The Iscariot Factor (Half Staff Book 2)

by Rick Mitchell

  Ron then went over the interrogation plan with the team; including the twins. He waited a half hour before entering the room with Fields.

  He pulled a chair across the table from Mitchell, and sat down. “Did you have enough to eat?”

  Mitchell looked up at him, and replied, “Yes, thank you.”

  “Mr. Fields, my name is Agent,” Ron hesitated, “Let’s not dwell on names right now. Do you know why you are here?”

  “I not only know why I am here, I know where here is.” Fields replied.

  “Then please enlighten me, and all who are watching,” Ron said, pointing to the camera in the right corner of the room.

  “I got too close. Not sure yet what to, but I got too close; didn’t I?” the man said smiling.

  “I must admit, you are not the normal prisoner we have coming through here. Aren’t you the least bit concerned about what might happen here today?” Ron asked.

  “Electric Shock, Waterboarding, Bamboo under nails, Sound Aversion, Sleep Deprivation. Have I missed anything?” Mitchell said flatly.

  Ron stood up, and said, “Just one I can think of; bullet to the brain.”

  Mitchell stood with him. “I am of the understanding that CIA directives confine your field operations to geography outside of the United States. Although I was blindfolded for the trip, I am pretty sure that we are still in the good ole U.S.A.

  Ron laughed out loud, and re-took his seat. “That’s naïve thinking for a man who has written volumes on the government’s propensity for lying. As far as being in the good ole U.S.A., I want you to look at where you are as a different dimension; The Twilight Zone.”

  Ron looked up at the camera, “Agents Frick and Frack, please join us gentlemen.”

  Brad Wilson and Cole Lansing entered the room carrying laptops, folders, and a digital recorder. Brad spoke first, “Mr. Fields, do you watch television; go to movies?”

  The question threw Mitchell, and it took him a second to answer. “I used to go to movies as a kid; I don’t own a television.”

  “My colleague and I are wondering,” Lansing tossing the folder full of copies of Mitchell’s writings on the table, “how you get all your information?”

  Mitchell picked up the folder and quickly skims through his work. He looks up at the twins, “Sometimes I listen to the radio. When in town I might pick up a newspaper. Most of it, pointing to the file folder, is just good old fashion common sense. Hell, a person would have to be an idiot not to see what is happening.”

  “Mr. Fields, we have looked at your theories, and as trained analyst, we believe that your wealth of knowledge goes well beyond good old common sense. It suggests that most of these writings are the work of a well-oiled group of like believers. And Sir, you are here because we need to know the names and locations of your group of co-conspirators.”

  The three men saw Mitchell’s composure change from sunny day, to storm, “First, let’s get this straight. I don’t write theories; I write fact. I am sure that if it wasn’t so, I wouldn’t be sitting in a room at Area 51 having to explain myself.

  “Second, I read the tea leaves pretty good on my own. I don’t need others to tell me what to think, when to think it, or even why I thought it. So, why don’t you boys just tell me what nerve I hit? What truth did I land on that has me in such deep crap? Just tell me, and we can go from there.”

  Brad Wilson speaking, “I am sure that you would love nothing else than for us to tell you which Achilles heel you stepped on. Then allowing you, and your conspiracy cell, to run it up the flagpole for all to see; no thank you, Sir.”

  Mitchell gathered his composure and started again, “I am going to say this one more time, so listen carefully. Every word that I write comes from here,” Mitchell pointing at his head. “I am not part of a group; it’s just me. Do you get it now?”

  Brad replying immediately, “Then explain this; in our interrogation of Sheriff Bottoms, he said you mailed hundreds of letters from the local post office. But we found that many of your theories began their life on the web. We have found no Internet connectivity at, or around, you home. If you only listen to the radio, occasionally read the newspapers, and have no computer, then please explain to us how your correspondences are reaching the outside; over the web?”

  The three men saw concern come over Mitchell’s face as he tried to find a reasonable answer. “I don’t know; maybe I have a fan that searches out my writing, and puts them on the Internet. I can’t answer what I don’t know.”

  They didn’t expect Fields to answer the question truthfully. That was OK, they already knew the answer. Ron spoke, “Mr. Fields, do you think we are stupid? Would it surprise you to find out that we have your nephew in the adjoining room; asking him these same questions?

  “We know that you send copies of your writings to your nephew. And we know he enters them into various conspiracy sites for you. What you have done is made your nephew a co-defendant in your federal trial. I am tired of the lies; who else is working with you?”

  “You keep my nephew out of this! I promise you, there is no one else involved in my writings. What do I have to do to make you believe me?”

  Cole reached into a different file folder, and handed Brad a single theory. Appearing as if he chose the paper at random, Brad looked over it for a moment before speaking, “OK, Mr. Fields, here’s an example. This one comes from someone who calls himself Jimmy.”

  It appears to take Brad minutes to retrieve a second file he is searching for. “Here it is,” he hands both copies to Fields. “Read these, and then tell me the two of you didn’t conspire when writing these letters. They may not be word for word, but you have to admit they are damn close.”

  Mitchell read the paper they said came from Jimmy. What he didn’t know was that Lansing and Wilson had stayed up half the night writing the opposing letter. Mitchell stood again, and paced the room angrily.

  “Jimmy Lang has never had a single thought of his own since the day he was born.” Turning back toward the twins, “He is nothing but a thief, and a liar. I warned him that if I ever caught him stealing my work again, I would end him.”

  Collins joined the conversation, “Mr. Fields, what exactly does, end him, mean?”

  “I told him that I would hunt him down like the mangy dog he is; and kill him. Is that clear enough for you? I would friggin kill him.”

  “Alright, I believe that we can dial this down a notch. You’re telling us that this Jimmy Lang and you aren’t conspiring to bring down the government of the United States?” Ron asked.

  “Agent, I don’t need to bring down the government of the United States. You work for it; don’t you think that they are doing a bang up job of that on their own? I am telling you that Jimmy Lang is stealing my work. And that,” pointing at the paper, “isn’t his first time.”

  Collins speaking to the twins, “Agent’s, you have read all the files, could Mitchell be telling the truth? Is it possible that Jimmy Lang is stealing his work? Has your analysis brought us out here on a wild-goose chase?”

  Brad Wilson answered Ron, “As much as I would like to stick with our theory, I can’t tell you with one hundred percent certainty this might not possibly be the case.”

  Ron replying angrily, “Did you just say theory? I thought that you two never screwed up. I would have never signed on to this if I thought it was just a theory. Crap, there is only one-way for us to come out of this without it hitting the fan.

  “Mitchell, I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt. You’re going to have to sit tight for a few days until we can confirm your story. I think we have a way out of this, but I am going to need to speak with Jimmy Lang. If he is the low down lying dog you make him out to be, I will be happy to give him triple of what we put you through. Do you know how we can find him?”

  Mitchell considered his situation for a few seconds, “My nephew Jake, helped me search him out after his last bout of plagiarism. I don’t have his exact address, but it is somewhere out in
Arizona. A place called Sonoma, I think.”

  Brad asked, “Could it have been Sedona, Sonoma is in California?”

  Mitchell paused, and answered, “That’s it; he lives somewhere out in the sticks around Sedona. So, when you find him, and beat the truth out of him; I can go home?”

  Collins answered, “Mr. Fields, if that is in fact the case, yes, we will take you back to Virginia City. But if you are not being honest with us, all bets are off.”

  The three men left Mitchell to himself, in the interrogation room. They returned to the conference room, and Ron gave hi-fives to all the team members. “OK, we will take-off in the morning, after I have had the chance to speak with Director Drice.”

  Turning to the twins, “You two; what a great job. I am going to need satellite imagery ready to go in the morning. If you have to reroute a satellite to achieve it, get on the horn with Agent Watts, she’ll assist you.

  “Also, please take Fields to the mess hall, and get him some dinner; whatever he wants. Also, I agree with the Sheriff; he is pretty harmless. Let’s give him a bed in one of the extra quarters. With a guard mind you; but let him have a little space.”

  A smile suddenly came across Ron’s face, “Also, get with the General in the morning, and see if Mitchell can accidentally catch a glimpse of a couple of Area 51 oddities. Come up with something that will knock his socks off. I want him to have lots to talk about when he gets back home. No one will ever believe a word he says, or writes, about this visit. Let’s give him a good story anyway.”

  Doliver left the conference room, and knocked on the door of the interrogation room Mitchell was in. After the second knock, Greg opened the door.

  “Mr. Fields, we haven’t met, but I am Greg Doliver. Sir, I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate the service that you gave to our country in Vietnam. And secondly, I have read some of your letters, and to be honest with you, I agree with most of what you write.

  I believe you messages are important for the health of our country, and to those of us working to keep the treads of democracy intact. Anyway, I am sorry if I disturbed you. Oh, I think that someone is coming to get you to take you to dinner in a few minutes. It was good to meet you, Sir.”

  After the door closed, Mitchell Fields sat in silence, thinking about what Greg had said. It had been years since anyone had mentioned to him his service in Vietnam. Since the day he had returned in 1972, the word appreciate had been seldom uttered.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Don Lake phoned Pat to invite him to a meeting with himself, and President Ward, to discuss the investigation. Edna looked up from her desk when Pat entered the outer office.

  “Deputy Director Drice, it is good to see you. Please go in; I believe they are expecting you.”

  “We are very formal today.”

  Edna smiled,” If you want to know the truth, the President asked that I be more cordial to his visitors. Now that you are a big wheel with the CIA, I thought I would practice on you.”

  “It was cordial indeed,” Pat replied. “Scared me a little, but cordial nonetheless.”

  Pat walked into the Oval Office, and both men stood to shake his hand. The President spoke first. “Pat, it is good to see you. I have been speaking to Don and have been looking at the investigation from the ninety thousand foot level. We wanted you to give us a glance from ground level.”

  “Mr. President, I haven’t had the opportunity to brief Director Lake on our latest progress. Would it be alright if he, and I, stepped out into the hall for a moment, Sir?”

  Lake smiled at his newest Deputy Director, “Pat, I appreciate the gesture, and if circumstances were different, that is what I would expect from you. I believe in this case, let her rip.”

  “Mr. President, to answer your question, I just got off the phone with Agent Collins, Ron Collins, Sir. He may have uncovered information that will provide a huge break in the investigation.”

  The President motioned for Pat to sit at the couch, across from them. “What break?”

  “Mr. President, there is a high probability that we now know the identity of the person who released the conspiracy letter. The team is finishing their final briefing, and will be headed to Arizona within the hour to apprehend the suspect.”

  “Who is he? Is he is one of the conspirators who murdered President Stephens?”

  “That is where it gets tricky. It turns out the twins are avid conspiracy readers, and they recognized the author of the letter almost immediately. All they had to go on was a first name, mentioned only once in a letter by a second theorist. The second theorist was picked up yesterday in Nevada.”

  Lake speaking to Pat, “Does this have anything to do with the phone calls I have been receiving all morning from Groom Lake? Please tell me your team didn’t really bring a conspiracy theorist to Groom Lake?”

  Pat answering, “The buck stops with me; I gave them permission to do just that. In their speaking with the Sheriff in Virginia City, he was adamant the subject wouldn’t share anything with our team short of water boarding. And he wasn’t sure it would be effective.

  The twins told us the man has a keen interest in Area 51, writing about it on several occasions. We needed him to talk, so we yanked him out of his comfort zone, and dropped him into his fears.”

  The President speaking, “He could have spent last night at the foot of my bed, if it got us the answers we needed. Since your team is headed to Arizona, I take it that your plan worked.”

  “Yes Sir; but let’s get back to the tricky part Mr. President. We believe we know the writer, but the twins are in agreement that this man didn’t come up with the theory.”

  Don Lake speaking, “So, someone did feed it to him? Do we have any idea yet of whom that someone might be?”

  “No Sir, we are hoping that this trip to Arizona provides us with the final piece to the puzzle. I still want to believe that someone in the conspiracy group has turned into a Judas. It’s the only conclusion I can come up with, that makes any sense.”

  The President trying to feel a little more confident about this news speaking, “Let’s recap; we are fairly confident that we know the name of who wrote the letter. We are on the way to capture this individual and interrogate this individual to learn who initiated the letter.

  “We are going to hang him by his feet, if necessary, from the open door of a helicopter, until he tells us what we need to know. Then we are going to drop him. Kidding, I only know this because I saw it in one of those action flicks in the White House Theater last night. OK, we have a plan. Good work gentlemen, keep me up-to-date.”

  Pat stood to leave, “One more thing Mr. President., about the attempted murder of the Congressman. Director Lake and I thought it wise to make sure that it wasn’t remotely involved in our investigation.”

  “Your findings?”

  Lake answers, “Sir, we have found no link between the attempt and the conspiracy paper. We will let you know if this changes. Thank you Mr. President.”

  After the two left the Oval Office, they stood outside the West Wing entrance to discuss the next move.

  “Pat, I think that went well. Make sure that you let me know the result of the Arizona trip. Are you and Agent Watts heading back to Groom Lake today?”

  “No Sir, not just yet. Agent Watts and I are on our way to Houston to speak with the CEO of Execo Energy. I assigned the twins to dig deeper into the finances of Doyle Preston and Charles King. He was the conspirator that went by the name, Matthew.”

  “I recall them both.” Lake replied.

  “They found several questionable payments from Donald Rayburn to Charles King. King was a retained lawyer for Execo Oil; handling several injury cases for the company. The payments may be legit, but we need to make sure they meet the smell test.”

  “Pat, I would be careful dancing around Donald Rayburn. He has some deep pockets and an equal opportunity supporter when it comes to handing out political contributions. This has made him many influential friends i
n both houses of Congress. Let’s take his word unless we can turn up something different later.”

  “I understand. I promise that he will not end up blindfolded, in a black helicopter, headed to Area 51. Director, have you ever noticed that President Ward has a fetish about throwing people out of aircraft? First he wanted to throw out Hector Fuentes over Mexico. Afterward he mentioned having Lisa Grant thrown out of Air Force One on her way back to Washington. And now he wants to throw this suspect out of a helicopter. Remind me to ask Emily what’s up with that,” Pat said smiling.

  Director Lake didn’t reply; he shook his head and walked toward his car. After ten steps, he turned back toward Pat, “By the way, I told Groom Lake to inadvertently parade a few not-so-new inventions across the path of Mitchell Fields. Remind me when this thing is over, to send you, and your team, to “The Farm” for some serious CIA training. You guys are going to put me in an early grave.”

  -----

  To say Luke was unhappy with Gabriel’s failure to complete his mission was an understatement. He chastised Gabriel for using a child’s toy to carry out such an important task.

  Gabriel politely listened as Luke continued his dissection into what was wrong with both the plan, and the way Gabriel had performed it. Gabriel added the occasional yes, or no, to fill in milliseconds of silence between Luke’s breaths. He had never heard anyone talk so much, and say so little, in all of his life. After what seemed like hours to Gabriel, Luke finally said the words Gabriel had wanted to hear since the conversation began.

  “This is what we are going to do next; forget the second target; he is of no importance to us now. Is the Congressman still in the hospital?”

  Gabriel answered, “He never was admitted. The aide working with him that evening was admitted, and will have surgery tomorrow to take shrapnel out of his right hip. I also read the Congressman now has a protection detail assigned to him 24/7. Luke, this whole fiasco is my screw up; I can get to the Congressman if it is still a priority to you.”