As the mercury-vapor sodium bulbs slowly illuminated the area, the men saw the dark shape of the YO-3A sitting in the middle of the floor. McGee instantly realized it wasn’t the same aircraft he saw years ago in the delivery hangar. Hunter and Lynche admired the view of the airplane that saved their lives. The paint appeared to suck all light from the quickening bulbs, because the matte finish didn’t reflect any of the light from the overhead lights.
As the view improved, Lynche was reminded of a Broadway play and how the lights transitioned from dark to partial illumination in minutes, with an ever-growing spotlight on the stage.
Saul Ferrier loved the unintended consequences of the slow lighting system. Some suggested he had a flair for theatrics and installed the system just for that purpose. The real reason was more for safety and expense. Mercury-vapor sodium bulbs were standard for hangars with fueled aircraft, and they were cheap. Ferrier built the hangar when he and Greg signed the deal to produce the SA2-37B for the CIA and State Department. The successor to the prototype YO-3A was a rugged, handmade, handsome feat of engineering excellence, hence the term, “special-purpose low-noise-profile airplane.”
The hangar not only protected the special-purpose aircraft from weather but served as an enclosed space in which to assemble the disparate unclassified pieces from the factory into a functional classified aircraft. A handful of mechanics with top-secret clearances installed wings, horizontal stabilizers, and the special propellers. Deemed the Vault, it was used to store, repair, or disassemble the unique spy places. The hangar also held one of the few CIA-approved SCIFs outside the Washington, DC area. Entry was limited to those who had Special Access and need to know. Helping to restrict the viewing public from observing the factory’s internal workings and its aircraft testing and deliveries, Lynche in his former assignment staffed some overhead restrictions of Elmira’s airport with the three-letter agencies. The NRO and NGA approved the security measures and ensured commercial activities couldn’t get better than one-meter resolution satellite photographs of the little factory that produced the quietest airplanes in the free world.
When briefing key government personnel, Ferrier or Lynche said, “Area 51 and this airport are protected out to 100-meter resolution.” Anyone trying to view the Elmira Airport from satellite photographs would be confused and disappointed when they saw nothing but vague shades. The US government hadn’t enabled that area for some reason.
The government went to extraordinary lengths to ensure overhead resources were unable to take usable pictures of the SA2-37B when the aircraft was finally moved outside for testing. It wasn't until late 2009, when production of that airplane ended, that the moratorium on satellite coverage was lifted.
Saul Ferrier’s love for all the things related to the development of powered gliders led to one of the most creative work spaces aviators ever saw. As lighting completely flooded the hangar floor, McGee saw, suspended from the ceiling, the original “Quiet Thruster” QT-2 Prize Crew and the Q-Star, the first-generation of quiet aircraft developed with Lockheed in the late 1960s. A four-foot-wide mosaic band of classified photographs of the QT programs and all the testing created a line of demarcation across the hangar’s three walls.
Lynche and Hunter walked toward the repaired, remanufactured YO-3A with appreciation and whistles. Lynche's deck shoes squeaked with every step.
“Yes, she’s ready,” Ferrier said. “We think the laser-cut carbon-fiber panels will add at least fifteen knots to the top end. We finished putting in the armored panels and seats today.”
Ferrier turned to McGee. “Bill, this is our shrine to these amazing aircraft. The Green Room’s over there. Opposite that is the SCIF. The shitter’s down the hall. I’ll be right back.”
Saul Ferrier went through an unmarked door with a cipher lock and returned two minutes later. “I disabled the alarm in the Green Room. It’s all yours. I’ll leave you to your business. Have you had any food?”
“Food?” Hunter asked.
“I vote Italian,” Lynche said.
“Paisano’s,” Hunter begged.
“What else is there?” Ferrier chuckled at their expressions. “Bill?”
McGee stopped walking, arms akimbo, mesmerized by the two aircraft suspended from the ceiling. “Those are the weirdest goddamn airplanes I ever saw. People actually flew those?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
2225 June 9, 2011
Schweizer Aircraft Company
Three men filed into the room carrying bags, boxes, and drinks, setting them on the small conference table.
“So you think you know?”
“It’s more a point of interest that may explain a possible motive. The DCI has a long history of abusing little boys.”
“That might do it if it mattered,” Lynche said. “Isn’t the fuck openly gay?”
“What if some of those boys grew up and flew jets into the World Trade Center….”
“Holy shit.”
“…and the Pentagon?”
“Are you serious?” McGee asked.
“I am. The president might know, too.”
McGee waved his arms to invite more. “From the top?”
“Nazy had been assigned deputy chief of station in Dubai,” Hunter began, “able to come and go to and from the US embassy for almost two years, developing incredible intel on the highly secret groups supporting al-Qaeda as well as other terrorist and radical groups. She was mentioned in dispatch weekly.
“Her network of women in Dubai, Abu Dhabi, Riyadh, and Jeddah provided bits of information that, taken together, gave pieces of the puzzle of the secret lives of princes, kings, sheiks, and their friends. Most of Prince Bashir’s friends were obviously Arabs who, whenever they could get together, were offered the customary tea and parties.
“For Bashir’s American friends, they were offered pretty young men and even boys. Senator Carey had a long business relationship with Bashir. Some of the men were willing, but the boys generally didn’t know what would happen to them. Some of the prince’s wives were sent to clean them up after Carey and the others had their way with them.
“Some of the boys were returned to their families with a significant payment from the prince, Carey, or both. There were even parties on the prince’s 200-300-foot yacht. I understand some of the men and boys never returned from those trips. One of the wives fell out of favor with the prince and sought to escape from the trajectory of her life and her wretched husband. By chance or design, she met a woman working at the US embassy….”
“Nazy?” asked Lynche.
Hunter nodded. “…and became a significant resource. After a while, she began telling Nazy things that were going on, who was coming to see the prince, and, most curiously, the important Americans. When the Americans came, there were special provisions made—special food and drink and nighttime entertainment. Nazy started a file on them."
“After a late meal and the prince’s favorite blend of shishi from a hookah, it was time to turn in. Just like a scene from that ranch in Nevada, instead of half-dressed, heavily made-up women to satisfy the needs of cowboys and businessmen, the Americans chose young men and boys. Sometimes, the prince made the boys turn around and drop their pantaloons, so their little asses could be inspected. Sometimes, the Americans wanted to see the men’s cocks and fondled them to see how big they were. Reportedly."
“The senator from Massachusetts always selected one of each, a young man to do him, followed by a boy for desert. He probably squealed with delight. The wife, a nurse by training, was sent to take care of the boys after the men finished with them. Most of the prince’s wives were professional women, just like Osama bin Laden’s little harem—PhDs, doctors, and lawyers."
“At first, the boys had no idea what happened to them or why. Poor families offered pretty sons with promises of money, and they’d be taken care of with education expenses or cars or better apartments. One of the uglier secrets was that some of the boys defiled by Americans grew up hating
Americans. We saw them on tape walking through the airport, as someone thought they made perfect suicide bombers or pilots of hijacked jets.”
“This is all documented?” Lynche asked, incredulously.
“Yes. Prince Bashir’s actions are well-documented. The Americans who visited him are well detailed. I understand it’s a comprehensive, noteworthy file. Nazy didn’t collect all the intel.”
“It’s like a twenty-five or thirty-year file on the DCI. The information Nazy developed over her two years between embassies enabled the leadership at NCTC to gain a better understanding of why some suicide bombers blew up Muslims, while others focused on Americans. They had the names of the young men and boys. Case officers opened files and tracked the lives of young Muslim men, especially those who were part of the sex-slave trade."
“That was the information Nazy developed. The intel on the Americans was explosive, especially the openly gay senator from Massachusetts and a frequent visitor to the prince’s compounds. So, when the senator’s name was announced as the new president’s nominee to lead the CIA….”
“I don’t like the sound of this,” McGee said.
“…well, you can imagine how Nazy was shaken to the core. She’d been running several women when one she didn’t know approached her in a store and slipped her a note. It was obvious someone had blown her cover, because the disgruntled wife walked right up to Nazy, who was undercover in an abaya, and gave her a note that read, Know you work at the embassy. I have information. I need help."
“She wanted to escape from Saudi Arabia. Nazy thought it had been Carey who blew her cover, because he was visiting the embassy when it happened. It was the only link she had. Nazy’s afraid something bad will happen to her since that senator is now the DCI.”
Lynche mashed his lips. “Why didn't you tell me this?”
“Greg, you know I don’t like Carey, and I don’t like the President. I rarely talk politics with you, because you voted for the guy. I didn’t want to come across as piling on.”
There was a long pause. Lynche and Hunter rarely had cross words, and there were almost no secrets between them. Lynche sighed, “Connie and I kinda got wrapped up in the hope-and-changey thing. It was a mistake I have regretted every day since. It was the dumbest thing I ever did. For whatever it’s worth, you were—are—right about him, from the beginning.”
Hunter gave a pensive nod. “Thanks, Greg.”
“This could be bad,” McGee said.
“Nazy said the day the President nominated Senator Frank Carey, all files on the gentleman were turned over to the deputy director, the acting DCI. Carey may or may not have them. Her name has to be on some of those reports and dispatches.”
“Which name?” Lynche asked. “Her cover name?”
“Yes, Sir. But I think her real name’s in her personnel file, and we have to assume the DCI knows that Nazy was at the embassy when he was abroad.”
“The deputy had to be…,” Lynche began, “had to get that file. Where it went is anyone’s guess.”
“Duncan, you have to get her out of there,” McGee said. “She could be next.”
“I think it’s either you or her,” Lynche added.
“Bill, I appreciate your using the disposables. Do you have any more? We probably need to have Saul get us some more in town.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“I have a couple others.”
“I want to call her to see if she’s OK. The love of my life and someone I admire and stand in awe of are probably both being targeted by the director of the CIA and/or a world-class sniper. Oh, by the way, for some reason, he also wants the President dead. Mr. Lynche, have you done anything lately to get on the DCI’s shit list?”
“I hope not. It would ruin my retirement.”
“I was just thinking. I’m having thoughts that there’s a sense of urgency to warn Nazy, but she also might be the only one who can find the file on the president. It must be hiding in plain sight.”
“You have a point.”
“Do we know any more, Bill?”
“No. Danny’s in Afghanistan. I’m certain he led the raid in Pakistan. Maybe he even shot the bastard for me.”
“We need a plan,” Lynche said, stating the obvious.
Hunter stepped to a large white board on the wall and began writing.
Plan to thwart shooter from Nazy and Bill Plan to profile shooter Plan to discover source of DCI’s actions Plan to discover who sent the shooter Plan to get files on the president and DCI
“How’s that? Did I miss anything?”
“Do you plan to eat?” Lynche asked.
Hunter cocked his head and grinned, glad to see he and Greg were close friends again.
“I don't think so,” McGee said.
“First, I want to see if Nazy’s OK. If she is, we need to see if she’s a player. If we assume the shooter’s after Bill first, she won’t be targeted until Bill’s killed.”
“Thank you for your concern,” McGee said with a wry smile.
“These are our priorities—protect you and Nazy. I think we might have some time with Nazy. If we can interdict the shooter from getting at you, she’s clear.”
“Unless the DCI takes direct action.”
“Let’s not go there for a moment. How about we get word to her to see if she’s OK? Maybe she can sense any change in the atmosphere at your old place. If she feels safe and is game, what are the chances she could find those files?”
“I like it. Send her an e-mail. Text her. Then we can eat.”
“I’ll step outside and use the unclass system. I can send text messages there, and I can receive them on my BlackBerry. If she’s home.”
“That’ll work,” said Lynche.
“Save me some pizza,” demanded Hunter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
2300 June 9, 2001
Schweizer Aircraft Company
HEY, 91321 CAN’T TALK SEND 2 BB
JUST GOT HOME U OK?
CAN U GO BACK 2 WORK MAY BE SAFER
YOU CANNOT CALL ME?
WISH I COULD TALK CANT CHANCE AUDIO OR E-MAIL
UR SCARING ME
KNOW ILY ANYTHING WEIRD W/UR BOSS? BIG D
NO NOTHING NEW IF THAT IS HELPFUL
WANT 2 GIVE U FULL DETAILS 2 DANGEROUS NEED U SAFE THINK BEST N UR OFFICE 4 SEVERAL DAYS
I COULD GO BACK, TAKE CLOTHES
GOOD PLZ WEAR UR BA NEED FAVORS
U WILL PAY WHEN ICU 91321
WHAT DO U NEED
NEED U2 FIND FILE ON OTHER FORMER SENATOR. 10-4?
UR PREDECESSOR BUILT 20 YR FILE, MADE COPY N HID IT N PLAIN SIGHT
UNDERSTAND BIG D’S BOSS FILE
10-4 ALWAYS AN AVENTURE WITH ME. PROMISE IF ANYTHING LOOKS STRANGE GET 2 SAFE PLACE FAST PLZ
WILL TRY MY BEST
STAY AWAY FROM WINDOWS N HOUSE. MOVE FAST BTWN CAR N HOUSE TEXT WHEN SAFE N PARKING LOT
OK
WILL COME 4U IN COUPLE DAYS CAN U DO THAT
ANYTHING 4U 91225
91225 22 22 13 CU SOON
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
2315 June 9, 2011
The Green Room, Schweizer Aircraft Company
Hunter closed the business development director’s office and ran through the quiet manufacturing plant back to the vault. Stepping inside, he was again stunned by the clean slick lines and elegance of the design of the newly carbon-fiber-skinned YO-3A. Schweizer’s engineers and Hunter met every year to discuss airframe and system improvements. Over the past ten years, the little airplane traded many metal airframe components for precision-fitted carbon fiber panels.
007 and her sisters were prototypes. A production special-purpose quiet aircraft would have been over-engineered in several areas to improve its flying characteristics and its low-level performance from flight tests and simulations, all designed to increase its quietness. Ten years of such improvements and new, longer wings would likely have garnered a thumbs-up from the master of Lockheed’s design and
engineering, Kelly Johnson.
Hunter told his graduate school students, during his Aircraft and Spacecraft Development classes, “A beautiful aircraft is a great flying aircraft. There’s always a certain elegance in form and performance in the great aircraft. Consider this. What would you do to make the SR-71 or the Concorde better? That’s how you recognize greatness, when you can’t improve it.”
None of his students, from the F-15 and F-16 pilots to the guys flying heavies, had ever heard of the little, obscure YO-3A, but they would certainly recognize that 007 would be a great flying airplane and would be very effective.
Hunter stood there for a moment, smiling. “Think you can find a sniper in a haystack?” His voice echoed in the special hangar before he reentered the Green Room.
“Where we at?”
“What about Nazy?”
“She’s OK. Doesn’t think anything weird’s going on and is going back to her office to look for the POTUS file. I asked her to wear her body armor and stay at Langley until we come for her.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
“She’s a little scared. I’m worried about all of us. Where are we at, or did you just eat it all while I was gone?”
“There’s more than enough, even for you.”
Duncan loaded Italian onto his paper plate, sat at the table facing the whiteboard, and looked at the list of items. He started talking. “I’m thinking, if we’re lucky, one and five are at work. I think the middle three are related. DCI has to be the key.”
“It might be helpful to profile the shooter the best we can, then war game the options,” McGee said.
“I’m all ears,” Lynche said.
McGee, standing, walked to the board. “The guy’s an American, not from any of our coalition partners or the Soviet bloc. He’s able to move too freely and hit multiple places across the country.”
“So he isn’t a Muslim itching for some kind of payback that you and your buddies deserve?”
“That’s perfect. You have to challenge my assumptions and assertions. No attribution, right?”
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