by J. B. Turner
Now she did look at him. “Maybe. But it’s complicated on my end too. We’re investigating Dyer for theft of classified documents. We have to uphold the law.”
“Martha, doesn’t the fact that there’s a plot to silence her make you question how legitimate the FBI’s investigation is? You’re being used. I can’t in all good conscience just ignore the threat to her life. And neither should you.”
“I don’t operate according to my conscience. I operate according to the laws of this country.”
“Those laws are being broken.”
“This is not your fight.”
“It is now.”
Meyerstein said nothing.
“Read just a piece of what’s in that file. The people we’ve entrusted to run our military are defrauding American taxpayers for their own personal gain. It’s appalling.”
Meyerstein stared out the windshield, down the street. “O’Donoghue wants me to cut the cord with you. To terminate our working relationship. Situations like this just give him more ammunition. It can’t go on. It’s not going to end well.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. But it’s not the first time I’ve come under pressure because of your actions, let me tell you.”
“What do you want to do, Martha?”
“You’re not making it easy for me, Jon. You never do.”
“I’m not trying to making things difficult for you. But I swear, your guys are off base on this.”
“Be that as it may, the Director isn’t a fan of yours. He is uneasy about your methods, Jon. And there’s only so long I can protect your role.”
“How about you? Are you uneasy about me?”
Meyerstein sighed. “Am I uneasy about you? I think it’s important to have your capabilities available to us. I think it’s important that you feel you can reach out to me like you’re doing now.”
“I agree. Martha, for me, it’s a privilege to try and serve in any way I can. I know I’m unconventional. Frankly, I don’t give a damn what the rest of them think. I’m only concerned what you think. I don’t want to embarrass you or the FBI. So if you do want to cut the cord, just say it and I’ll be out of here. And I know it won’t be personal.”
“I don’t want that, Jon. Not at all. But I feel . . . I feel conflicted about us.”
“In what way?”
“What you do makes me uneasy. The methods you use. And I know when you turn up, trouble won’t be far behind. But I like being with you. I want to be with you a helluva lot more than I am. There, I’ve said it. Does that make sense?”
Reznick nodded. The truth was he felt exactly the same. He just couldn’t express those same feelings. He felt uncomfortable even broaching the subject of their personal relationship. He didn’t emote. He was like his father that way. Unless it was anger. He had no problem showing his anger. His feelings were something private to him. Buried deep within him. It was just the way he was. His father showed little emotion to Reznick growing up. And so he had become just like him.
“What I’m trying to say, Jon, is that you mean a lot to me. But you also infuriate me. But what can I say, I miss you. A lot.”
“I miss you, too, for what it’s worth.”
Meyerstein smiled. “That’s nice to know.”
“I’m sorry for turning up like this.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you’re here.” Meyerstein cleared her throat. “Let’s get back to business. Rosalind Dyer. Jon, I’m not sure you know the full story.”
“As God is my witness, this woman, Rosalind Dyer, is telling the truth. I believe her, and I believe in her. She’s a true American patriot. She just wants to see justice done.”
“What about the law? Does she believe in the law?”
“I hear what you’re saying. She’s a whistle-blower. But we need people to speak out. My father was the one who first told me about Daniel Ellsberg. You heard of him?”
Meyerstein nodded. “He leaked the Pentagon Papers. Do you think it’s patriotic to leak classified information?”
“In that case, yes. The American people didn’t know about the illegal bombing of Laos and Cambodia. Should they have been kept in the dark?”
“Are you saying what she’s doing is the same thing?”
“Not at all. But I’m saying we have a history in America. Where people stand up for what they believe is right. Is true. Freedom of speech. What does the Constitution say?”
“Jon, I understand deflection, trust me. But Rosalind Dyer has responsibilities. If she unearthed information during an investigation, she needed to deal with it via the appropriate channels. DCIS has very, very strict guidelines about what can and cannot be shared and with who. You should know that better than anyone. It’s about national security.”
“National security? Gimme a break. That’s what they said about Daniel Ellsberg leaking those classified files. What about the public’s right to know what’s being done with their money? Who’s on her side?”
“I don’t want to get into a long-drawn-out argument right now. She needs to turn herself in. Can you help convince her to do that?”
“No can do, Martha.”
“You’re making this difficult for me, Jon.”
“Read the file. Dyer knows a lot. A lot more than she’s letting on. And people want to silence her. Forever. Whether you think she deserves to be in jail or not, she doesn’t deserve to be murdered.”
Meyerstein bowed her head for a moment. Then she got out of the car, taking the file with her, crossed the quiet suburban road, and walked up the path to her home.
She never looked back.
Fourteen
Rosalind Dyer descended the stairs of the Bethesda metro with a backpack full of clothes and headed to the bathroom, as Reznick had advised her. She changed in one of the stalls and put on a wig, glasses, sweatpants, and an Adidas top and sneakers. She stepped onto the platform and hopped on a train. Six stops later, she arrived at Shady Grove, the last stop on the line. She looked around. An SUV flashed its lights in the distance.
Dyer walked over to the SUV, knowing her movements weren’t being tracked. Trevelle had already jammed the surveillance cameras in and around the station.
Reznick was behind the wheel, Trevelle sitting in back, scanning his cell phone.
Dyer climbed in the passenger seat and took off the wig and glasses. “Don’t you think this is overreacting, Jon?” she said.
“Just a precaution. The FBI is on our tails. And you’ve got a crew trying to kill you. We need to be sharp.”
Trevelle handed her a new phone.
“What’s this?” she said.
“Your government-issue phone can’t be trusted.”
Dyer looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “I think you guys are being paranoid. This is crazy.”
Reznick pulled away slowly. “Under the circumstances, Rosalind, it’s better to be safe than sorry. How do you think the FBI was able to find us? It was through your phone.”
“I’ve been so busy thinking about the hearing, I never thought about such basics.”
“The new phone will keep you off the grid, at least for now.”
“Speaking of which, tell me about your meeting with the assistant director?”
“It was short. To the point. I passed on what I know and tried to lay out the fundamentals.”
“Was she sympathetic?”
“Not exactly. But she’s a good person. And I trust her. She’ll take a look at the file. But there’s no promises or guarantees.”
“Jon, I need to give evidence to the committee. I need to do this. There’s too much I’ve uncovered. I can’t go into hiding.”
Trevelle piped up from the back seat. “Aren’t you scared? I know I am.”
“Yeah, of course I’m scared,” she said. “But I just can’t walk away from this.”
“Walking away from this would be a smart move,” Reznick said.
Dyer laughed. “Whose side are you on
?”
“I’m playing devil’s advocate. The smart move is to say fuck it and move on. Get safe.”
“There’s too much water under the bridge. I can’t just stop now. I owe it to my position, what I believe in, my honor. It’s called integrity.”
“Ideals and honor are all well and good,” Reznick said, “but they don’t beat staying alive, trust me.”
Dyer sighed. “Expediency was never my thing.”
“Mine either.”
“I think you’re more scared than you’re letting on,” Trevelle said.
Dyer smiled and turned around to look at him. “You got me. Look, of course I’m scared. I wish I wasn’t. I wish to hell I didn’t know what I know. But I can’t unmake the past. So I need to testify.”
Reznick drove on, the car’s headlights bathing the road in a ghostly glow. “Can’t you testify to the committee via videoconferencing? You’d be safe, and the committee would get to hear and see you.”
“I asked for that. But it was refused.”
“Seriously?”
“The chair was fine with it, but the rest of the committee—and it was all men—told my lawyer that it wasn’t an option. They wanted to speak to me in person, scrutinize the evidence I’ve compiled, and talk through the report I’m going to submit. I think they were concerned that I would be coached.”
Reznick nodded. “Let me get this straight. The kickbacks and corruption you’ve uncovered—are we talking military high echelons? Is this what we’re really talking about?”
“I’m talking Joint Chiefs of Staff, two of them, who left a paper trail leading to a slush fund and secret accounts in Switzerland, Panama, the Caymans, and the British Virgin Islands. Compiling the evidence has taken over my life. So, before you ask, I can’t cut and run on this. There’s too much at stake. Too much invested in this.”
“And you’ve tried to raise this with your superiors?”
“On numerous occasions. The inspector general has gotten involved. He read my preliminary report. Meanwhile, I’m on paid leave while they conduct an internal investigation into my actions.”
“You don’t sound convinced that they’ll do the right thing.”
“I think they’ve just been hoping this thing goes away. They want me out of the way. But I don’t scare easy. My father was in the military. I was in the Army Reserve. My brother served in Afghanistan.”
Reznick nodded. “Army?”
“Rangers.”
“Impressive.”
“He’s been my rock. My faith. As has my husband. My brother will be coming to watch me testify.”
“Good for him.”
Dyer sighed. “He’s in a wheelchair thanks to an IED. Both legs, below the knee, just gone.”
Reznick’s mind flashed on searing images. Two Delta operators screaming and crying, blood and lower limbs scattered obscenely among the molten metal and fragments of the bomb. He’d visited both men at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center, not far from where they were now. It still hurt him to think of their injuries and the courage they’d shown throughout their rehabilitation. He didn’t know if he would have been so resilient.
His father had had a deep-set fear that Reznick would be maimed. Lose a limb. He remembered the first time he came back from Iraq, his father on the front porch, American flag flying from the second-floor window. The house he’d built with his own hands and imagination after he had come back from Vietnam. His father stood, as if to attention, head held high, tears flowing down his face.
Reznick had hugged his father for the first time in years. His father had sobbed hard, hugged him tight, as if not wanting to let him go. Relieved his son was in one piece and that he’d made it home. Except Reznick had felt a disconnect when he returned home. Not only with his family and friends, but with life. It was like life was going on all around him, and he didn’t feel part of anything. It was like that for years.
“Jon, did you hear what I said?” Dyer’s voice snapped Reznick out of his thoughts.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“I was just saying to Trevelle, I’m not the sort of person who’s going to go quietly. I won’t be intimidated. And I will not cave under pressure.”
Reznick sighed, dark worries filling his mind. He wondered if Dyer had really thought this through. He admired her courage. Her integrity. But stuff like that meant nothing if people were determined to kill you.
Trevelle leaned forward. “Who do you think is responsible for this contract on your life? I mean, it’s gone through this Manhattan global security company, but it didn’t start there. That’s got to be authorized at a high level, beyond classified.”
Dyer said, “I would guess that it originated from within the Pentagon. The CIA, maybe even the DCIS. No one wants gossip about defense contract kickbacks going public and making them look bad, especially when two joint chiefs would take the fall. They protect their own.”
Trevelle said, “Yeah, but there’s no proof the Pentagon is pulling strings.”
She nodded. “It’s true, the order didn’t start with the private security company. I would bet that this is a Pentagon SAR.”
“What’s that?” Trevelle asked.
“SAR stands for special access required. Special access programs, they’re sometimes referred to. They’re black projects, with only a select few having access to the highly classified details. This private company is probably one the Pentagon contracts for these sorts of projects.”
Reznick said, “I’ve worked on quite a few special access programs. Mostly unacknowledged. They’re called USAPs, right?”
Dyer nodded. “But there’s a subset of unacknowledged special access programs, known to some as waived SAPs, that are exempt from most reporting requirements.”
Trevelle said, “Hang on, you guys, back up. Do you mean including not reporting the operation to the legislative branch?”
“Correct,” Dyer said. “How Orwellian is that?”
“That’s fucking outrageous,” Trevelle said. “So a handful of people within, say, the Pentagon, they’re operating with impunity, without legal oversight?”
“Pretty much. And it’s only the chair of intelligence or the defense committee who needs to be told—and sometimes even then it’s only verbal notification. It’s really sketchy.”
Trevelle whistled. “That’s crazy. I don’t like that shit.”
Dyer shook her head. “Sometimes, a military needs such protocols. But without democratic oversight, or cursory oversight at best, it allows a handful of individuals to run illegal operations without anyone being the wiser. And this is the end result. But we’re only scraping the surface.”
They fell silent as Reznick took the exit for another highway. Eventually, he said, “Let’s get back to basics. It’s important not to lose sight of your safety. Don’t get me wrong, I want you to testify and do the right thing. But not if it costs you your life.”
“I’ve got to complete this journey, Jon. No matter what.” Dyer examined the new cell phone Trevelle had given her. “Am I OK to use this now?”
“Go right ahead. You won’t be tracked. I promise.”
“Who are you going to call?” Reznick asked.
“My husband. He’ll be worried.”
“Give him a call. But be careful, they might be listening in on his end. So don’t give him any information about where you are.”
Dyer dialed and put the phone on speaker. She waited for a few moments before it was answered. “Hi, honey, it’s me.”
“Rosalind, where the heck are you? I’ve been worried sick. You said you were just running out for coffee and to do a few errands. It’s the middle of the night. Are you alright?”
“I know. I’m sorry. Listen to me, I’m safe. But things have escalated.”
The sound of one of her three children yelling in the background could be heard. “Yeah, here too.”
“What do you mean?”
“The FBI is here. Have been for the last hour. The
y say you stole classified documents, federal property. They’re here to arrest you.”
Fifteen
Reznick drove for countless miles through the darkness into rural Maryland. He had begun to formulate a plan. The fact of the matter was that there were no good options. And he wondered if going on the run with Dyer and Trevelle had been a smart move.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he should have drawn a line in the sand and insisted the Feds get involved. But he couldn’t in good conscience hand over Trevelle or Dyer if it meant they would lose their liberty. They weren’t bad people. The reality was they were both principled in their own ways. He admired them both. Maybe that was it.
Reznick pushed those thoughts to one side. He had made a decision. And he was going to stick with it, no matter what. But first, the top priority was to get Dyer and Trevelle to a secure place. Out of sight. At least until Dyer testified.
He did feel deeply conflicted after his conversation with Meyerstein. But what Dyer had unearthed, the venal corruption among the highest American military leaders, sickened him. Siphoning off public money for personal gain? It was the troops, like his Delta partners, who suffered. Who died needlessly because money that should have been going to equipment and operational readiness was diverted for someone’s personal gain. And the people around the world who relied on America to protect them in times of crisis suffered too.
Dyer’s story needed to be told. She needed to be protected. Bottom line? He couldn’t just walk away.
Reznick admired people like Dyer. People who weren’t afraid to go against the grain. To do the right thing in the face of pressure and against insurmountable odds. And even knowing that people were out to kill her, to prevent her from telling her story before the committee, still Dyer wouldn’t buckle. He liked that about her. A lot. She would not be crushed.
The car’s headlights landed on a deer ahead in the road, snapping Reznick back to reality. He slowed down. The animal just stared at him from the middle of the road, as if wondering why someone or something was encroaching on its territory. The beast didn’t flinch.
Reznick stopped the car a few yards from the deer.