by Nick Shelton
He ran through a park with several baseball and softball fields. He passed through unlit areas where he knew it’d be difficult to spot him. A sharp pain was developing in his side from a cramp; his lungs were burning from inhaling the cold air--but he wasn’t about to slow down.
He raced to the intersection of 23rd street and Highway 50. There, he spotted a Chevrolet truck stopped behind the traffic light. He jumped into its truck bed.
“What in the hell are you doing?” the owner of the truck shouted through his open window.
“I…need’a…ride,” said Nathan, breathing so hard that he could barely talk. He fumbled frantically through his wallet to get his Pentagon clearance to the OSP. “I work…for a government agency.”
“Where do you need to go?” said the man who now felt like he was in a James Bond movie.
Nathan looked back and did not see Adam or the male agent. “Just keep driving.”
Nathan slumped down into the truck bed.
As they approached another busy intersection, Nathan spotted a taxi sitting next to the curb. As the truck decelerated to a stop, Nathan jumped out and waved a sign of thanks to the driver.
He scrambled into the taxi’s backseat. “I need to get to my hotel on the corner of Ridgeway and Columbus Circle. And I’m in a hurry.”
Chapter 21
Hampton Inn September 18, 2006 9:4 p.m.
Nathan glanced over his shoulder as he entered the hotel. No agents were in sight. He felt a moment of relief, feeling assured he’d lost them back at the highway.
He hurried to the lobby’s desk.
“Welcome to the Hampton Inn. How may I help you?” asked the attractive desk clerk. The tone of her voice did not match her friendly greeting. Nathan assumed it must’ve been his appearance--he was drenched with sweat and had picked some filth from the truck bed.
“I need a room for the night.”
The female attendant squinted at the computer screen in front of her. “Would you like a room with two twin beds or a queen?”
“Um--it depends. Where are these vacant rooms?”
“There are three vacant rooms with twin beds on the third floor, and one with a queen on the fourth.”
“That’s it?”
“Well, the entire second floor is vacant, but we won’t start occupying those rooms until the others are filled.”
“Let me make a quick call.”
Nathan stepped back and pretended to make a call from his cell phone. When the desk clerk turned her attention away from him, Nathan hurried to the stairs.
He went to the second floor and started pounding on the doors. “Daniel! Daniel! Are you in there?” He continued down the row of doors, knocking on each one. “Daniel, this is urgent, if you’re in there…”
A door partially opened behind him. “How many times have I told you not to use my real name?” Daniel tried to keep his voice to a whisper, but couldn’t. “Hurry, come in!”
Nathan rushed in.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Daniel demanded. “And don’t you understand what it means to keep a low profile.”
“They’re on to us!”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. It was a woman using the alias Adam Eveland--very slender, athletic build. I’m assuming a federal agent, probably FBI or CIA. She fired shots when I tried to flee,” Nathan grew out of breath just trying to explain it. “There was another agent. Several were surrounding the Lincoln Memorial.”
“Hold on.” Daniel gestured with his hands to settle Nathan down. “Start from the top. What were you doing there?”
Nathan took a deep breath before starting his confession. “I got an email from someone at the Pentagon. They told me that you weren’t who you said you were--that you were a terrorist.”
“Nathan, after what we’ve talked—” Daniel started.
“It’s just that all of this has happened really fast. She convinced me that she was Intell, and that she had worked with Cindy. She told me that you were using me to get inside information. I was afraid I didn’t know your true identity.”
“Did you tell her anything about me?” Daniel asked, his eyes squinting in frustration.
“No,” Nathan quickly replied. “I don’t think she even knew your name. She told me they were going to make a bust within the next few days. But she acted like they didn’t know your location. They needed me to turn you in. I knew something was not right when she handed me a GPS locator. When she mentioned something about Cindy’s coffee mug--I realized she was lying from the start. Cindy didn’t drink coffee--she didn’t even touch anything with caffeine in it.”
“You said they fired shots? Where at?”
“As soon as I exited the memorial--right in front of the stairs.”
“No. What trajectory were the shots fired at? Where would the bullets have hit you if they were on target?”
“They missed low. The bullets would’ve hit my legs if she aimed more to the left.”
“A low trajectory. They didn’t want you dead. They need you to get to me.” Daniel spoke quietly, pondering his comments.
“Do you think they know who you are?”
“No. I doubt they even know I’m alive.” Daniel’s thick eyebrows furrowed forward as he tried to think. “I don’t know how they would’ve had knowledge of our connection. Unless… Nathan, did you check your emails from work?”
“A couple times.”
“Is your office under video surveillance?”
“There’s only a few parts of the Pentagon that aren’t.”
Daniel sighed with frustration. “They must’ve picked up on us through there. I’m sure they read your screen from the camera.” Daniel hurried to his laptop on this desk to see what Intelligence may have gathered from their email communications.
“But I didn’t think a surveillance camera could pick up the words off my screen. The ones at gas stations usually don’t even show a clear picture of a robber’s face.”
A thought hit Daniel as Nathan explained his rational. Security cameras. “The hotel’s security will have you on tape. We’re not safe here.” Daniel slammed shut his laptop and started placing his things in his backpack. “We’ve got to go.”
“Where?”
“I got to get all my stuff from the warehouse. We’ll have to decide from there.”
Nathan could sense Daniel’s irritation. “I’m sorry. I had no idea…”
“No, I should’ve planned for something like this.” Daniel headed to the door. “But this could not have happened at a worse time.”
The American Truth 8
Chapter 22
1227 Ridgeway Ave. September 18, 2006 10:22 p.m.
Nathan helped Daniel gather his notebooks and files in the corner of the warehouse. “Any plans on where we go from here?”
“Not exactly sure, but you’re going to have to go back to the Pentagon tomorrow.”
Nathan stopped in his place. “After what happened tonight? Are you kidding?”
“Nathan, the only reason I brought you into this was to get your help recovering Pentagon files. We have to utilize your Pentagon access before it’s too late.”
“It’s already too late. They already know what I know.”
“You said you thought they were federal agents. If they were CIA from Langley, there’s a chance that nobody at the Pentagon knows about this yet.”
“I can’t rely on that. I’d be insane to go in there tomorrow.”
Daniel stopped gathering his research to give Nathan his attention. “Nathan, you have to realize there’s only a select few in the government who know the truth about 9/11. There’s even fewer who have been assigned to cover it up.” Daniel paused. “Last night, you told me you’d be committed to this until the end. This is one of the risks we’re going to have to take. If you don’t take this risk tomorrow morning, we may never have the chance of getting into the Pentagon again.”
Nathan took several seconds to think. “Alright, I’ll
do it. But I’ll probably come out with handcuffs around my wrists. With the Patriot Act, they could even torture me if they wanted.”
“Relax, we’re going to be smart with this. Even if you do get caught, you’ll have nothing to give up.”
“What do you mean?”
“After tonight, we’re going to split up. You won’t know where I am or what I plan to do. If you’re caught, you’ll have no information to share. If they don’t believe you, demand a lie detector test. Following so far?”
Nathan nodded his head.
“Good. Now let me explain what I need from the Pentagon. There’s a set of files there that contains the archives from the WTC 7 computers. I can get to these files from Akamai’s servers, but I cannot open them because they have a password encryption on them.”
“And you want me to get the password?”
“No, you couldn’t. Nobody can. It’s a 50-character sequence that changes every hour. The passwords are created sequence that changes every hour. The passwords are created digit Network Access Code, or NAC. All computers within the first two rings of the Pentagon have the same NAC, allowing anyone with Level 5 clearance to open these classified files.”
“So, you want me to open these files from one of these computers?”
“No, I just need the NAC. I can solve the algorithm that will translate the NAC into the correct password. I’ll show you how to find a computer’s NAC on my laptop before we split up--it’s actually fairly easy.”
“So all I need to do tomorrow is get this 25-digit NAC?”
Daniel hesitated. “There’s one more thing, but I’ll tell you about it later. First, we must establish how we’re going to communicate now since our other method has been compromised.” Daniel grabbed a large mobile phone from his backpack and tossed it to Nathan. “Take this.”
“A Blackberry? I already have a cell phone.”
“Is it on you?”
Nathan took out his mobile phone from his pocket. Daniel immediately snatched it and turned it off. “It has GPS tracking.” Daniel threw the phone down and crushed it by stomping it. “We’ll need to get out of here soon in case your friends from the Lincoln thought of tracking you by your phone.”
Nathan studied the Blackberry as they head for the door. “Does this get the Internet?”
“Anywhere you get cell phone coverage. I think it will be our best option for communication. In fact, you could text message the 25-digit NAC to me through that. We’ll also set up a simple Gmail account in case we need to send long messages.”
“You don’t think it’s too risky to use a public email account?”
“No, we just can’t write our real names or anything that relates to 9/11.”
As they exited the hideout, Nathan thought about what all this meant to his future. “After I steal the NAC, will I have to go into hiding permanently?”
Daniel nodded. “I also suggest you go to the bank tomorrow before going into the Pentagon. You need to take out all the savings you have before they freeze your accounts.”
Nathan showed an expression of distrust.
“I can see how you may be a little wary of doing this. I know you’ve had some doubts about who I am tonight. Don’t worry; I’m not a terrorist, and I’m not a con artist interested in taking your money. I just know from experience that you’ll need all the money you can get. Things get very expensive when no one can know your real identity.”
“My whole savings? Most of it is for my kids’ college savings.”
“I don’t want to sound cold-hearted, but you’re going to need that money more than your children. Speaking of that-I’m hoping your daughter has someone she can stay with until we release our research to the public.”
Nathan nodded. “Her grandmother lives in town.” Nathan grew full of worry when he thought of leaving his daughter. “I’ll call both of them tonight and arrange for Claire to stay over there.”
“Don’t worry,” said Daniel, looking into the concerned father’s eyes. “Once you get me the two things from the Pentagon, it’ll only take a week to get all of my research together to go public.”
Nathan took a deep breath. “And this other thing you want…?”
“I’ll wait to go into specifics. But it’s a file with the codename, ‘The Re Con.’”
The American Truth 89
Chapter 23
The Pentagon - OSP September 19, 2006 8:0 a.m.
Nathan walked through the entrance of the Pentagon. He slid his security card through the processor. He let out a sign of relief when it allowed him enter with no difficulty. Once inside, he quickly made his way to his office. All the way there, he scanned his surroundings, making sure no one was taking special interest in him.
He reached his office without any problems. He logged onto his computer and entered the email address Daniel had given him. [email protected]:
T.Ruth,
Here’s what you need to know. First, you need to find the NAC from a Level 5 security zone. Any computer within the first two rings of the Pentagon should have the information we need. Please send me a text message with the 25 digits if you’re able to get it.
Next, you’ll need to find the file code-named “The Re Con.” It was actually a top-secret folder stored at the P-gon until 9/11 destroyed it. However, I found out that the P-gon backs up all files on microfiche tape in the document storage room in the basement. Inventory last taken for the area destroyed on 9/11 was on November 22, 1998. So your 2nd task is to look through the microfiche files and find this classified document.
Lastly, attached to this email is a computer programming script. From any computer in the P-gon, this script can access the P-gon’s security admin controls. With one click of the mouse, this program will sound the emergency evacuation alarm for all sectors in the P-gon. I’ll let you decide if and when this is necessary.
Sincerely, DL
Attachment: P-gon_Master_Alarm.exe
Nathan clicked the link to download the attachment. Nervously, he glanced out his office window. Two tall gentlemen were walking down the OSP hallway toward his office. He placed them in their early 30s--one white, the other AfricanAmerican. They moved effortlessly with the confidence that comes from power. Their toned figures made it obvious that they didn’t work behind a desk all day.
Feds! He had to act fast. There was no time to look through the map of the Pentagon like he had planned. The computer script to the Pentagon’s alarm system was now fully downloaded. He clicked “Run.”
Immediately, loud sirens blared. Emergency lights flashed. Nathan ran out of his office, taking a left to run away from the agents. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the agents speeding up to follow him.
The other OSP employees attempted to make an orderly exit. Since 9/11, dozens of emergency evacuation drills had been run, and everyone had learned how to make a proper emergency exit.
“Mr. Alexander,” one of the agents called out over the piercing alarm. Nathan paid no attention to them. He quickened his pace, passing everyone.
“Mr. Alexander. We need a word with you.”
Nathan weaved through the narrow hallway now cluttered with Pentagon personnel.
The agents lost all pretense of blending in as they yelled for people to get out of their way, shoving aside anyone in their path.
Nathan turned and now saw that only four Pentagon employees separated the agents from him. Nathan knew he’d never outrun them.
He ran toward the open corridor at end of the hallway where the escalators and stairwell were located. A security officer directed traffic to the stairwell in the corner of the corridor.
When Nathan reached the center of the corridor, he turned to face the agents toe-to-toe. The agents grabbed Nathan by the elbows and moved him out of the flow of traffic.
“Mr. Alexander,” said the African-American agent. “We need a word with you.”
“Who are you?” Nathan demanded.
“I’m Agent Malum with the FBI.” Malu
m nodded to his colleague, “And this is my partner Andrew Stephens. We need to talk privately with you after we evacuate the building.”
“FBI? Let me see your badge.”
As the crowds of employees passed by to the stairwell, the agents took out their ID’s. Nathan grabbed Malum’s FBI badge and examined it, while Stephens held his ID in plain view.
As he examined the badge in his left hand, Nathan clenched his right fist. With all his strength, he sent his knuckles into agent Stephens’ nose.
Before the agents could react, Nathan yanked his badge from his hands. He threw both badges in his pocket and ran toward the security officer at the stairwell.
Malum took out a gun, yelling at Nathan as he ran. “Stop right there!”
The busy room suddenly burst into high gear at the sight of the gun. The Pentagon employees rushed toward the stairwell, frantic to escape the potential gun fire.
Nathan froze. He kept his back to Malum and raised his hands overhead. He eyed the security officer at the stairwell. This was the same officer that greeted Nathan with a hearty “Good morning” everyday as walked to his office. “Officer, these men are responsible for setting off the alarm. They have no right to be here.”
The security officer took out his pistol. He pointed the barrel at Malum and kept a close eye on Stephens.
“Officer, I’m Marcus Malum with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”
Stephens took his hand off his bloody nose long enough to talk. “Andrew Stephens…FBI.”
“Check their badges,” said Nathan. He inched toward the escalator to the lower floor.
Stephens now had one hand on his bloody nose and the other on his handgun. Malum kept his gun pointed at Nathan.
The security officer kept two hands on his weapon as he moved cautiously toward Malum. “Drop your weapon, and show me your documentation.”