Disruption: A River Of Secrets And Betrayal

by J. B. Jamison

  "So, his being shot..."

  "Was all part of the plan, yes. We got him on the boats so he could learn what he needed to get the job here. You said he didn't socialize much. After working his watch, he had to go to bed to deal with the pain; his leukemia had become more difficult over the past two months. For a while, we were concerned that he wouldn't be able to make this trip, but he insisted. This was his way to do one more thing he hoped would help someone."

  "I had no idea."

  "I know Frank. None of us know everything that is going on here; that's how it has to be done. Now go get some sleep. We need you at your best. Remember, business as usual."

  "Yeah, business as usual."

  They shook hands as Frank stepped from the galley.

  Chapter 34

  "You knew I would be here, didn't you?" He smiled as he pulled out the chair and sat at the table. "You knew I couldn't resist finding out just what the heck you were talking about yesterday."

  His grandfather smiled and took a long sip from what looked to be some kind of coffee and chocolate thing.

  "I'm glad you're here."

  "So, what is this big mystery you want to talk about?"

  The older man's eyes narrowed, "First, go get yourself something to drink. I told my friend up there to fix you up one of my special drinks; here, use my card."

  His eyes never left his grandson as he watched him walk to the counter and return with his mug. He was certainly the right man for the role, but was it really the right thing to do? And was this the right time? He knew the boy would grow into this man, and at some point, he would assume the role. But was this the time?

  "I'm not sure just what this is, but it looks good," the grandson slid back into his seat as he took a first sip. "Oh yeah, excellent. You know your coffee like you know your fish."

  "Ronnie, are you sure about this?" He was clearly not asking about the coffee.

  "Well, yeah. I am. I mean, if there is a way I can do something to make more of a difference; you know, to do things that might have real meaning; then yeah, I want to know more about it."

  "I know Ronnie. But this is not like something you read from a book, like the seven steps to making a difference. It’s not something you learn and then bring it out and use when you need to. Honestly, it will change everything in your life. You need to be sure you want that."

  "You said it would not hurt my family."

  "Yes, this will have no direct impact on them or anyone else for that matter. The changes will be in you."

  The younger man's eyes narrowed.

  "I know what you are thinking. I remember having this conversation myself with my grandfather, and I began to wonder if the old man had lost his mind. But as he talked, I began to think that if he had done this, then it was something I wanted to do as well."

  Silence as they both examined the froth on their coffee.

  "So, you've been doing this, this role?"

  "For some 60 years now, yes."

  "Well then, that's good enough for me."

  "Just one more thing Ronnie. As I said, everything will change, including our relationship."

  The old man looked into his grandson's eyes.

  "We will share things that no one around us will ever share; think and feel things that no one around us will ever think or feel. To others, nothing will change. But for us, there will be things that only you and I will know about and understand. And Ronnie, some of those will be hard things, difficult and sometimes painful things. We will live with them and will carry them with us, and no one around us will know. But we will have each other, and you will find that is more than enough."

  "And we will make a difference?"

  "More than you have ever imagined."

  "I'm ready."

  "One last thing before you agree. If you take this step, you must understand that you can never turn back from it; never give up the role once you have learned of it. No matter how difficult it might become, you cannot walk away from it."

  "Grandpa, is this illegal?"

  The old man showed a broad and satisfied smile.

  "There now, that is the Ronnie I was counting on. That is the question that should be asked; excellent. No, there are no laws against anything you will do in this role. Do you have any other questions?"

  "Just one. You decided to accept the role when your grandfather offered it to you. Looking at it today, did you make the right choice?"

  The smile remained.

  "Ronnie, I'll admit there have been times it has been difficult, but yes, I know I made the right choice."

  "Then it is my choice too."

  They stood, the grandfather embraced his grandson and looked into his eyes once again.

  "Then it shall begin."

  The grandfather turned, walked to the door and was gone. Ronnie reached for his mug and saw the note on the napkin.

  "Tomorrow, 7:00am, here."

  Chapter 35

  Some FBI agents have a look that makes them ideal candidates for undercover work; a natural look that can blend into a crowd, unnoticed and at ease. Agent Arturo Dasilva was not that kind. He was one of those agents who could walk into a room stark naked, yet everyone would say, "There's a cop."

  And Agent Dasilva had no problem with that. It went along with his commitment to the book; to following orders and making every effort to see that others did the same. Since entering the academy, he had excelled at most everything presented to him. When he met another agent who showed the right level of ability and commitment, Dasilva would do everything in his power to support and guide that agent. But when his path crossed an agent he saw as less than able or committed, he took it as his responsibility to remove that blight from his agency.

  To Agent Arturo Dasilva, Emily Graham fell somewhere between those two positions. She seemed capable, and to have a commitment to the agency, but there was something wrong. They had entered the academy at the same time, but now he was in a big office in the D.C. headquarters, and she was in a regional office, certainly not a hotbed of criminal activity. He had been puzzled when he heard she had requested that placement. Whatever the problem was, he had already taken the steps to avoid having to deal with Agent Graham during this trip.

  Even with his poker skills, Agent Dasilva had to focus to avoid showing his reaction as he entered the conference room and saw her at the table. He made the necessary introductions, until he came to Lennie, with Agent Graham at his side.

  "Special Agent Ryan, it’s good to see you again. The last time was Chicago if I recall." Dasilva shook Lennie’s hand.

  "Agent Dasilva,” Lennie said. “I hope you had a good flight."

  Dasilva's eyes had already left this conversation and were focused on Emily. The eyes narrowed and the smile on his mouth mutated to something different.

  "And Agent Graham I believe. How nice to see you."

  The handshake was more of a grip that did not end.

  "Please accept my condolences for the loss to your team. Agent Masterson was a very good man."

  It was partly the unending grip, partly the tone of voice, and partly the look in his eyes that caused Emily to grit her teeth.

  "Thank you."

  "But I am somewhat confused. I believe I was quite clear about following regulations in this situation. You do recall the agency's policy regarding proper response to personal loss?"

  "Yes sir, I understand the regulations."

  "Ah good." He released her hand and turned his gaze to the rest of the room as if she had suddenly disappeared. "Then we won't keep you."

  Moments later, He looked back from the group and saw her still there.

  "Is there a problem Agent Graham?"

  "I asked Emily to remain in the meeting this morning," Lennie said. "We both understand the regulations fully, sir, but Agent Graham is one of the few people who has been involved in this situation since it began, and may provide important details. I believe regulations allow for this type of exception when circumstances war
rant it."

  Dasilva smiled.

  "Of course. If Agent Graham should have something meaningful to offer, we certainly want to give her that opportunity."

  Dasilva turned away. Emily punched Lennie on the shoulder as they exchanged smiles.

  "Thanks."

  "No problem. I meant what I said. But after this meeting, you really do need to get away for a while. Ok?"

  "Sure Lennie; whatever you say."

  Lennie knew better.

  As he found his seat at the table, Agent Dasilva took a moment to make brief eye contact with each person and began.

  "Good morning everyone. Thank you for being on time."

  Good mornings echoed all around the table.

  "We have a lot to cover here, so let's get to it. But first I want to explain that, even though regulations are quite clear about the matter, I have asked Agent Graham to participate in our meeting this morning. She has been involved in things since soon after they began, so she may have some insight to offer. I am happy to see Agents Goodwin and Renshaw here from the NRC as well since they bring that same overall perspective."

  He paused and looked at papers in his hand.

  "I was just given an update from the NRC regarding the canisters that have been recovered containing the radioactive elements. As you know, those types of elements have what are called signatures, which can be used to identify where the elements are from."

  Everyone around the table knew at least as much about radioactive signatures as Agent Dasilva; most of them far more.

  "Unfortunately, in our case, there appear to be numerous signatures identified, suggesting that we actually have a diverse mix of elements being used in these devices."

  "We sometimes refer to that as a casserole." Agent Goodwin said.

  "Yes, thank you, Agent, uh, Goodwin. What is important is that it means it will take longer to trace these signatures. So, we'll have to wait to see what we might learn there."

  "But why would someone use this casserole approach? Is there an advantage to it?" The question came from a local agency member looking directly at Agent Goodwin. Goodwin turned to Agent Dasilva.

  Dasilva nodded, "Go right ahead Agent Goodwin, this is in your area, not mine."

  "There's not necessarily an advantage to it. It probably just means these people collected whatever radioactive materials they could find and put them together to make the devices. It is difficult to collect enough material to create this type of device, which is the primary reason we've not seen more of this kind of thing. It’s not technically difficult to build an RDD, hell, the instructions are on the Internet. The problem is finding enough stuff to put in them."

  A buzzing sound was heard. This time Lennie forgot to turn off his cell phone. He nodded at the grins around the table. Even Dasilva smiled; sort of. Lennie got up from the table, listened, then sat back down.

  "They've found another device; this one under Hale Boggs."

  Silence; then everyone spoke at once.

  "A second device?" Agent Dasilva said.

  "Yes. They're ninety percent sure. It’s buried three or four feet in the mud, but there are traces of the same kinds of radiation as the first device. It’s a lot weaker, which could be the mud, or could be because this one isn't damaged." Lennie reviewed the stream of messages hitting his phone, and now hitting everyone else's as well.

  "I'm being told another team believes they may have something up at Sunshine as well." Agent Goodwin said.

  "What the fuck..." Someone said it. Everyone thought it.

  "Their sensors show something in the mud, about the right size, but it’s deeper and better covered. It’s actually kind of funny."

  All eyes turned to Agent Goodwin.

  "Excuse me?” Dasilva said. “Please help me understand the humor in this situation Agent Goodwin."

  "Well, maybe funny isn't the right word. But, we found the first canister by accident while we were testing one of the sensors, right? Well, this time, they were pulling the sensor under the Sunshine Bridge when the coupling came loose, so the sensor came loose and fell to the bottom, partly burying itself in the mud. That's when it pinged the radiation. If it hadn't broken loose, we wouldn't have gotten the ping. Maybe not funny, but quite a coincidence."

  Silence.

  "Ok people, let's get on top of this." Agent Dasilva said. "This makes two known devices and a third possible."

  "Probable." Agent Renshaw said.

  "A third probable, yes. So, I think it’s clear that we need to take this to the next level. Agent Goodwin, do your people have the resources available to fully identify and secure these new devices, and do a full search of more bridges?"

  "No sir, not under these circumstances. Our normal task is to scan materials in the harbor, onboard ships, on the docks, not under fifteen feet of water and another six feet of mud. As I said, our role so far has been a coincidence."

  "Then who does?"

  Goodwin and Renshaw put their heads together, joined by three or four others.

  Goodwin finally turned back to the table, "Sir, under these conditions, we believe the best option is to ask the NNSA to send an ARG Initial Response Team. No one else has their resources and experience with this kind of thing."

  Heads nodded all around the table.

  "For those who aren't familiar," Goodwin looked around the table, "the Accident Response Group is a team from the National Nuclear Security Administration that is ready to respond to any accident or significant incident involving nuclear weapons, providing three phases of action. Phase one is the initial response, which involves sending a six-person team to find the weapons and conduct an initial risk assessment. Phase two, the recovery operation, usually involves thirty-eight people with the ability to conduct a twelve-hour operation to safely recover the weapons. Phase three, or follow-on response, involves thirty-four people who expand the previous phases to fully remove and dispose of the nuclear weapon."

  Goodwin paused.

  "That seems pretty extreme Agent Goodwin," said Dasilva. "Are you sure we need to take that kind of step at this point?"

  "Sir, as we speak, we have one detonation that requires cleanup, and may have two devices sitting under two major bridges in the New Orleans metropolitan area, each filled with casseroles of radioactive materials, fully capable of blowing themselves up and spreading those elements over a large part of the river, and the shore around it. Those need to be secured. And let's be blunt, we've only looked at three bridges so far, and all three had devices. There are three more bridges even closer to the city that we've not looked under. And even if we could find these things ourselves, we have no idea what to do with them. The best approach we tried so far has cost us three lives. Yes, I believe the situation is extreme enough now."

  Agent Dasilva paused.

  "Then that's what we do."

  The table erupted again in side conversations and instant messaging, as Dasilva continued.

  "Ok, that addresses the next step for the devices. There is another issue we need to pursue, and that is what we do to find out who is creating these devices and just how they are getting them into the water. Agent Ryan, where do we stand on that?"

  Dasilva knew exactly where things currently stood. He had read the reports on the plane. He knew that the one solid lead had turned out to be some guy moving furniture and that no other key evidence had been uncovered. But this provided an opportunity to repay Lennie for his action with Agent Graham.

  Lennie described the work that had been done, including Mr. Joey Santiago. He described the directions being taken in the investigation, and the expertise of all those involved.

  "So, if I understand you correctly," Agent Dasilva said, "eighteen hours after beginning this investigation, we still don't actually know anything about what is going on, who is behind it and why. Is that correct?"

  "I wouldn't put it that way, but..."

  "I mean no disrespect Agent Ryan, I know the capabilities of the agency and am fully co
nfident that you are doing everything you have been trained to do in a situation like this. And I also realize that while the FBI has control of this investigation, it is only one of the groups attempting to solve this puzzle."

  Dasilva paused to look around the table.

  "I just don't understand why nothing has been found yet, not one substantial clue. Its not like these people, whoever they are, are invisible or something."

  A synapse sparked somewhere in the depths of Emily's brain. All she noticed was the desire to squirm in her seat as her heart rate increased and her muscles tensed. She blamed it on the comments being made by Agent Arturo Dasilva.

  "With all of the videos available, all of the ability to monitor the transportation of radioactive materials, with all of the resources we have available to us, it is difficult to see how someone could just stroll right through a major city, putting bombs under our bridges, without anyone even seeing them."

  Emily's eyes widened as the neuron chain reached her consciousness. Just like her heart rate and tension, she heard herself automatically saying, "It’s a boat."

  Only Lennie heard it, and he turned to her, "What did you say?"

  Agent Dasilva paused to recognize Lennie's unprofessional interruption.

  "Lennie, it’s a boat. It's a goddamn boat. That's how they're doing it."

  "Are you sure? How do you know?"

  "I know. Its a boat."

  "Excuse me, Agents,” Dasilva said. “Is there something you want to share with the rest of us here?"

  "It’s a boat. That's how they're doing it. A boat." Emily's eyes were wide.