by E L Russell
52
WWMD
October, the Q & A - Meret in the spotlight
The small audience of Directors and Special Agents reacted to her warning of an attack on the Homeland by clustering into scattered groups arguing among themselves. Meret knew there was only one thing she could do to restore order and unity. She turned to walk off the stage.
Within three paces the audience closest to the stage began to applaud. None cheered, but soon everyone stood to deliver a loud, respectful applause.
Meret waited in the wings while Director Davies walked to the center of the stage and raised an arm for the Directors to sit so he could begin his promised Q&A session. Dozens of hands vied for his attention.
He gestured to a man in the front row and nodded. “Tom?”
Davies echoed his questions. “Tom wants to know what we’re looking into and what’s our assessment for the next target?” He scratched his chin. “True, we’ve had a full day to work on this.” He nodded toward the light laughter coming from one section. “Good questions, Tom. As for their next target, we haven’t a clue, except to say whatever it is, it’s huge and it’s in the Homeland. My only hope is, now that we’re aware of its existence, our odds get better. I asked Dr. Mather to share with you her understanding of our future challenges and opportunities. Now that you had the bulleted items in her report on what happened on Socotra, I will begin the second session with the burning question I am faced with daily.” Director Davies folded his arms and rocked slowly in rhythm to his query. “We all want to know, what would Meret do? So I’ll ask her to take your questions” He extended his arm in invitation.
She took center stage and balled both hands over her stomach and stretched her fingers. “Director Davies asked me to share with you an opportunity that comes with this technology.” She started to pace but didn’t speak until the third pass. “Once we knew Osama bin Mohammed bin Awad bin Laden the infamous founder of al-Qaeda was responsible for the attacks of September 11, 2001, the INTELligence community wasn’t able to take him down until May 2, 2011. There are many good reasons that —”
The double doors to the auditorium burst open and several Special Agents entered followed by a tall, handsome Latino.
As six men vacated seats from the front row as on cue, Director Davies announced “Director Galvez, welcome.”
Meret reflexively took a step back from her position.
Davies continued. “Dr. Mather had just begun to speak to us about new INTELligence opportunities.”
DCIA Galvez acknowledged, waved a hand, and waited.
Meret retook her place center stage and began again. “Once we knew Osama bin Laden, the founder of al-Qaeda was responsible for the attacks of September 11, 2001, the INTELligence community wasn’t able to assassinate him until May 2, 2011. While there are many good reasons it took as long as it did, using the technology we have now, if we ever need to get eyes and ears on a person all we need is a copy of their DNA or in some special cases a microbiome profile would be sufficient.”
DCIA Galvez almost imperceptibly raised one finger keeping his wrist on the arm of the chair.
She gave a slight nod to his request for an explanation. “For example, some forensic friends in the NYPD recently ID’d a suspect from the trace of their microbiome patterns from their palm on a computer mouse. DNA is better, but not always available. We can program a micro bot,” she presented her golden pendent sitting on the back of her hand. “This is one that I will not demonstrate today for I believe at least six of you, following protocol, might be compelled to shoot it down.”
She laughed with the audience and then added, dryly, “Actually, you probably couldn’t as it can detect and avoid fast moving objects on collision course within three meters.” Patting her beetle, she continued. “In addition to audio and video surveillance, this beetle can obtain DNA trace, encode and upload the data to secure clouds for analysis. It can also spray or apply a smart killing virus—”
DCIA Galvez raised a finger.
Meret nodded and adjusted her pitch.
“—an SKV is a specially crafted virtual package. It is capable of locating and attacking people with specific DNA tags. All beetle bot controls are encrypted smart phone apps. The beetle has a capacity for three ounces of explosives such as Nitrogen Octaiodide.”
This time DCIA Galvez flashed a thumbs-up.
Meret started to speak and then stopped when DCIA Galvez stood.
The audience also stood, but instead of leaving, Galvez extended his arm to an aide who handed him a stick microphone. “Before I leave I must thank and congratulate the agency for the superb manner in which they have dealt with the Socotra Genecaust.” He turned to face the podium. “Director Davies, Doctor Mather, thank you for opening a door to a new challenge and possibly a new direction for INTELligence. You have my full support. God bless America.”
Within minutes the remaining audience ran through several questions that Director Davies handled leaving Meret, Steve, and Granger, alone to huddle up.
After closing the session, Director Davies, looking older than when Meret remembered, joined them and spoke quietly. “That went well. What are the loose ends we’ll need to close this? Steve?”
“We have three teams in Rome working with their police, INTERPOL, and SISMI, the Italian military secret service to pull in the Hacker, Henri Baudin, Granger’s Italian asset, Dr. Piero della Francesca, and Deborah Abboud, the daughter of Granger’s Yemen asset who was murdered. In addition, a persons of high interest are PSI Corps operatives Katya Savelievna Kornilova and Dr. Subash Sen.”
Davies cleared his throat. “Well, you know the drill, start putting action plans together addressing Who, What, Where, When, and How. Get as much sleep as you can, I’ll be calling a meeting early. Good luck.”
They watched their Director walk toward an exit flanked by two Special Agents.
Steve stretched his arms. “Well, normally I’d offer Granger the chance to buy the first round or two, but I’m turning in.” He looked at the two of them and grinned. “But you guys probably slept the whole flight over. Going to step out?”
Granger raised one eyebrow. “Sounds like a good idea, but Meret and I are headed for the taxi queue.”
The excitement of giving a presentation to DCIA Galvez, Director Davies and to her team, Steve and Granger, filled Meret’s thoughts and wove memories of the past three weeks into a spinning carrousel of images and sounds. Reflecting on her new life, she couldn’t imagine giving it up for mere sleep. Ever.
Her cell vied for attention and she glanced at the screen.
Granger’s voice barely caught her attention. “Aren’t you going to take that?”
“That’s Poppy calling from our office at the Zalea, I got it.” She accepted the call and walked slowly toward the cab queue. After a few seconds she said, “Poppy, you and your timing are amazing. Yes, confirm it. Make it open ended. Right. Yes. Yes. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Stopping to put her cell away, she faced Granger. “Sleep is low on my list of needs or wants.” She took his hand. “Stay with me tonight, we have so much to talk about.”
Granger pulled her close. “Do you want to grab a bite . . . first?”
She raised his hand to her lips, smiled and bit it softly. “And after that?”
He smiled and held her against him with both arms. “We’ll find a place to stay.”
With her forearms held against his chest she tapped the top button of his shirt with her fingers. “We have a place, thanks to Poppy, and now we’ll only need one cab.”
He grinned. “I must meet this woman. Come on, let’s get out of here before someone calls another meeting.”
Still holding hands, they slid into the back seat. Meret told the driver, “The Jefferson.”
Granger rolled his eyes in mock surprise, “Of course, it is.”
53
Washington Wake Up
November, conversation continues - obfuscation eschewed
He rolled on his back stretching. “It only shows when I smile.”
“Works for me.”
Still looking at the ceiling he said, “How long will you be staying?”
She propped herself up on her elbows. “You mean now, or how long have I booked the hotel? By the way, how’s your head?”
He rubbed his face “Well, both. Will you need any time today to get an apartment?”
She laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“I just remembered one of my favorite t-shirts, ‘eschew obfuscation.’ The company should hand them out.”
“I’m sorry.” He groaned. “Let’s not go to the office and let’s work from this suite. We can order in and have wild and crazy sex whenever.”
She bounced out of bed. “One condition, I want a shower followed by eggs, bacon, pancakes and coffee.”
He slid out of bed and raised one finger. “Agreed, but first, we shower . . . together.”
She touched a button on the bedside consul. “Good morning, Meret Mather here, send up two of your morning specials,” her eyes caught his, “tomato juice and lots of coffee,” and then she laughed, “in one hour, please.”
When the servers brought the cart Meret and Granger went to the table by the window with almost the same gusto as they did getting to the shower.
During the meal, they seldom spoke, content to sit wrapped in their white terry cloth robes, enjoying the quiet togetherness.
Granger sipped his tomato juice and commented, “Meret, I’m impressed by your fitness. What do you do to keep so trim?”
She grinned and mocked his admiration. “Lots of showers.”
“Touché, mon petit fleur.”
“I love to run. How about you?”
“MMA.”
She tossed her cloth napkin to the floor. “Best of five?”
They both laughed as the house phone rang. Meret frowned. “Before I answer this, as your doctor, I’m calling us in sick.”
He put his finger to his lips and touched the speaker phone.
“This is Dr. Mather.”
“Good morning, doctor. I am Charles, your concierge. We received some boxes for you from a private courier service addressed to me that needs your signature.”
“Who sent it?”
“Sorry, madame, it was shipped from a Poppy Smith-Essam staying at the Hotel Zalea in Houston. When would you prefer to receive it?”
“Now is perfect, Charles. Thank you.”
She closed the call. “Sorry for not waiting until we finished breakfast, but this whole thing, my staying here, is getting a bit more mysterious. I can’t imagine what Poppy would send? I wonder what her role in all this is?”
He shrugged and waved his open hands over his plate. “In my mind, this is all you. But as you say, it did happen a bit by magic. What do you think?”
She bit her cheek. “Pass the bagel, intrigue makes me hungry.”
He stood and sat the bread basket where she could reach it. “I’m going to slip into some casual clothes.”
She waited, glancing out the window, checking traffic on 16th from time to time.
The door bell chimed. The apartment’s security monitor showed a clothes and luggage cart with a uniformed doorman wearing a narrow rimmed hat accompanied by another man in a tailored black suit waiting outside her door.
“Please, come in.” She wished she had time to change from her robe.
The man I the hat immediately returned to the hallway and brought in another clothes cart filled with boxes.
The man in the black suit dismissed the man in the hat, turned, bowed slightly, and introduced himself. “I am you concierge, Charles Wells, we spoke on the phone. The courier insisted I sign for this, I hope you do not mind, they arrived a few hours ago. To be precise, at 2:45 last evening.” Giving her a sealed overnight letter he said, “Your assistant in Houston signed this on your behalf.” Then gave her his clipboard and a pen. After taking care of the paper work and the concierge, she called to Granger. “Come here, it looks like Poppy arranged for me to move in for a spell.”
“Thank you Charles. I believe I already signed for them. What’s in those boxes?”
“The boxes are from a Dr. Zhen Jianjun and are all marked for special handling. Your assistant told me to be especially careful and mindful of their contents.”
“Thank you Charles, thank you so much.”
Granger arrived from an adjoining room and sat with Meret at the breakfast table. He examined one of the unopened boxes while watching her open the sealed overnight letter. Poppy had taped a note to it.
He commented while rotating and checking each side of a small box. “Looks like Christmas came early. I recognize this packing. The company prepped and shipped this. What do we have here?”
She didn’t look up from her letter “Clothes for me from Poppy and Beetles and such from Zhen for you.”
“Ah, I see. What’s that in the special mail pouch?”
Meret looked at it and read it once more. “A great note from Poppy and something cryptic from the Colonel.”
“From your grandfather, the Colonel Elias Mather? What’s he say?”
She exhaled in frustration. “Here, you read it.” She held the folded paper in her hand. “See what you make of it.”
He read it aloud.
“Meret, I have learned of your recent work with the attack on Socotra and I am proud of what you have contributed. I know your consulting efforts will require you to spend long days in our Capitol. I approve your request to set up part of your company from the Jefferson Hotel. It is a smart Washington location and a smart move.”
Granger refolded the message and gave it back to her. “I can see why this troubles you. He’s not really clear about releasing your trust, but it sounds to me he supports you and is genuinely proud of what you accomplished.”
“He does, but aren’t you concerned that he even knows about it? Where did he get his information? Certainly not from me or Poppy. And how did he know I was staying at the Jefferson?”
“What else did Poppy send?”
She reached for his arm and shook it. “Thanks, I need to focus on the real problems we’re facing.” She walked toward the two coat racks. “Give me hand with some of the boxes. We’ll open them on the coffee table.”
After carefully reading the labeling and examining the taping, she cut open a small box about the side of a shoe box. Reaching in she pulled out a fistful of black slim cylinders. “Oh, my God, more of Zhen’s pens!”
Granger picked out a small business card. “Version 2.0 vibrates when held in the presence of an unknown signal and will not upload any audio or video unless the top third is held tightly. We increased the battery life time to ten hours of continuous running. Comes in three colors. Black, grey, and dark blue. - ZJ”
“Give me a black one and grab one of the larger boxes.”
She examined the box and found no labels. A few words were written with a fine point black Sharpie across one corner. “Bam-bam.” She placed the box on the chair next to her. “More beetle bots. Looks like three hundred to a box.”
Granger scratched his head. “Well, we have eight boxes of ‘em. With all the clothes Poppy sent, you could go out for two weeks in a different outfit each night.”
“Like we’re going to have the time.” She ran her hand down the line of dresses and assorted clothing hanging on the racks in clear plastic bags. “You know, these clothes weren’t shipped this way, Charles had them cleaned and pressed.”
“That reminds me, I need to grab some things from my place. Will you be okay putting your clothes up and storing the boxes until I return?”
“Hold on for a second.” She touched a button on the intercom. “Charles, did m
y grandfather arrange for a car to be in my service? . . . Good, Granger will be needing it in fifteen minutes. Is that possible? . . . Good, thank you, Charles.” She walked slowly toward him and grinned on one side of her face. “Charles says you got a town car in your favorite shade of black, 24/7 with a driver named George. Gratuity included.”
After hanging her clothes and putting all the boxes in one clothes rack, she began to examine one of Zhen’s new pens when the house phone rang.
“Charles here, madam, I have two of our house security personnel waiting to escort a young woman to your room. Will you receive her? She refuses to give me her name.”
“Thank you, Charles. Answer yes or no, is she a blonde?”
“Yes.”
“Send her up. Put me on hold until she’s on her way . . . ”
“Charles, madam. They have entered the elevator. What do you need me to do?”
“If she’s who I think she is, she is a person of interest in an ongoing CIA case. Charles, you know I consult for the CIA.”
“Yes madam.”
“Alert security. If she is that person, I’ll touch your call button twice. I’d like hotel security to quietly cover this apartment after she’s in my room. If she is spooked she’ll do anything to get away, including harming herself. Can you set up that kind of clandestine security support?”
“Yes, madam. The staff is acquainted with that level of security. I’ll arrange it now and await your signal. Anything else, madam?”