Beyond the Checkpoint

by Addison M. Conley

  “That would be wonderful, Sam,” Dory enthusiastically said.

  “You know, it was always upsetting to me that some of the men didn’t even think women should be working back then, especially if they had children. Mrs. Clairmont had two little ones and finally quit when the third one was on the way. I was sad to see that she had passed away recently. God, rest her soul. She was such a nice woman and worked so hard.”

  “Thank you, Sam. Goodbye. Let’s have lunch soon.” Dory’s voice was choked with emotion.

  “Bye, Dory.”

  Dory hung up the phone, took a tissue and held out the box to Ali.

  “Oh my, God.” Ali’s hands were shaking and a few tears ran down her cheeks. “I had no idea. It doesn’t even sound like the woman I grew up with.”

  Dory blew her nose, then chuckled. “Well, we are in the business of protecting secrets. How did your mother feel about your deployments?”

  “You know, that was one thing I couldn’t figure out. She seemed to live the whole Ozzie and Harriet way of life, except when it came to my job. She was supportive.” Ali stood. “Thank you so much, Dory.”

  “You’re very welcome. Now go forth and conquer the day. Focus on the positive, do good deeds, and spread cheer.”

  Northern Virginia

  For almost a week, Ali had rummaged through the boxes of her mother’s personal belongings. Thus far, the tedious task yielded nothing.

  When she arrived at her sister’s house tonight, Stephanie asked her why she was in such a hurry. Ali stuck to her story. She wasn’t ready to reveal they were only half-siblings. When Stephanie asked about the large envelope in her hand, Ali mumbled some excuse. Minutes later as Ali climbed the steps to the attic, she couldn’t remember what she had said.

  She sat on the floor in the middle of her sister’s attic with her legs crossed and the large envelope on her lap. She swallowed and peeled it open and removed the photographs. The smiling woman reminded Ali of the mother she used to know before Edward’s abuse.

  A note stuck between the photos fell to the floor.

  Hi, Ali,

  I hope this helps in some way in your search for the truth. Sam listed the names of the men in the photos—all public info approved for the Family Day event. I did do a little investigative work myself. Unfortunately, all are deceased but one, and he left the agency in 1966, long before your mother became pregnant. I wish you luck.

  Dory

  Ali stuffed the photos and note back in the envelop and set them aside. After a deep breath, she mumbled, “Time to get started.”

  The boxes against the wall were not organized. Kevin and Stephanie had thrown things in to get them out of their mother’s house quickly. Ali rushed forward and grabbed one. “Maybe, my luck will change today.”

  When she opened the lid, she saw her mother’s employment papers with the NPIC emblem centered at the top of each page. Taking a stack, she scanned through them—personnel action forms, letters of recognition and congratulatory memos, and training certificates.

  “Dammit!” Nothing jumped out at her. Unclassified with little information and so inconspicuous that she would never have known what it meant if it hadn’t been for the emblem. “Keep going. There has to be something in here.”

  Ali pulled one photo out of her mother at a typewriter and a man smiling behind her and “1964” written on the back. “Yep, men were in absolute control. Glad, it’s changed for the better.” She lifted the lid on the next box. Her heart stopped.

  “What the hell?”

  Ali fumbled her cell phone out of her pocket and punched in Lynn’s number. “Honey, you’re not going to believe this.”

  “What did you find?”

  “I just pulled out a duplicate of a declassified U-2 image from October 14, 1962. Analysis of the U-2 was proof the Soviets were installing missiles in Cuba. Two days after these images were snapped, NPIC used them to brief President Kennedy.” Ali paced back and forth as she talked. “The fortieth anniversary of the Cuban Missile Crisis was celebrated in October 2002 at my agency. This is—wow—so unbelievable.”

  “Stop! Take a break. You’re talking too fast and lost me in the alphabet soup and history. What the frak does the Cuban Missile Crisis have to do with your parents?”

  “I didn’t think of it before, but Mom started working at NPIC a year before the Cuban Missile Crisis. She probably was involved!”

  “Okay. Please, calm down. You’re breaking my eardrum, and your sister might hear you.”

  “Oh, sorry. Anyway, what’s really exciting is the duplicate declassified U-2 images were only given out at the fortieth anniversary ceremony to agency employees and distinguished guests. I was there and received one. My Mom would not have received one unless my dad was at the same ceremony. God, this still freaks me out that we all three worked for the same agency.”

  “This is great news. When are you leaving? It’s getting late.”

  “Sorry, I’m going to stay longer. Don’t wait up for me.”

  “Okay. Love you.”

  “I love you, too. Oh, Lynn?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Even through our ups and downs, my heart was always with you. When I get home, I’m going to show you how much you mean to me.”

  “I can’t wait to kiss your beautiful face. One hour. No more or you’ll be too tired tomorrow.” Lynn laughed. “But if you take your time showing me how much I mean to you, then we are both going to be exhausted.”

  “Oh…just a little longer. Bye, sweetheart.”

  Ali found a few more mementos and one letter of recognition dated April 20, 1971. The letter read:

  Dear Mrs. Clairmont,

  It is my pleasure to inform you that the recommendation for an Outstanding Performance Rating submitted by your supervisor is approved.

  You are commended for the manner in which you have been performing the assigned responsibilities of your position. The excellent quality and quantity of your work as a Research Assistant is highly significant to the success of the National Photographic Interpretation Center. Your dedication and effort will further benefit the mission of this center by providing inspiration to other employees.

  A copy of this letter will be made a permanent part of your Official Personnel Folder. I extend sincere congratulations for your achievement and wish you continued success in your career.

  Sincerely,

  Mr. Arthur C. Lundahl

  Director of the National Photographic Interpretation Center

  A note scribbled below the signature read:

  Happy tenth anniversary at NPIC, Carol. You’ve been a true asset to the team, and I know you’ll make an excellent photo interpreter.

  Best Regards,

  Art

  “Holy moly! I heard how he frequently showed up at people’s desks to chat, but this is amazing!” Ali shook the letter in her hand as she did a little dance.

  “Ali, it’s almost nine. What in the world are you doing?” Stephanie was standing behind her.

  Ali froze. She dropped the letter in the box and turned to face her sister. “I didn’t hear you come up. Sorry for being noisy.”

  “When you didn’t quit at eight, I thought I’d check to see if you were still alive. Clearly, something has you tickled.”

  Ali saw the 1964 black and white photo out of the corner of her eye. “I found this photo of Mom. I didn’t know she typed. Did you? Gee, the clothes they used to wear.” Ali giggled for effect.

  “I heard she worked briefly as a secretary. Dad didn’t like her driving into the city.” Stephanie smiled. “Great photo. Mom’s cute, but the hairstyle.” She laughed and hugged Ali. With her hand on the doorknob, Stephanie said, “See you another night. I’m going to bed.”

  “Goodnight.”

  As soon as Stephanie shut the door, Ali went back to rifling through the box. More boring papers. She was ready to give up and go home when she spotted a color photo sticking out from undern
eath some papers. Her mother was wearing a casual dress and with a radiant smile. Ali moved the papers aside. A man was standing next to her mother and rested his hand casually around Carol’s shoulder. A lump formed in her throat. He had features similar to Ali’s, including wavy reddish-brown hair.

  “Who are you, mystery man?” She whispered.

  Lynn rolled over. “Hi sweetie. Sorry, I feel asleep.”

  Ali crawled on the bed and softly wrapped her arms around Lynn. “I love you.” She gave Lynn a kiss on the neck, then a warm, slow kiss on the lips.

  “Ummm…I love you, too.”

  “I know we need sleep, but,” Ali held up her index finger, “first I have to tell you what I found.” Ali handed Lynn the folder. “There’s a letter from Art Lundahl and a color photo. I think my dad’s in the photo.”

  “Who’s Art Lundahl?”

  “Damn you NSA wienies. You don’t know anything about imagery. How in the world do they ever let you on a Joint Duty Assignment? They need to ship you back to Fort Meade. Lundahl was one of CIA’s best, the founder of NPIC, and the father of imagery intelligence.” Ali handed her the picture. “I’m going to brush my teeth. Be back in a jiffy.”

  Lynn studied the photo and immediately recognized Ali’s mother in the center. To her right was a man with hair similar to Ali’s, and the same lopsided grin. Somehow, he looked familiar.

  Ali crawled into bed. “I think the guy is my dad. Do you think I’m crazy?”

  Lynn kissed her tenderly. “Yum. Beautiful crazy. Yes, I think you’re onto something, but you rock the hair much better.”

  “When I saw his face, most of my anger softened. I hope he’s still alive.” Ali cuddled next to Lynn’s side. “I can’t believe I found him so fast. Tomorrow at work, I’ll search the global address book and see if he’s still working. Maybe I’ll get lucky.”

  “You know his name?”

  Ali yawned and adjusted her pillow. “Yeah. It’s on the back of the photo. Thomas Blair.”

  Chapter 51

  October 2017 – NSA Headquarters, Fort Meade, Maryland

  “Good morning. Can I help you?”

  Lynn didn’t recognize the secretary, and the woman was way too chipper for this time of day. “Good morning. I need to see Mr. Blair.”

  “And you are?”

  “Lynn Stewart.”

  “He usually doesn’t begin appointments before eight. What time is your meeting?” The secretary put on oversized glasses with a purple frame and squinted at the computer. “I don’t see your name on his schedule.”

  “I don’t have one, but I’ll wait all day if I have to.”

  The woman focused at Lynn’s badge clipped to her blazer. “Well, Ms. Stewart, that could be a long time. He’s in with the director most of the day, and I don’t see that number giving you access to those meetings.”

  Lynn pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I’m sorry ma’am. I’ve been up most of the night. Please ring Mr. Blair. Tell him Lynn Stewart from the 2010 Paktia investigation is here, and that I must speak with him. It’s urgent.”

  Lynn turned as two tall, beefy men dressed in dark navy suits appeared. “Is there a problem, Clarice?”

  “I’m not sure. Please stand-by.”

  The secretary picked up the phone receiver. “Hello, Mr. Blair. I’m sorry to disturb you. There’s a Ms. Lynn Stewart here that insists on seeing you…No, she doesn’t have an appointment, sir.” The secretary hung up. “Gentlemen, please escort her out.”

  Lynn couldn’t believe Blair refused to see her. “What did he say?”

  “As I said, Mr. Blair does not see anyone without an appointment.”

  The one guard grabbed Lynn’s arm while the other one spoke into the radio. “Additional assistance needed in Mr. Blair’s suite.”

  “Cancel that order! Release Ms. Stewart.”

  The secretary bolted out of her chair and knocked over a stack of papers. “Sir. I’m sorry, but you hung up after asking if she had an appointment.”

  “I’m sorry, Clarice.” Blair turned to Lynn. “This is entirely my fault.” He held open his office door for Lynn. “After you, Ms. Stewart.”

  Lynn’s frustration boiled over once he closed the door. “You have an entire hidden life. No more coverups. Why couldn’t you have been a part of her life?”

  He wet his lips and swallowed. “Even though I didn’t raise Ali, I couldn’t be prouder. She’s a fine woman and an exceptional analyst.”

  “Is the job all you care about? You missed a life with a wonderful daughter.”

  “I wish I had been more of a father.” His brown eyes misted over.

  Lynn came to his office angry, but seeing him so vulnerable stabbed at her heart.

  “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” She ran her hand through her hair.

  “No need for apologies. I deserved that.”

  “I just don’t understand how you could work in such close proximity and not tell her. And in 2010, you said something to me about having close family connections. Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you pull her out? It was too dangerous. We’re lucky the sting operation didn’t end up with someone killed.”

  “Admiral Kent insisted we present her with the opportunity.” Blair swallowed. “We would have lost valuable time, and it would have been a conflict of interest if I’d stepped in and removed her. Not to mention that Kent wouldn’t have allowed it.” Blair motioned to some comfy wing-back chairs.

  “She found a color picture of you and her mom, and connected the dots with the looks. Your name is on the back. You can’t put off talking to her. You owe it to her.”

  “You’re right.” Blair’s face was contorted like he was fighting back emotions. “I thought I was doing the best thing by staying out of her life. How is she? Sounds like you two are back together.”

  Lynn shifted in the chair. “I love her and don’t want to see her hurt. Please talk to her as soon as possible.”

  There was a tap on the door, and the secretary poked her head inside. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, but Ms. Ali Clairmont is on the phone for you, sir.”

  Blair locked eyes with Lynn. “Everyone’s in Global now. I used to have an alias.” He swallowed. “Clarice, please ask her to hold. I’ll be a few minutes. And please apologize for the wait.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He brushed imaginary lint from his slacks, except this time, his hands were shaking. Lynn reached out and touched his knee.

  “Ali only wants the truth. Speak from the heart and everything will be fine.” She thumbed towards the door. “I should get going. Traffic’s a killer this time of day.”

  He nodded. Tears had welled up in his eyes.

  Chapter 52

  October 2017 – Northern Virginia

  Lynn threw her keys on the kitchen counter and plopped into a chair. While she had told Ali about taking the day off, she didn’t say why.

  “What in the world was I thinking?”

  The house was quiet. She suspected that wouldn’t last. It was likely that Ali would not finish her workday after talking to her father.

  “Might as well make myself useful,” Lynn mumbled and began to cook.

  Ali walked in the door less than an hour later. Lynn was relieved when she ran up and hugged her tight.

  “Hey, sweetie. Your eyes are all puffy. I didn’t think you got that emotional over my Shephard’s pie.”

  Nuzzled into Lynn’s ear, Ali whispered, “I talked to my dad.” She kissed Lynn’s cheek, then let go and lightly punched Lynn in the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

  “I thought it was him, but—”

  “Bullshit. You knew it was him.” Ali wiped her face with her hand.

  Lynn shifted from one foot to the other. “Okay. I panicked. You were so happy. I didn’t know what to say. My immediate reaction was to drive up there and wring his fucking neck.”

  “Not his fraking neck?” Ali put her arms around Lynn. “I was mad for a littl
e while, but I know your intentions were good. By the way, I hope you’re making a large Shepard’s pie.”

  “Yes. I know you love the leftovers.”

  “I do, but I also invited him to dinner.”

  “Wow. I would not have guessed that speed in a zillion years. Are you sure about tonight?”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready, but there are questions I want answers to. My emotions are all over the place. The more I put it off, the more I’ll spin.”

  “I understand.” Lynn rocked her and smoothed her hair.

  “I told him a little about Edward over the phone.”

  Lynn positioned her to look into her face. “That’s incredibly brave.”

  “I’m tired of everyone refusing to talk. I want it out in the open. I don’t want to be ignored. It was so horrible that later in life, I questioned my memory. If it wasn’t for the few times talking to Denise and the therapist, I would have lost my mind.”

  Lynn kissed Ali’s forehead. “Go on. Take a shower and rest. I’ll finish dinner preps.”

  As Lynn led Thomas Blair inside, Ali took a deep breath. Earlier, she felt more confident. Now, she wondered if rushing into a meeting was a mistake. At times, her life felt like a Rubik’s Cube with bits and pieces twisting and turning in an attempt to fall into place.

  Their eyes met, and he stepped forward. Ali stiffened and extended her hand. “Thank you for coming Mr. Blair. I’ve asked Lynn to stay. She’s my partner. I want her by my side.”

  “Of course. Thank you for having me.”

  He sat in the chair next to the sofa, and Ali scooted tighter against Lynn. She examined the man in the finely tailored suit, crisply ironed, with the blue geometric tie.

  “Why did you stay away?”

  “Ali, I didn’t know that Edward abused you or your mother. I would have taken you both away if I had.” His eyes pleaded. “And your mother’s inactions…her not protecting you…she…she doesn’t sound like the woman I knew. I’m so sorry.”