The Red Cell

by André Le Gallo

  “If I understand our system correctly,” Tremaine said with a slight smile, “the CIA provides intelligence to support policymakers. Are you not crossing the line?”

  “Expelling hostile intelligence officers,” LaFont said, “is a traditional method of dealing with a known internal threat. As far as Tomahawk missiles go, I agree. But that’s above my pay grade. Yosemani, by the way, may or may not recover from Kella’s marksmanship. But, after we extract all of his secrets, we should be able to use him as a bargaining chip.”

  “We have another option,” Steve said looking tentatively at LaFont as if waiting for her consent. When she nodded slightly, he directed his next comment at the president. “We could try to recruit him, or turn him as seems to be the term these days, and send him back to Tehran.”

  “That does not make sense,” Baxter said smiling condescendingly at Steve.

  “First,” LaFont stepped in, “we’ll see if Yosemani pulls through and lives. Our first priority of course is to debrief him thoroughly. Tehran will undoubtedly request we return him. And remember, we have a double agent and we have the possibility of convincing Tehran that Yosemani is resisting our efforts to extract intelligence from him or, on the contrary, we can paint him as a traitor. Yosemani will have a choice of spending the rest of his life in a maximum security prison here in the United States or of going back to Tehran if he agrees to cooperate. We have the capability of controlling the conditions of his return.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Baxter said. “Keep me informed. And I don’t think that is a topic fit for the oversight committees.”

  “All very interesting,” Tremaine said. “But what are we going to do with the two of you? You, Steve, are already the director of my intelligence staff. But you, Kella, are obviously equally talented, and equally deserving. How can I reward you?”

  “We’re still on our honeymoon, Mr. President,” Kella said. “But I can tell you right now, if Steve wants to get involved in another adventure to save the world, he’s going to do it as a bachelor. We’ve been talking about creating an extreme sport company, The Vertical Dimension. Maybe this is the time to put words into action. “

  While they all grinned, Tremaine stood, went to his desk, and returned with two blue boxes, which he opened. “We have no photographers and no media folks here. Thérèse’s suggestion. All part of your culture, I understand. But let me acknowledge your contributions to the country, and our sincere gratitude, by giving you each the Presidential Medal of Freedom.”

  He hung the coveted award, a white star with a blue circle in the middle containing thirteen golden stars on a background of five eagles, around the neck of each on a blue ribbon.

  After everyone in the room shook Steve and Kella’s hands, Tremaine said, “There’s another thing I’m going to offer you, which I will not allow you to refuse.” Looking toward Marshall, he asked, “What if we held that wedding reception across the street at Blair House?”

  “I’ll check with Kate, but I’m sure it will be all right with her. What do you think, Kella?” Marshall asked, as she walked up to the two of them.

  “Blair House? I thought that was only for affairs of state.”

  “So that’s settled. Now I have another topic for you, Marshall. I would like you to be an adviser to my negotiating team with Iran. I would ask Steve as well, but staying on good terms with Kella is one of my priorities.”

  “I hope I’m not interrupting,” LaFont said, “but I wanted to ask Marshall about his health.”

  “I do have news,” Marshall said. “I learned yesterday I’ve been accepted in a clinical trial. Double-blind and all that, so I won’t know whether I’m getting the real drug or the placebo. Phase 1 determined the drug is safe and Phase 2 concluded it was successful among a small sample of patients. This will be Phase 3, with thousands of patients in the United States, Europe, and Australia. Eighteen months. The good news is the pharmaceutical company is betting big on this drug. So I hope they’re making a good business decision.”

  On the other side of the room, Baxter asked Steve, “You know, our party could use some new blood in Virginia, where you’re a resident, right?”

  “Politics? I do believe in certain principles, but I’ve never planned to go into politics.”

  “What principles, exactly?”

  “I’ve never—this could be my elevator speech on that topic—I believe in the basic freedoms: thought, speech, religion. In free-enterprise capitalism. And in equality of opportunity, rather than equality of outcome. But politics is not my thing. I’m going to make a life with Kella.”

  “What about the Red Cell?” Baxter asked, raising his voice. “Both the president and I think it’s the most important tool in our kit. We want you to take it over.”

  “You heard Kella. I’ll take it on until you find somebody else. In the meantime, I’m going to become Yosemani’s ‘best friend,’ his lifeline. According to his bio, he’s an ambitious guy, and I’m sure he’d prefer to be wheeling and dealing in Tehran than to be in a maximum security prison in Colorado.”

  AFTERWORD

  I started this book last year but had to put it aside when ALS deprived me of my ability to type. I resumed it this spring, having exceeded my predicted lifespan and having obtained the necessary dictating software. More crucial, Judy Ortiz volunteered to spend many hours with me every week to fill in for the many shortcomings of the software. This book could not have come to life without her.

  The main characters of The Red Cell, Steve and Kella, continue to spearhead the CIA’s clandestine operations as they did in the first two books of this trilogy, The Caliphate and Satan’s Spy. Steve is modeled after our son, Christopher, who died in a plane crash during his honeymoon and who had all of Steve’s skills and qualities but never worked for the CIA. Kella, a fictional character, was brought back to life after comments from her fans. Yosemani is modeled after General Qasem Soleimani, the actual commander of Iran’s Quds Force.

  Although other characters are either fictional or composites, several are not. Kate Church is modeled on my wife Cathy, who traveled with me all over the world raising our family under often dicey circumstances and playing an integral role in my career. Thérèse LaFont, who was first a division chief and then the chief of the National Clandestine Service in the previous two books, is modeled on our daughter Thérèse, who has hands-on experience in counterterrorism and has won several awards from the National Counter Terrorist Center. Elise Von Widmer is modeled after our second daughter Elise who, like her fictional counterpart, is in the art world. Monty Rogers was one of my best friends and a CIA colleague who became one of the leaders of the Directorate of Operations. John Callahan is my brother-in-law, one of the most generous people I know. Robert Holm, is a patriot with Marine Corps Vietnam credentials. Al Costantini, a World War II Army veteran and a charismatic “fast tracker” in all of his endeavors, was a first generation American; this country would have been a better place had he chosen to go into politics.

  Iran’s Quds Force is the very real combination of the KGB’s SMERSH, the Soviet assassination unit made famous in the James Bond novels, of the West’s special operations forces, and of the CIA’s covert action capabilities. Its tentacles extend not only to the Middle East but to South America as well, where its operatives have become significant players in the illegal drug trade.

  The security measures guarding the Golden Gate Bridge described in the book are totally fictional. I made a point to remain uninformed about the real capabilities and procedures in order to not do homework for potential terrorists. The last scene in Chapter 47 is modeled on the United Flight 93 passengers’ revolt on September 11, 2001. Citizens’ concerns and actions will always be the most effective protection against terrorism.

  The Skylark 1 and Skylark 2 are mini UAVs in use by our military. The Skylark 3 is my invention. The Iraq War triggered a ratcheting up of IED and counter-IED technology reflected in the story’s climax.

  Marshall�
��s illness, ALS (Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis), is little-known but terminal, and is also called Lou Gehrig’s disease. Although it was identified in the 19th century in France, its cause and its cure remain unknown. Unlike AIDS, which was killing millions and included celebrities among its victims, ALS at present lacks the political interest or momentum to support the necessary research to find a cure.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I owe thanks to the many people who made this book possible; first to the medical community. My quality of life would have decreased much faster without the monitoring by the ALS clinics at San Francisco’s Forbes Norris, headed by Dr. Katz, at UCSF, headed by Dr. Lomen-Hearth, and at UC Davis, headed by Dr. Oskarsson.

  The Veterans Administration is funded by the Congress to support ALS veterans, and I have been on the receiving end of equipment without which I would have been bedbound and without the dictating program that helped me bring this book to life. The medical staffs at Fort Mather and at the Palo Alto Veterans’ Hospital have also been instrumental in this process, particularly Dr. Flavin. Michaela Bennett, my primary caregiver for more than a year, has been a mainstay of my existence almost from the time I was unable to walk. Another VA benefit has been Mark Lynch, my computermeister.

  Yolo Hospice has been monitoring my decline impatiently, and Kim Bell has been my other caregiver for several months. The book could not have been written without the generous, and volunteer, assistance from Judy Ortiz.

  Phil Berardelli, publisher of Mountain Lake Press and D Street Books, generously gave of his time and writing expertise, while Jordan Rosenfeld gave the manuscript her usual thorough critique.

  My family, especially our two daughters Thérèse and Elise, and our two grandchildren Brittany and Preston, have been continuously supportive.

  Another source of support has come from a remarkably accomplished group, my CIA classmates. Tom Twetten wrote the Foreword, giving me more credit than I can claim. I was too young to “play tricks” on the Nazis during the war. However, the German occupation of France taught me skills and motivation that helped me in my CIA career. Dick Holm, who also began his career running guerrillas in Laos and who wrote his own book, The Craft We Chose, made useful suggestions to my story.

  I owe my biggest thanks to my parents. We immigrated to the United States in 1949 literally without a penny. Yet, somehow, my father worked as a chef in various French restaurants in the New York area, and my mother was a factory worker. They were able to send me to a not-inexpensive university, Lehigh, in 1955.

  I was in Brittany during the Normandy invasion of 1944 and exchanged eggs and fresh fruits for cigarettes and Spam with the GIs of Patton’s Third Army, as they pursued German troops toward the coast. But those American soldiers gave me much more: the opportunity for a life in the United States. Millions of us owe our thanks to them.

  Finally, the fact that I was able to stay at home for these past several years, as opposed to being in a hospital, is because my wife Cathy has been my primary caregiver. She has been the life support that allowed me to write this book.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  During his length career with the Central Intelligence Agency, André Le Gallo—who passed away in 2017—weathered several coups, a war, and a revolution, working across three continents. He served in operations that ranged from the sensitive to the extremely dangerous, holding senior positions and engaging frequently in some of the most challenging actions to protect his country from its enemies. Le Gallo’s novels—The Caliphate, Satan’s Spy, and The Red Cell—reflect the extensive knowledge he gained from those experiences, enabling him to produce a suspense trilogy of unparalleled detail.