first real glimpse of the carnage. Pheelar had been shot in the face. One eye was dangling out of its socket. Felicia had three black and bloody spots on her shirt. The big black man had been shot five or six times in the torso. The black man in the hall had been shot in the head twice. Lynda’s stomach gurgled again and she dry-heaved.
They hurried out the room door. A voice said. “Hey, you can’t leave!”
Marilyn flashed her badge at everybody in sight. Lynda and Marilyn ran for the elevator.
They rode the elevator down a floor, and when the door opened, four youngsters and their mother were about to get on. They all backed up in fear when they saw Lynda. She and Marilyn ran down the hall to her room. Lynda opened the door and Marilyn pushed her inside.
Back in her room, Lynda stripped off her clothes and threw them in the corner. She stood there in front of Marilyn examining herself. She could find nothing but bruises. She went in the bathroom and turned the hot water in the shower on. She stepped into the shower and washed her hair and face, and then the rest of her body. She kept washing and washing. Finally Marilyn came in and said, “You need to hurry up; we have to go back.” Lynda rinsed off one more time, then shut the water off. Marilyn handed her a white towel. Lynda dried off and went to her bag. She pulled out a bra and panties and put them on. Then she sat on the bed and started to cry.
Marilyn hugged her and said, “It’s okay, let it all out.” She got Lynda some Kleenex and held it up to her nose. Lynda took the Kleenex and blew her nose. She stood up, took some deep breaths, and put on clean shorts and a tee shirt. She put on clean socks and her tennis shoes. Her tennis shoes had specks of blood on them but were not bad.
There was a knock at the door. Lynda cringed in fear. Marilyn looked through the peephole, and said, “It’s just Bobby, we’re okay!”
Marilyn opened the door, and Bobby eased into the room. He was looking both ways down the hall. He said, “Who would have thought that they would go after the kids?” He looked at Lynda and asked, “How are you holding up, kiddo?”
Lynda was able to smile at Bobby, but just barely. She couldn’t answer him. Bobby took Lynda by the arm, and said, “We have to go back. They want to question you.”
“What do I tell them?” Lynda asked
“Tell them the truth, do not lie about anything. Everything important died with Billy...!” Bobby stopped when he realized what he had said. He went on, “You are an undercover agent of the US government, without your badge, okay? You need to memorize this: your badge number is 276385, got it?”
Lynda said, “276385, I got it.”
The three agents went to the elevator and rode it back up to the next floor. A detective was waiting on them. He took Lynda down the hallway, and pulled out a small notebook and a handheld recorder. He turned the recorder on and stuck it in his shirt pocket, where the mike stuck out. He opened his notebook and said, “Tell me the whole story. Start at the beginning.”
Lynda said, “My name is Lynda Lassiter, I am a US government agent, undercover. My badge number is 276385. We were finishing up a job here, and we got word that Pheelar’s father had been shot. I came to his room to see if Pheelar was all right and we talked, then Agent Billy Mitchell came into the room with Felicia, Pheelar’s older sister. They were only in the room a few minutes when we heard shooting in the hallway.”
Lynda went on and told him the rest of the story. The detective asked her a number of other questions, most of which she could not answer. She had no idea why they had all been shot.
It was early afternoon before the bodies were all hauled off. The three agents went to the hotel coffee shop and had a light lunch. Lynda could barely eat. When she finally did, it nearly came back up. She wound up just drinking iced tea. Marilyn had the keys to Billy’s rental car, and she turned them in at the hotel desk. Then they boarded the helicopter and flew to the airport, where the government jet was waiting on them to take them back to Dallas. Lynda slept the hour that it took to get home. Marilyn said, “Lynda, we have to go to the office and be debriefed. That will take a couple of hours, then you can go home and take a few days off.”
Tom was waiting for them in his office. It was a solemn two-hour debriefing. At the end of the meeting he handed Lynda a case. In the case were her badge and her ID. Tom told her, “Lynda, take off as many days as you need. They will be with pay.”
She went home and told her mother and father all about “the job.” Her mother gave her a sleeping pill and she slept the rest of the day, and all night.
The next morning she was up, but was not her usual bouncy self. She saw the mailman coming. She went out to the mailbox, and when Dennis hung his face out the window, she slapped him. She said, “That is for being married and cheating on your wife!” She took the mail and prissed back into the house. Dennis rubbed his face and watched her, shaking his head as he drove on.
The rest of the day, Lynda just hung out with her mother. She told her what a good man Billy was, how she trusted him, and now he was dead. She broke down and cried several times. Lynda’s mother was constantly comforting her.
Lynda took two days off and then returned to “the office.” Tom welcomed her back. He said, “We weren’t sure if you would come back!” Bobby and Marilyn were both in the office. Wayne came in late. Everyone gave Lynda a big hug.
Marilyn said, “Lynda, you don’t know how good it was to see you move. I thought you were both dead.”
Lynda said, “I was glad when you pulled me out. I am just sorry that Billy died saving me.”
Bobby said, “We are all sorry about Billy; Marilyn and I were supposed to be protecting you guys, and we let you down. We are both very sorry.”
“As far as I am concerned, you have nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t your fault,” Lynda replied.
Tom took charge. “Guys, we need to get back to work. Billy’s funeral is tomorrow. We will all go. Lynda, I want you to start a firearms class this afternoon, so that we can get you certified to carry a gun.”
Lynda was sort of excited, but mostly scared. She had never handled a gun, much less fired one.
There were more statements that had to be taken care of and details of the “crime scene” that had to be straightened out. Mainly red tape, they all said. Lynda was assigned a desk, and she had to get all the paper, pens and stuff required when one gets a desk. She set up her own filing system, but had very little to file. A tech guy came in and set up her computer. She could now check her email from work. She wondered if she could play games on this computer. She giggled strangely.
Wayne asked her to go to lunch with him, so Lynda did. Wayne was a nice-looking man with light brown hair, green eyes and a small mustache. He was thirty-eight years ol,d and was single. Lynda immediately liked his wit and charm. He was a smooth talker, she noticed.
During lunch he said, “I am so sorry about Billy. I have questions as to why the back-up detail wasn’t there.”
Lynda said, “I guess I was the back-up detail, but I did not have a gun.”
Wayne said, “No, I meant why Marilyn and Bobby weren’t there. Where were they?”
Lynda got the idea that Wayne was pumping her for information, but she had none to give him.
They finished lunch and walked back to the office together. Not much was said between them during the walk.
After getting back to the office she met the firearms specialist. He was about fifty, short, and somewhat on the heavy side. He wore glasses and a hearing aid. His name was Pete. He showed her a number of guns and asked her which one she wanted. Lynda said, “You pick one for me; I have no idea what I should carry.”
Pete picked a snub-nosed thirty-eight special for her personal weapon that would fit in her purse. It had a six-shot cylinder and came with two extra cylinders. He showed her how to load it and unload it. Then he showed her how take it apart and clean it. Late in the day, they went to an in
door gun range and he let her shoot the gun. He told her that the day after Billy’s funeral they would work on other handguns and assault rifles. It was obvious to Lynda that Pete was quite fond of her.
She had not worked at this job a full week, and she was already carrying a gun. She was also issued two boxes of ammunition and a bulletproof vest.
Tom cornered Lynda and said that the next week, she would work with a self-defense instructor all week long. Lynda was so busy that she forgot about Billy being shot.
The next morning she wore her black and white suit to work. They car-pooled to the church, and attended Billy’s funeral. She and Marilyn both broke down and cried. It was a closed casket funeral. Billy’s family seemed lost by the tragedy. His real sister was there. She looked a lot like Lynda.
Billy’s mother came up to Lynda and said, “I understand that my son died saving your life!”
Lynda was stunned. She said, “Yes, ma’am, that is correct.”
His mother said, “Then he must have thought you were special. Make something wonderful of your life. Don’t let my son die in vain.”
Lynda hugged Billy’s mother tightly, and they both cried.
When the agents got back to the office, they all had a meeting in the break room. Tom said, “I know this sounds rough, but I have to start looking for a replacement for Billy right away. Sorry, guys.”
Bobby said, “Good luck, Tom. I don’t think you can replace Billy.”
Tom said, “You are right, but I have to try.”
They talked some more about “the incident,” and Lynda noticed that they were letting her do most of the talking. She was okay with that; she realized that it was good therapy for her. She retold her complete story of Pheelar and Felicia, leaving out the intimacy shown by Billy toward Felicia. She did her best to make Billy out to be a hero.
The next morning she was back with Pete. He explained the difference between a pistol and semi-automatic handgun. He told her why each was better in its own way. Then he handed her a rifle. It was an M-16. He showed her how to take it apart and clean it. Then they went to the range and Lynda shot the rifle. By the end of Friday, she felt like a different person around guns. Finally Pete gave her a three-eighty pocket gun as a back-up weapon. He also assigned her a forty-caliber semi-automatic gun as her official handgun. Lynda now had more guns than she knew what to do with.
She worked the rest of the week with Pete. He taught her how to make “head and body” shots. She shot at so many different targets. She was certain that she could shoot someone, if she absolutely had to.
The following Monday morning, she showed up in stretch pants and a tee shirt. She was ready for the self-defense course. The morning was all book work, studying the rules of self-defense. She did not know there were rules, but there were. She spent the entire week with the instructor. He taught her so much. They jogged together twice a day. He started her on a regimen of lifting weights. After five days of intense work-outs she could really tell that her muscles had “hardened.” She went through the office asking if anyone wanted to feel her biceps. All the men did, and complimented her on her efforts.
Lynda wasn’t afraid of anyone after the week was over.
The next week was all office time. She had to learn many new computer programs. She reviewed cases that the group was assigned to. Tom told her that on the next Monday, she would be going to Istanbul, Turkey to work in a field office for thirty days. She would be allowed to take her gun with her. They were not sending her into harm’s way, but as she had seen, you never knew when danger might strike.
Lynda did not arrive in Istanbul until Tuesday afternoon. It was a very long flight. She was met at the terminal by a young girl holding up a sign with her name on it. She introduced herself, and the girl took her to a shabby-looking office building. There was one American-looking person in the entire building. He was about thirty, and was completely worn out. He greeted her and told her that she would have to man the phones that night so he could get some rest. He had worked three days non-stop.
Lynda had no idea what answering the phones might be like, but she was game. She was pretty tired herself, but figured she could catch a nap here and there. That’s what she thought anyway. There were either calls leaving messages, or people checking for messages. By the time Ben came back to work on Wednesday morning, she was totally exhausted.
Ben took over at sun-up, and Lynda dragged herself to the hotel and to bed. She did not even shower, just went straight to bed. The bed wasn’t the nicest that she had ever been on, but it did its job.
She was up late in the afternoon, and went and ate at a local restaurant. She was not impressed with the food.
She went in to the office and saw Ben. He was answering the phones. When there was a break in the phones, she asked him, “Is this all that I am going to do for a month?”
Ben replied, “I hope not. Normally we have three girls that answer the phones. But they all took holiday at the same time. They should be back tomorrow. In a few days I will show you the ropes.” At sundown, Lynda took over from Ben. There were not as many calls as the night before. She was ecstatic. She actually had some time to herself.
The next morning at eight, a young girl showed up and took over from Lynda. Lynda headed to the hotel. She was not nearly as tired. She slept for a few hours, then went back to the office.
Ben was there. He was lounging in a chair, but jumped up when he saw her. He took her all around the office and showed her each individual cubicle, like he was proud of each one. Then he took her to dinner. The food was much better this time. After the meal he took her for a ride around town. He showed her the buildings that agencies of other countries used, and explained how they spied on each other. He said, “We spy on them and they spy on us, and we all know it and put up with it. There are very few ‘real’ secrets in this business.”
Lynda asked, “Can I spy on someone?”
Ben said, “Sure. We are being spied on right now.” And he pointed at a camera on a building across the street.
Lynda squirmed in her seat and said, “This is so exciting.” She waved at the camera.
Ben said, “I am sure that someone as attractive as you will cause quite a stir around here.”
He dropped her off at her hotel. Lynda went to her room, and went to put the key in the lock, when she noticed that the door was cracked open. She backed up, took the gun out of her purse, and pushed the door open with her foot. No one was in the room. But someone had clearly been through her things. She checked it all out. Nothing was missing. She shut the door, locked it, and put a chair under the doorknob. She went and took a shower. She felt that she had been violated though. She had trouble going to sleep, and woke up at every little sound.
The next morning she complained to the hotel manager. But she got the idea that it would do no good. Apparently that was a common occurrence.
She told Ben about it. He seemed to think that if nothing was missing that it was a pro’s job. “They are just trying to see who you are and what you are doing; I don’t think it was a common everyday hoodlum.”
Lynda’s anger was not suppressed by his comment either. She told Ben, “If I catch anyone in my room, I intend to shoot them.”
Ben shrugged his shoulders and said, “Just make sure that they are in your room. If they are not, drag them in.”
That evening she was walking back to the hotel when she noticed a car stopping right behind her. She turned and saw two men getting out. Something about the way they were looking at her made her pull her purse up close to her stomach. She reached inside it and fingered the gun. She heard footsteps behind her and she swirled around, and pointed the big hand gun at Ben and another man. They both stopped and held their hands up. Ben said, “Hold on, Lynda. We came to pick you up. There is a message for you from Tom back at the center.”
She put the gun back in her purse and took a d
eep breath. She said, “Geez, Ben, you scared the hell out of me. Why didn’t you call out to me?”
“Sorry, I thought you would recognize me,” Ben said. “You looked right at us!”
“That’s okay, I will get over it!” Lynda breathed. She walked back to the car and got in the backseat with Ben. “What did the message say?” she asked.
Ben told her about the message, then said, “You had better read it yourself.”
They drove back to the center and the three men and Lynda got out and went inside. Ben handed Lynda the manila envelope. She read the directive.
“Lynda, tomorrow at noon a Chinese ship will dock at the port of Bakirkoy. Its manifest shows that it will be unloading automobiles. Verify contents and get back to me ASAP. Tom.”
“He doesn’t say much, does he,” Lynda exclaimed.
“You have to read between the lines,” Ben said. “What he means is, there is something hidden on that ship, and you need to find it.”
“Me? By myself?” Lynda was more startled.
“We are at your service,” Ben said. “Since this is obviously your first mission, you had better let me lead, and you pay close attention.”
“Thank you,” Lynda said.
“We know that port well. A lot of smuggling goes on through there.” Ben went on, “We need a good distraction. You show up early tomorrow in a bright red mini-skirt with a low cut blouse. You need to wear panty hose and high heels. Did you bring anything like that?”
“No, I didn’t,” Lynda said.
“I will take you to a clothing store and we will get you properly dressed. You will be our distraction while we check out the contents,” Ben said.
Lynda folded up the letter and put it back in the envelope.
She and Ben went to the store. She bought three different skirts and blouses and both red and black high heels. She was again glad that her mother had shown her the correct way to walk.
They drove back to the station, and Lynda tried all three sets of clothes on. She modeled for the men. She was a little uncomfortable, but they did not make any rude remarks. There were three different shades of panty hose; she picked “nude.”
Ben said, “Yep, you look good in the red skirt and white top. We have some jewelry in here for you to dress up in.” He went to a safe and opened it. He came back with a diamond necklace and bracelet, as well as some very fancy rings. They all fit Lynda like they were made for her.
They all set at a table and laid out a plan. Lynda would distract the guard by pretending to be a drunk American college student that was lost, and Ben and his assistant would go over the contents that had been unloaded. Lynda would have the hardest job; she would have to keep the guard busy for a long time.
The next morning they drove
CIA - The Slave Traders Page 5