by Lynn Ames
She took the pages from Vaughn and scanned them, working hard to stay dispassionate. “Whoever concocted this understands the way field agents work. This person isn’t a lightweight—there’s too much attention to detail here. Not only that, but this person has knowledge of Arabic.”
She skimmed the text of the supposed conversations she’d had for the past two years with several of the top-level al-Qaeda in Iraq terrorists. “No. Somebody knew exactly what needed to be said to get me designated as an imminent threat.”
“Okay, then,” Vaughn said. “That means we’re looking for whatever computer originated the document, right? If it wasn’t the director, it had to come from somewhere.”
“On it,” Sabastien said, without missing a beat.
Sedona marveled at his skill. She considered herself a pretty fair geek, but Sabastien gave the word a whole new meaning. From her vantage point, she watched him enter different parameters—dates, clearance levels, and search terms. He cross-referenced keywords and walked through seemingly impenetrable firewalls with ease.
Fifteen minutes later, he shoved back from the laptop and grinned. “I have him in my crosssights.”
“You mean crosshairs, genius,” Vaughn said. She peeked at the screen. “What am I looking at?”
Sedona came up alongside. “Wow. Great work, Sabastien.” She kissed him on the cheek and chuckled when he blushed.
“Ahem. Wanna share?” Vaughn asked.
Sedona pointed to the screen. “What Sabastien was able to do was to find the computer where the keystrokes originated. Then he cross-referenced that against the employee ID that was signed in to that computer at the time. Then he confirmed the match by hacking into the e-mail account attached to the employee ID to confirm that the person who sent the e-mail was the same person who created the document.”
“And the winner is?” Peter asked.
“NSA Deputy Director Orlando Niger,” Sedona said. It didn’t make sense. None of it did. Was he the one responsible for sending the goon squad after her the night she discovered the Tuwaitha file? Was the file meant for him? What, if anything, did he have to do with Tuwaitha?
“What do we know about him?” Lorraine asked.
“Give me a second, and I will give you the slim.”
“The skinny,” Vaughn said, shaking her head.
“Right,” Sabastien said, cracking his knuckles and getting back to work. “Whatever you say.”
“Do you know the guy?” Peter asked Sedona.
Mentally, she catalogued the times she’d been in the presence of the NSA management team. “I think I might have met him once or twice, but I’m coming up blank on anything memorable.”
“Twice-decorated Gulf War veteran, eighteen-year employee of the NSA. Worked his way up the ranks from crypto-analyst,” Vaughn said. She read from whatever it was Sabastien had pulled up on the screen.
“Married with three kids. Named deputy director in 2008 and managed to hold onto the position despite the change in administration. Apparently well regarded in intelligence circles. No major blots on his record. He’s described in reviews as a good tactician. He remained active in the national guard for a number of years after the war…”
“Is there any connection between him and Tuwaitha?” Peter asked.
“I am looking.” Sabastien continued to pound the keys and click the mouse. “I do not see anything obvious.”
“When he served in the Gulf War, was he stationed anywhere near there?” Lorraine asked.
“It looks like he was mostly in Kuwait during Desert Storm, although his company was at the barracks in Dhahran, Saudi Arabia on February 25, 1991, when that Iraqi scud missile hit. That was the source of one of Niger’s medals,” Vaughn said, continuing to read over Sabastien’s shoulder.
“In other words,” Sedona said, “he wasn’t anywhere near Tuwaitha at any time during his deployment.”
“So it would appear,” Vaughn agreed.
“Then why would he care about the place? What’s it to him?” Justine asked.
“I have no idea,” Vaughn said. “But we can’t continue to stay here and wonder about it.” She consulted her watch. “We need to ship out if we’re going to hit our mark.”
“We need to call the president back and tell him what we’ve got,” Peter said.
Wayne Grayson was doing pushups in his cell when Fox News came on. He listened with half an ear as the anchors droned on about Congressional gridlock and the economy.
“Incompetent idiots can’t find their asses with both hands,” he muttered.
“This just in, Fox News has learned exclusively that authorities are looking for a home-grown terrorist with ties to al-Qaeda in Iraq.”
Grayson jumped up and turned up the volume.
“This woman, Sedona Ramos, is who authorities are seeking. She is fluent in Arabic and Homeland Security Secretary Daniel Hart has declared her an imminent threat to national security.”
Grayson stared at Ramos’s picture. She was a good-looking woman. Memorable. That ought to make her easy to find. He smiled wolfishly. “Good work, Daniel.”
Daniel Hart stood at attention in front of the desk of the president of the United States.
“Daniel, Daniel, Daniel,” the president said. He shook his head and skimmed the open file on his desk before looking up. “Do you know why you’re here?”
“I imagine it has to do with the report you requested on Sedona Ramos, sir.”
“What I’d like to know, Daniel, is why I had to find out about this on the news.” The president’s voice was deathly calm. He leaned back and steepled his fingers. He hadn’t planned to call Hart to task yet, but perhaps he could use this to his advantage.
After his last conversation with Vaughn, the president decided he wanted to do a little more digging—to see if there was any connection between Deputy Director Orlando Niger and Hart before he acted. The Fox News story changed that.
“I’m sorry about that, sir. It was an oversight. The reporter caught me off guard. She already had the story—said she was going to run with it regardless whether I confirmed it or not. I thought it best to make sure the information that got out there was accurate.”
The president’s eyes flashed. He lunged forward and placed his palms flat on the desk. Accuracy had little to do with any of this, and the implication made him angry on Sedona’s behalf. But Hart didn’t know that, and the president needed to keep it that way. So he channeled his anger in a different direction. “You had information on a major terrorist, an employee at the NSA with top-secret clearance, and you didn’t think it warranted an immediate report to me?”
“I’m sorry, sir. Obviously, that was a bit of bad judgment on my part. I didn’t want to bother you with it until we had more information.”
“Such as?”
“I believe, sir, we know where the Ramos woman is headed, but I wanted better intelligence before I shared that. I didn’t want to take up your time with speculation.”
“I see. And just where is it you think she’s going?”
Hart shifted from foot to foot, and the president smiled inwardly. He wanted this man to be uncomfortable. It’s why he hadn’t invited him to sit down, and why he had left him waiting in the Oval Office for over an hour before he made an entrance.
“We have reason to believe she’s on her way to meet up with some of the top leaders of al-Qaeda in Iraq.”
The president acted surprised. “Really? What makes you think so?”
“She hasn’t shown up for work in more than a week, sir, and a search of her work computer turned up some disturbing correspondence between her and some of the people she’s been monitoring for the past few years.”
“Yes, I see some transcripts of those conversations here.” The president pointed to the file. He waited a beat and then pinned Hart with a piercing look. “How is it that you came to find this evidence?”
“Sir?”
“Well, if you have transcripts, that would seem to
indicate that this woman was under suspicion for a period of time.”
Hart’s right eye twitched. “Um, that’s my understanding of the situation, sir.”
“Explain.”
Hart lifted his chin and ran a finger under his starched shirt collar.
This ought to be good, the president thought.
“Anytime you have employees spending a long period of time in a position where there is interaction of any kind with terrorists, it’s important to ensure that they aren’t becoming sympathetic to the people they’re watching.”
“Wait. I’m confused. Was the Ramos woman interacting with these people or just transcribing their conversations?”
Hart cleared his throat and the president enjoyed watching him squirm. I’d be squirming too, if I was lying to the president and making stuff up out of whole cloth.
“S-she was supposedly transcribing their conversations, sir, but apparently someone in the chain of command over there at the NSA became suspicious and decided to keep a closer eye on her.”
“I see.” The president nodded. “Any idea who that somebody was?”
“Sir?”
“If someone over there was sharp enough to pick up on what might be the biggest terror threat in our country right now, I’d like to know who that was.”
“I… My understanding, sir, was that it was…” Hart’s eyes darted around. “The truth is, I’m not really sure, sir. Can I get back to you on that?”
“You do that, Daniel.” The president stood. “And from now on, if anything ever comes up like this again, I want to know about it right away.”
“Yes, sir.”
The president waited until Hart had almost reached the door. “Oh, and Daniel?”
“Yes, sir?”
“I want to know everything you’ve got on this Ramos woman.” He pretended to think. “In fact, since she’s such a high threat, I want hourly updates on our progress in tracking her down.”
“Yes, sir,” Hart said, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“You may go now,” the president said. He turned away to hide his smirk.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Vaughn checked her rifle yet again. Next to her, she noted Sedona doing the same with her Glock. They hadn’t had another minute alone since exited the car on the tarmac in Kuwait.
She wanted desperately to have just another few seconds—long enough to hold Sedona and reassure her that everything was going to be all right—to tell her that she would protect her. The knowledge of that frightened Vaughn almost more than the drop they were about to make into the middle of the Persian Gulf.
“Are you going to be okay?” Vaughn settled for squeezing Sedona’s arm. She had to yell to be heard over the helicopter’s rotors.
“You’re not making me use a parachute, so I should be fine.” Sedona smiled. “How about you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Sabastien isn’t.” Sedona nodded in his direction. “He looks like he might wet his pants.”
Vaughn laughed. Sedona was right. Sabastien sat with his legs balled up into his chest. His eyes were wild. Vaughn got up and moved over to him.
“What’s up, champ?”
“Tell me again how this works.” He scratched at the camouflage makeup on his face.
“Okay.” Vaughn looked at her watch. “In about eight minutes, we’re going to reach our drop point.”
“How do you know? We’re in the middle of a very large body of water.”
Vaughn patted him on the leg. “You’re the one that estimated speed and distance, genius, remember?”
“I do. What if I was wrong?”
“When’s the last time that happened about a math problem?”
“Never,” Sabastien said, lifting his chin.
“Exactly. So, as I was saying… Seven minutes from now when we reach our drop point, the pilot will lower us down to within ten feet of the water.”
“How deep is the water?”
“Deep enough. I’ll jump first, then Peter and Lorraine will lower the pontoon boat and the supplies. Then Justine will jump, followed by Sedona, followed by Lorraine, followed by you.” She squeezed his knee. “Peter will jump last.”
“And you are sure this is safe?”
“Can you swim?”
“Of course.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about.”
“What about alligators?”
“What?” Vaughn threw her head back and laughed.
“Do not make fun of me, Elliott. I am a computer geek, not a warrior. I know nothing of these kinds of things.”
“I know, genius.” Vaughn got serious for a second. “If I didn’t think we needed you to be on scene, you wouldn’t be here. You’d be resting comfortably in your Swiss villa or wherever it is you hang out. But we do need you. You’re the guy with all the cool toys. You’re the guy who can direct us around corners, guide us around patrols, tell us what we’re looking at. And, you’re the guy who can get us the pictures we need as proof of what’s going on here and feed them back to the president.”
“What you are saying is that I am important to you.”
“Yep.”
“Then really, Elliott, you ought to be nicer to me.” Sabastien grinned.
“Remember, I’m still your ride home. Don’t get too cocky.”
“Sixty seconds to target,” the pilot relayed into Vaughn’s headset.
“Roger that.” She looked around at the group. “Show time in T-minus fifty seconds, gang. Everybody set?”
When everyone had given her the thumbs up, Vaughn moved toward the door and slid it open. She felt the chill of the night air on her face and watched as the helicopter lowered into position. The water below churned with the wind from the rotor blades. Just before she jumped, Vaughn snuck one more peek at Sedona. She had her eyes closed as if in prayer, and Vaughn found herself wanting, yet again, to know what it was that went on in Sedona’s brain. She was quite possibly the most intriguing woman Vaughn had ever known.
“You’re out,” the pilot said in her ear. Vaughn sat on the edge of the opening, braced her hands against the metal, and pushed off.
The water was cold and Vaughn shook her head to clear her vision as she rose back to the surface. She gave the thumbs up to Peter, who was leaning out over the edge. He disappeared back inside.
Several seconds later, he and Lorraine appeared on either side of the pontoon boat and began lowering it with the help of a winch. When it hit the water, Vaughn swam to it and released the rope, signaling with her hand that they should retract it.
By the time Vaughn scrambled into the boat and dropped the anchor, Peter and Lorraine were lowering the first of the supplies. Vaughn unhooked them and arranged them. She, Peter, and Lorraine repeated this process until all of the supplies were onboard the boat.
Within minutes, Justine, Sedona, Lorraine, Sabastien, and Peter were all onboard. Vaughn waved the helicopter off and watched as it headed back to Kuwait. She started the boat’s motor as Peter scanned the horizon with a night scope.
“Looks like we’re clear,” Peter said.
“Good.” Vaughn tapped Sabastien. “Okay, genius, get our bearing and tell me where to go.” She motioned to Lorraine to pull up the anchor.
“Next stop, our friendly Red Cross vessel.”
“How’s the salad?” the president asked Kate. He and his wife were entertaining Kate and Jay with a late dinner in the family dining room.
“Excellent, sir.”
“Jay,” the president’s wife said, “I want you to know I’ve read all your books. I’m a major fan.”
Jay’s face lit up. “Oh, wow. You are? That’s such a huge compliment coming from you. Thank you, ma’am.”
“That is a heck of an endorsement,” the president said. “My wife is the pickiest reader I’ve ever met.”
Kate beamed at her wife with pride. “It’s so nice of you to invite us to dinner. Thank you.”
“I’ve been spending so much time wi
th you, Kate, my wife was getting nervous.” The president patted his wife’s hand.
“Nonsense,” she said to Kate. “When I heard who your wife was, I just had to have you both to dinner. Sorry it was such short notice.”
“That’s not a problem, ma’am. Mr. President, surely you weren’t name dropping?” Kate asked.
The president shrugged. “Whatever works, I say.”
“Mr. President,” Jay said. “I know I have you to thank for our little island vacation last week.”
“Mmm. Sorry it got cut short,” the president replied, his face clouding over. “Speaking of which, we do have a bit of business to discuss.”
“Yes, sir,” Kate said.
“Can’t it wait until after dinner, dear?”
“Actually, I was thinking four brains would be better than two.” The president turned to his wife, who, in addition to being a wonderful First Lady, also possessed a keenly sharp analytical mind. “You remember the flash drive you found in the breast pocket of my suit coat a couple of weeks ago?”
The First Lady tapped her lips thoughtfully. “Oh! Yes, I do.”
The president recounted the tale of Sedona’s discovery and all that had happened since, up until his meeting with Daniel Hart.
“Wow. That’s quite a story,” the president’s wife said.
“Poor Vaughn. It was such a beautiful house. No wonder we had to leave the island so quickly,” Jay said. She shook her head in wonder.
“It doesn’t end there.” The president waited for the staff to clear the salads and serve the main course. “I called our friend Daniel Hart on the carpet this evening.”
“I thought we decided to hold off on that, sir,” Kate said.
“I imagine you’re not a fan of Fox News, are you?”
“Frankly, sir, I’d rather have my teeth pulled without Novocain than watch that drivel.”
The president laughed. “Tell me how you really feel.”
“Did we miss something, sir?”
“Fox News ran an exclusive story on the six o’clock news tonight about a very dangerous homegrown terror suspect.”