Traitors Within

by James Rosone

  For nearly twenty years, this proved to be a very fruitful relationship for all parties. Goldman Sachs made a fortune investing in the Middle East, and the UAE sovereign wealth fund became one of the largest private funds in the world. The UAE was also one of Goldman’s largest clients. Maktoum’s GSI also garnered an enormous amount of wealth, and with wealth came power.

  The Knights of Islam met quarterly to discuss the direction of the GSI and their organization. They were always looking for ways to integrate Islam into Western democracies and influence legislation wherever possible. As GSI’s investment fund grew, largely based on insider information, they also began to invest heavily in education, believing that the schooling system was the best way to influence future generations. Their investments largely centered around the Middle East, North Africa and Europe. Through various Islamic charity organizations, they helped to establish thousands of Islamic centers across Europe and slowly in the United States. This was their way of spreading Islam, through peace and education—at least until the 1991 Persian Gulf War.

  Following that conflict, Sheikh Maktoum and the leadership of the Knights agreed that Saudi Arabia should have relied on the Mujahedeen to defend the kingdom, not the godless Americans. This was a sentiment widely held by those living in the Gulf States, who now saw the Americans establishing permanent bases in their countries, bringing their immoral culture, religion and influence on the youth of their nations. Yet they tolerated the Americans because they also provided a bulwark against what they saw as a defiant Persian government, one that was actively working against the Sunni governments of the Middle East.

  It was during a seminal moment at one of their annual leadership meetings that the direction of the organization forever changed. In 1992, they were joined by a relatively unknown but charismatic Saudi cleric, a man named Osama bin Laden.

  “I was trained by the American CIA during the 1980s to be a Mujahedeen fighter in Afghanistan when the Soviet Union invaded,” Osama began. “Now I have used those skills to form a new organization named Al Qaeda. I have been blessed by Allah with a large and active network of former Mujahedeen fighters, all of whom can be relied upon to defend Islam.”

  Sheikh Maktoum was intrigued but unsure of the greater picture. “How do you see our organization partnering with you?” he inquired.

  Bin Laden replied, “Well, since you ask, I need money to accomplish our goals. I also need a means to move money from one location to another without the West—particularly the Americans—tracking the movement of the funds.”

  The men discussed the situation at length and eventually agreed that GSI would provide some funding and facilitate the creation of various front companies to hide the movement of money. However, they agreed that a go-between would be necessary, and that GSI and the Knights of Islam should never meet directly with Osama bin Laden again.

  Prince Nawaf bin Abdullah was a rising star in the Al-Mabahith Al-‘Amma, the Saudi version of the American FBI and CIA. He arranged for a spy within the Al-Mabahith Al-‘Amma to act as their official go-between. While Sheikh Maktoum and the other leaders of the Knights agreed that they couldn’t publicly support this new organization, they would invest in them financially, just like they would any other business. From that point forward, they became a secret financial backer of Al Qaeda and its many affiliates.

  As the Knights of Islam began to look for ways to leverage their wealth to advance Islam around the globe, they also sought to increase their influence in America and Europe. They learned to use Western laws to help support their cause. In the early ‘90s, the group financed the creation of the Center for Advancing Global Islamic Relations or CAGIR, which officially opened for operations in 1994. They also acquired several other organizations in the US and Europe and began to use those entities to make substantial political donations to candidates who would push their agenda. Over the next six years, CAGIR and their other proxies began to donate tens of millions of dollars in the US to both Republican and Democratic candidates, who in turn pushed for laws and agendas that benefited Islam and their corporate positions.

  Then, in 1999, as Osama bin Laden’s plot to destroy the World Trade Center in America took shape, Sheikh Maktoum began to move money into specific defense stocks and antiterrorism technologies. Knowing that an impending attack was going to happen, they were able to position nearly $6.3 billion to capitalize on what they knew would surely be a shock to the markets.

  When the attacks on September 11, 2001, happened, GSI had shorted all the airline stocks, generating a 5300% profit and turning sixty million dollars into over $3,250,000,000 overnight. GSI was now flush with cash, which they used to purchase defense stocks and other staple stocks that would generate long-term cash flow. Their investment in Al Qaeda would eventually lead them to turn a seven-billion-dollar investment firm into a portfolio of nearly twenty billion dollars, all in the short span of five years.

  Chapter 5

  New Boss, New Mission

  McClean, Virginia

  Central Intelligence Agency

  Following his successful posting in Turkey, Michael Stone was recalled to Langley. He’d spent the last five years living abroad, and his mentor and supervisor felt it was time for him to fulfill his obligatory tour at the flagpole. He’d spent the last six years hunting down terrorists as a paramilitary operations officer, and he’d loved every minute of it. However, his mentor and supervisor, Trevor Cole, saw something in him—a bright future in senior management.

  Trevor was ambitious to become the next director of the CIA, but in order to get there, he’d have to build out his own trusted cadre within the leadership. He had made it a mission to find and groom exceptional operators and then position them to advance through the ranks of the Agency to help transform it from within.

  Trevor needed people who had immense operational experience in the field if they were going to replace the bureaucratic deadweight of the seventh floor, but Mike would never be considered for those positions if he didn’t agree to some stateside assignments at headquarters or at least an interagency posting. His successes in the field would only get him so far. Now he needed to learn how to network his way into the more powerful positions where his expertise could truly be leveraged for the good of the Agency.

  As he began his reintegration to life in the United States, Mike quickly found that he was a virtual stranger to his own country and to the normality of American life. The thought of going to work at a nine-to-five job and then hitting up the gym and the grocery store over and over was a bit overwhelming for him after an action-packed adrenaline-filled schedule that was never the same from day-to-day.

  To try and compensate for what he knew was going to be a rough transition, Mike and his mentor decided it would be best for him to take a month off when he got back to the States. He wanted to travel across the country, see old friends, and spend some time with family, something he had neglected while living abroad. That connection to other human beings was just what he needed to reset mentally for his next assignment.

  Despite the good that his time with family and friends did for his soul, the slowing of pace made Mike acutely aware of the giant hole that still lurked in his life. During his time in Turkey and elsewhere in the Middle East, he hadn’t had the time to really develop any romantic relationships—his emotions were still a little raw from the loss of his daughter and his subsequent divorce. Despite both tragedies having taken place more than a decade earlier, he had never emotionally recovered the simultaneous losses. Instead, he poured everything he had into his work and allowed it to fully consume him.

  *******

  Once he’d returned to D.C., it was time for Mike to meet with Trevor at Langley to talk over his next assignment. On the way to his 0900 meeting, he stopped at Starbucks to make sure he was properly caffeinated. Ever since their first mission in South America, Trevor had taken a liking to him. Trevor’s son had been a part of the Army Ranger unit that had been stationed in Mogadishu, Somalia,
during what has commonly been referred to as the “Blackhawk Down” mission, and he had died that fateful day. For some odd reason, Mike reminded him of his son as he had also come to the Agency from a Special Forces background.

  Approaching Trevor’s door, Mike knocked twice on the frame, announcing his presence.

  His boss’s face lit up with a smile when he saw him. “Come on in, Mike,” he beckoned, waving him to a chair. “It’s good to see you. How’d the time off go?”

  “Well, you were right,” Mike began. “I needed the time to unwind. It was nice to see my parents. I should’ve tried to see them more these past few years. My dad has really aged—I guess it kind of caught me off guard. You know, you always believe that they’ll be there, when in reality, none of us really know how long we have.”

  Trevor nodded. “That’s true, Mike. I’m glad you were able to spend some time with your parents,” he said. Pausing for a second, Trevor pulled a bronze coin out of his pocket and held it up. “How are you holding out in regard to this?”

  Mike snorted at the question and shook his head. In addition to being his supervisor, Trevor was also his AA sponsor. The sight of his twenty-year sobriety coin brought back a flood of memories.

  A couple years after joining the Agency, Mike had been out on a mission and out of contact with his family when his daughter had suddenly become very ill. Her bone marrow had shut down, and she had been in desperate need of a transplant. Unfortunately, his wife and other family members were not a match, and her aplastic anemia had been so advanced that without a donor, she’d died before Mike had even returned from his mission. His wife had been torn with grief and hadn’t been shy about blaming Mike for not being there. She always wondered if their daughter would have survived if he had been home. Maybe he would have been a match.

  After the tragic loss of his daughter, Mike blamed himself and quickly became a functional alcoholic to cope with the pain. That was the last straw for his ex-wife, who split up with him shortly afterwards.

  Despite the dissolution of his marriage, Mike had managed to hide his dirty secret at work until one day when he and Trevor were on assignment together in South America. The timeframe that he and Trevor were supposed to meet up with an asset got moved up by fifteen hours, and when Trevor saw him, he quickly ascertained that while he wasn’t outright drunk, he was definitely buzzed.

  The following day, Trevor sat him down. “Look, I’m going to give you two choices,” he’d said. “Either join AA and I’ll be your sponsor, or I’ll see to it that you never finish your probation period with the Agency.”

  Mike hadn’t said anything at first. He was a bit stunned to be called out, and shocked that Trevor was a part of AA.

  “Mike, I see what you’re going through. After my son died, I took it pretty hard too. I also turned to the drink, and it nearly cost me my own career. A man I respected gave me the same option—join AA or he’d make sure I washed out. It saved my life. I’d like to think you’re worth saving, too.”

  Mike recognized that he needed help, and despite any misgivings he’d had, he’d joined the program and worked the steps. It had been a long journey.

  Mike sighed as he finished his daydream of memories. “I’m still sober, if that’s what you’re asking, Trevor. It’s been tough, and man do I crave it at times, but I’ve stayed on the path. Not a single drink since I started the program. Scout’s honor,” he added, holding up two fingers with a grin on his face.

  Trevor snickered. “I can see you’ve picked up smoking instead,” he retorted.

  “Come on, Trevor. You can’t expect me to give up one vice without picking up another. Besides, it’s my coping mechanism. When I feel the urge to drink, I reach for a cigarette instead. It’s kept me from breaking sobriety on many occasions, and it still allows me to hang out with the teams.”

  “Fair enough,” Trevor replied. “Speaking of the teams—you think you’re going to be able to handle a job that doesn’t directly involve killing people? If you can’t, I need to know. This is a red-hot position I’ve managed to get you, but I can’t have you screwing it up for me. I’m putting my neck on the line to get you this position,” Trevor said. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.

  Sensing the change in tenor, Mike didn’t hesitate. “I’m ready for this. The fieldwork has been the most thrilling thing I’ve done since I left the Unit, but I’m ready to start looking at the long-term picture. As you’ve said, we need more field officers and less bureaucrats on the seventh floor. I’m just glad you think I have that kind of potential.”

  Trevor seemed pleased with that answer. “Look, this next assignment I have for you is a tricky one. It’s a multifold opportunity. First, it’s a deputy director position with an interagency partner, so it’s a true joint billet. It’ll get you noticed and allow you to do some good networking. Second, I don’t trust the current director or the program and neither do a lot of people on the seventh floor, so we want you to be our eyes and ears. You think you can handle that?”

  Mike raised an eyebrow. “So, a mission inside a mission, eh? What’s the job and what agency?” he asked.

  “Oh, you’re going to love this,” Trevor said with a smile as he handed him a folder with his new assignment. “I’m sending you to the National Counterterrorism Center to take over as the new deputy director of the floundering Immigration and Refugee Vetting Division. You’ll have a week to get prepped and do your research before you report to the NCTC. They know you’re coming, but they have no idea you’ll be spying on them.

  “As far as your new boss is concerned, you’re going to be the Agency’s liaison officer and fill in as her new deputy while you do your obligatory interagency posting, so you can get your next promotion. While the director will know what agency you work for, everyone else will be told you’re transferring over from Homeland Security. Technically, we’re not allowed to operate on US soil. However, since this group you’ll be working with only deals with foreign nationals, you’re still technically operating within our charter,” Trevor explained.

  There was a pause for a moment as Mike read through some of the initial information in the packet. He wasn’t exactly sure how to take this news. This was definitely going to be outside his wheelhouse. On the one hand, this was a very important position. The NCTC had been developed in August of 2004 by then-president George W. Bush and was created to be a truly joint counterterrorism center that integrated members from nearly every government and intelligence agency under one roof. They reported directly to the Director of National Intelligence and to the President. Over the years, the NCTC had developed into the lead agency: assessing, preventing, and countering terrorist threats against the nation. The division that he would be working in had the crucial task of screening every visitor that entered the United States to ensure that no one posed a security risk to the nation. On the other hand, despite the significance of the responsibility, Michael pictured himself chained to a desk with mounds of paperwork strewn in front of him. It was not his ideal position, considering he’d spent most of his adult life as an operator.

  “Trevor,” he began cautiously, “you know that I’m a team player and I will do whatever needs to be done, but are you sure this is where you want me? Sounds like a journey down bureaucratic red tape lane.”

  Trevor chuckled. “I figured you might say something like that. Look, you are a true spy. You’ve spent twelve out of the last fourteen years abroad, obtaining as much operational and field experience as possible. I know you’d rather be running a task force or be a station chief, but if you want to be promoted, this is what needs to happen.”

  Stone held up his hands in mock surrender. “I get it. I need to learn the bureaucratic side of the business better. But what specifically do you want me to look for? You obviously want me there for a reason, so what is it?”

  “To be honest, we’re not one hundred percent sure what’s going over there. Some folks who are getting greenlighted for entry into the country were previo
usly flagged by us as questionable, yet our recommendations have been overruled on a number of occasions. Something just isn’t adding up.”

  “Hmm…all right,” Mike countered. “I’ll play active observer for a while and see what’s what. Just don’t leave me chained to a desk any longer than necessary, OK?”

  He and Trevor both grinned. “I wasn’t planning on it,” Trevor said with a smile.

  *******

  McClean, Virginia

  National Counterterrorism Center

  Immigration and Refugee Vetting Division

  Pulling up to the secured parking garage with his silver Audi S5 coupe, Mike held his ID and credentials out for the security guard to examine. The guard gave them a quick once-over as he pulled a clipboard out to check his name against the roster of authorized personnel.

  The man looked up from his list. “You’re new, aren’t you?”

  Mike nodded. “First day, actually.”

  Smiling, the guard handed him his ID and credentials back. “Welcome to NCTC. Please pull ahead,” he said. He waved him through and signaled for the next vehicle behind him to pull forward.

  Mike parked and got out. Walking up to the building, Mike had to admit that the outside sure looked a lot nicer than the exterior of the George Bush Center for Intelligence building at Langley. Even the new CIA building didn’t look quite this nice from the outside.

  Mike walked through the glass turnstile doors and made his way over to the front desk. He showed his ID and credentials again, and the clerk quickly began the process of adding his ID’s PKI and RFID code into their system. This would allow him to pass effortlessly through security each day and give him his access to his designated workspaces. With the initial formalities of registration completed, Mike was given a quick description of where his department was located, and off he went.