sgt. William C. Eyler
SGT Thomas Field
SFC Earl Fillmore, Jr
W4 Raymond Frank
MSGT Gary Gordon
SPC Mark Gutting
PVT Daniel Harris
SGT. Justin A. Harris
PVT Daniel L. Harris
Author’s Comments
I would like to express my appreciation for the support of the 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit during Operation Restore Hope. Your reputation in Somalia provided me with inspiration while writing this book.
I would also like to thank Lieutenant General (ret) Frank E. Peterson, the first African American General in the U.S. Marines. His perseverance and esprit de corps throughout his life motivated me while he was my Commanding General at 1st Marine Aircraft Wing in Okinawa, Japan, and now as an author.
About the Author
The author served twenty-one years in the US Marine Corps, from 1979 until 2000. From 9 December 1992 to 21 March 1993, he supported Operation Restore Hope in Somalia. What initially started out as a humanitarian relief effort rapidly escalated to a low intensity conflict. The novel Insider Threat is a fictional account based on real experiences.
The manuscript for Insider Threat began on 21 July 2012. It was completed on 2 November 2012.
Prior to the publication of Insider Threat, the author reached out to a veteran of Operation Restore Hope, an architect of the intelligence effort. His words are the foreword to this book.