Legions knocked on the door and escorted recruits Wilson and Lansing into the Directors office. Director Sessions stood, shook each man’s hand, and returned to his desk, motioning for both to sit. Legions stood silently, awaiting his orders.
.“Hank, please join us.” He turned to the two young men, “Gentlemen, I know you have questions about what has been going on since your initial testing. I asked you to meet me in my office so I could provide an explanation. In evaluating your reports the instructors noted abnormal consistencies between your works. Simply phrased, it baffled the hell out of us.”
Recruit Wilson spoke first, “Sir, did you say consistencies?”
“I did. We needed to know if these were a fluke so we devised a plan that would give us a clearer picture of each of your skill sets. We provided you with identical highly classified field intelligence reports for analysis.
“Our first concerns over your consistencies have only increased with these new reports. The only explanation I have been able to come up with is that you are somehow wired the same. I am in awe of your combined reasoning skills.
“What I would like to do now is to have you read the other’s report. Director Legions will provide you with an outer office where you will combine forces. There I want you to fine tune your findings and put them into a single cohesive analysis.
“Tomorrow morning at nine a.m. we will meet in my conference room where you will share your findings with my entire Directorate team. You are ordered not to discuss your reports with anyone until that time; and I mean anyone. Gentlemen, is this clear to you?”
Both Wilson and Lansing answered “Yes” in unison. The two were excused to wait outside in the hall until Director Legions joined them.
Once they left Director Sessions spoke, “Hank, I need you to listen closely. I want you to contact Judy Kritz and tell her I want two fully furnished top-of-the-line town houses ready for occupation by tomorrow afternoon. I want them as close to one another as possible. Hank, I also need Wilson and Lansing fully NSA credentialed by first thing tomorrow morning. And don’t tell me it can’t be done; it will be done. Do you understand?”
Deputy Legions stared at the boss in disbelief, “Yes Sir, I understand. Credentialed under what Directorate Sir?”
“NSOC; assign them to NSOC.”
Sessions thought that his Deputy Director was going to fall out on the floor, “Hank, you heard me correctly, I want them assigned to the National Security Operations Center.”
Hank choosing his next words carefully, “Sir, there are NSA agents who have waited their entire careers for a slight chance of being considered for a position at NSOC. Sir, we are talking about the nerve center of the NSA and you want to move two recruits above hundreds of other great agents who have paid their dues for that opportunity.”
Director Sessions standing, “Hank, tomorrow morning you are going to have a front row seat as these two recruits discuss their analyses of the classified intelligence report I assigned to them.
“The field intelligence provided was derived from a short satellite call between two Palestinian tribal leaders in the Baluchistan Province of Pakistan. The intercepted call was given our standard onceover and was deemed clean by our top analysts.
“A boots on the ground CIA operative inside Afghanistan insisted the call was significant. His informants, who lived-in the Baluchistan region, suddenly went stone-cold silent around the same time the conversation took place. Through his higher-ups, he has convinced them to take a second look at the Intel. I personally listened to this conversation no less than ten times, and I agreed with our analysts. I heard nothing in the conversation I would deem even remotely important.”
“Sir, so what is it Wilson and Lansing stumbled on that is so important?”
Holding up the reports Sessions replied, “Hank, first, I guarantee you these two young men did not stumble upon anything. I have never read a more concise, a more solid analysis in all my years in the NSA. Hell, I wish I could write one half as well.”
“Both Wilson and Lansing conclusions were just proven spot on. Originally the CIA didn’t consider the analysis to be anything but hogwash. But since they had requested the second look they felt compelled to act on the information.”
“Because of their findings, not five hours ago, one of our spy satellites did a full on sweep of that Pakistani region. That sweep found evidence that will rock Middle East diplomacy for decades to come.
“Hank, these two were the conduit in finding an Iranian weapons grade plutonium facility twenty-five clicks inside the Pakistani border. From a single cell phone call they were able to piece together information that catapulted this far beyond two local tribal leaders. They even traced it back to a member of Pakistan’s royal family.
“So, you want to talk to me about deserving NSA agents who should get their shot at NCOS. At this moment I would trade a hundred NSA agents for a single Wilson or Lansing. Having only one would be a prize in itself; but two, I don’t have the words.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Pat’s next leg of the reunion tour took them from Florida, to Maxwell Air Force Base in Montgomery, Alabama. They were heading to the United States Air Force Officer’s Training School. When he heard that Doliver was in officer training, the old adage when pigs fly came to mind.
The Air Force somehow convinced Doliver that being an officer wasn’t such a bad gig. Pat made a mental note to recruit the guy who had been able talk Greg into this.
Landing at Maxwell, they had a vehicle waiting to take them to the Holm Center. He first considered leaving Agent Watts behind with the plane but decided that having a beautiful woman around might make the “you’re fired, you’re hired” meeting with Greg Doliver a little more tolerable.
They found Greg sitting with a group of enlisted men in the main mess hall. Greg’s eyes lit up when he saw the contingent heading his way. Waits, first to reach him, punched Greg in the arm and called him a sellout. Greg just wrapped his arms around the young man and bear hugged him.
“You missed me; did you Kenny?”
Waits took a step back trying to keep from being hugged again, answered smiling, “Actually now that I think about it; not so much.”
Ron Collins and Greg shook hands and then Greg’s attention turned to Pat.
“So what brings you guys to Alabama; headed to a Tide football game?” Looking at Agent Watts he added, “If she’s going, let me get my jacket.”
Pat made the introduction, “Agent Emily Watts, this is Sergeant Greg Doliver. Please excuse Greg’s lack of…hell, just name it, Greg lacks it in some manner or another.”
Emily reaches out and takes Greg’s hand, “No worries Director, I’ve faced many men like Sergeant Doliver in my time. All I would have to do is start using words like love, commitment, and poof, he would disappear into thin air,” she said laughing.
Greg answered, “Hey, I resemble those remarks. What’s all this Director stuff; did they finally wise up and make you the head of the Secret Service?”
Pat walking Greg away from the group, “Not the Secret Service, the CIA. The President has asked me to jump ship to oversee a specialized team of agents. We are going to get to the bottom of the conspiracy.”
“You’re telling me the President is finally going to hunt these guys down? Well it’s about stinking time.”
“There’s more to the story, but that comes later” Pat said.
“Pat, you are here why?”
“Greg, only a handful of people knows what occurred that day on the South Lawn. The world still believes the assassinations were at the hands of a lone gunman. While I may not have control of the final message I hope we can one day tell the world the truth about that day.”
“And Pat, you are here why?” Doliver repeated.
Pat smiled at the question. “Well Gregory, the President has a proposition for you and the rest of your commando team. Well, it’s not really a proposition; it’s more like a friendly order. Anyway raise your right
hand and repeat after me.”
Greg stepped back, “Oh no, been there, done that. One question before we go any farther. Will I have to return to OTS when this mission is over?”
“Nope you’re mine until the end of time. Unless the President orders me to make you do that poof thing Emily spoke of earlier,” Pat said smiling.
Greg moving back toward the others “Let me go get my stuff. I didn’t want to be no dang officer anyways; no offense Captain Collins.”
“None taken, but its Major Collins,” Ron said smiling. “At least it was until a couple of hours ago.”
Pat calling to Greg as he headed to collect his belongings, “No real hurry, we are going to stay over tonight. Then we are heading off to pick up your buddy Peters, in the morning.”
Turning to Emily, “Agent Watts, please take care of setting us up with some rooms in town for tonight. Also, let the pilots know we will be staying over?”
“Yes Director. Sir, I have no objection at all if it would be easier for you to call me Emily; or just Watts.”
“Watts it is.” Pat smiled. He knew there was more to Emily then the story offered up by Director Lake. There would be plenty of time to get the truth, but right now he needed to complete his team and get the mission on track.
-----
Kevin, Matthew, and John, had just finished their lunch at Casey’s Diner. Several times during their meal, patrons would stop at the table and share condolences with Kevin. More than one mentioned his grandfather’s killer and hoped the Sheriff would catch him soon. It made the whole town uneasy having someone in the area that could do such a horrible thing.
Kevin looked at his two new acquaintances, “I agree with you I will never be able to clear myself with the Army. They won’t understand my only motivation was to save soldiers in the field. I have also weighed the offer to join your group. If I want to stay out of Leavenworth I see little choice but to join you in the Sherwood Forest. But before we can go off whistling I have unfinished business to deal with.”
At that moment John’s cell phone rang; he answered while walking away from the table. He held up a finger to excuse himself for the call.
Matthew speaking, “Kevin, what business would that be?”
Kevin placing both hands on the table explained, “I have to find and kill the SOB that murdered my grandfather. And Matthew, this is none negotiable. If true that the Army is waiting to arrest me I have nothing to lose in hunting down this scum and putting a bullet in his brain.”
John had returned and heard Kevin’s last sentence, “Whatever it is Kevin that you feel you have to do, we need to do it quickly; they are moving up your arrest. We can expect an FBI team here as early as tomorrow morning.”
Kevin clearly distraught, “Straight up, I am not leaving this area until I kill the guy. And I don’t think the FBI wants to find out just how serious I am about this.”
Matthew put his hand on Kevin’s shoulder to calm him. “John, let’s do this; we have a picture of the guy who took his grandfather’s life so let’s burn the midnight oil and use all our contacts to see if we can come up with a name to match the photo for Kevin.”
John speaking, “Kevin if we can get you within a hundred yards from him, can we wrap this up?”
“John, if you can get me with fifteen hundred yards of this dude I will be forever in your debt. I would prefer to kill him face to face, but find me a long range weapon and I will be just as happy seeing his head explode through my crosshairs.”
Matthew adding, “No promises but we will do all we can.”
The next afternoon, Kevin was positioned on the top of the First South Bank building in Lumberton, North Carolina. Beside him was a Remington 700 rifle provided to him by his new friend John. Just before five three young men exited a run-down apartment building, a block down from the bank. The one Kevin was focused on was Rob Jamison. Rob, was a known heroin addict who usually fed his habit by pulling small-time burglaries.
Jamison hadn’t popped up as a suspect in his grandfather’s murder because Lumberton was hours from Kevin’s hometown. At less than eight hundred yards away, the single gunshot almost decapitated the man; spreading blood and gore over his two companions.
Kevin instinctively chambered another round and for a second considered relieving the world of the other two misfits. Both stood frozen in shock, not comprehending what they had just witnessed. Kevin left the rifle on the roof, not caring that his prints were all over it. He wanted the world to know he killed the lowlife who had taken his grandfather from him. If his new friends could protect him as they claimed, it would make little difference.
-----
The Army’s investigation uncovered nothing solid and the case was closed. Donnie Givens decided he could never turn on one of the most respected snipers in the field. He knew that to speak of his suspicions would ruin him in the military. The investigation was soon reopened after the Army learned that Kevin Sands was responsible for killing the suspect in his grandfather’s murder. By then, Kevin Sands was in the wind.
It had been one of the Army investigators who had stumbled upon Kevin early in the process. Instead of sharing what he had found with the Army, he contacted Luke. Luke immediately contacted Matthew and asked he look into the young soldier.
Matthew knew that if these night raids continued Sands would soon be uncovered as the killer. They had to come up with a plan that would quickly get Sands back to the states. They knew that they would have to do something significant to gain Kevin’s trust. The group always had openings for someone with Kevin’s particular skill sets.
Matthew came up with what he believed to be a brilliant plan, so he hired the Jamison kid to kill Bill Stoops. They knew that bereavement leave was the fastest way to get Kevin out of Iran.
John had to admit it had all worked out splendidly. After enduring months of reconstructive surgeries a new person was born; Gabriel. It was Luke who had come up with Kevin’s new persona. It is believed that Gabriel is an archangel of God; God’s chosen messenger to his flock.
Gabriel proved himself to be everything and more. Already a master sniper he became highly effective with the world’s deadliest weapons. His training soon taught him new ways to kill then just squeezing a trigger. He learned how to manufacture a wide range of plastic explosives. Explosives found in the black market and homegrown variances using RDX compounds. For Gabriel the geometry of blast patterns often replaced the time-honored bullet to the brain.
In all the ways Gabriel had learned to kill, his number one preferred method was still calculated in meters and yards. Unfortunately the ole fashioned one shot, one kill, was used sparingly in today’s target environment.
Gabriel had contacted Luke the day that Matthew’s picture was broadcast over the news channels. Luke told Gabriel that his own investigation into Matthew’s death ended with the same conclusion the government’s had. Matthew was in bed with a Mexican drug lord and he had been caught.
It was over a year later and Luke was considering the groups next move. He was tired of playing cat and mouse with the President. He knew it was again time to move the country forward. The conspiracy theory now floating around was a huge thorn in his side. He saw it as the opportunity needed to rekindle the flame within his group.
He would need to quickly determine if this betrayal was internal or if the President had a mole. If Luke had a Judas among his peers he would have to bring them to the surface before they jeopardized decades of change.
To the group he would explain it as a way to honor Matthew. His death would not be the end of the story; but a new beginning for America. It was time for Gabriel to bring his expertise back to the States.
CHAPTER EIGHT
They had two, four men, teams stationed outside the complexes waiting for the final green light. It was 2:27 a.m. and they were two minutes to go. They received confirmation both occupants were home and the team leaders were given the go signal to proceed.
Surrounding neighbors heard
the explosions from the small flash-bang grenades; only one would call 911. In less than sixty seconds both men were captured, gagged, blindfolded, and moved, to waiting SUV’s. A short ground ride was followed by a helicopter ride to Andrews Air Force Base.
Once at Andrew’s they were transferred to a C27J Spartan cargo plane. Minutes later they were in the air again. Shortly after take-off the men were given injections; it was instant lights out.
When the blindfold was removed from Coleman Lansing, III it took a minute for his eyes to adjust to his surroundings. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious but he had woken to the worst headache in his life. Looking around he saw a group of men huddled around a desk in the corner of the room. He tried to move but found that he was tied to a chair.
A man who appeared to be in his forties spoke first, “Mr. Lansing, I’m, well my name is not important. Why don’t you just call me Bill? You are visiting us today because you have information we need.”
Cole answered softly, “Bill, Sir, I don’t know who you think I am, but I am nothing more but a paper pusher in a large room of other paper pushers. I can’t imagine anything that I might know could be of importance to you.”
The man walked over to Cole and slapped him hard across the face; that was for lying. Don’t lie to me again. You are Coleman Lansing and you work at NSOC. Your direct supervisor is none other than the NSA Director himself, Blake Sessions. A week ago you received an internal FBI memo with the code name Daylight. You are going to tell me about your analysis of that document.”
“Hit me, don’t hit me, but I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. I am a low-level computer geek for the U.S. Department of Transportation. I don’t know any Blake Sessions.”
During Cole’s denial, a new man entered the room and motioned Bill over for a private conversation. Minutes later Bill turned his attention back to Cole, "That was an update on your co-worker, Bradley Wilson. It seems that Mr. Wilson has endured a couple of rough days while in our care. You had a reaction to the injection and we had to slowly bring you out of sedation. Bradley, on the other hand, has been up since the first morning.
The Iscariot Factor (Half Staff Book 2) Page 6