Noble's Quest

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by Sally Fernandez


  With spurious politeness, Agent Darrow thanked Noble for the assistance, but then reminded him, “Your Dead Zone—as you call it—is located next to Dugway and, according to federal mandates, is restricted airspace. Of course, you are aware it’s the largest continuous block of a no-fly zone in the U.S.”

  “I’ll handle that as well, Agent. Max will get back to you by the end of the day.”

  “I’ll await her call.”

  The conversation ended.

  “You and Darrow don’t seem to be on the friendliest terms. Something going on there?” Max inquired.

  “The agent strongly opposes orders coming from the FBI director forcing him to cooperate with our agency. It’s some sort of macho pride not to ask for help. I can understand his territorial pride, but he also tries to impose his authority. In the past, it has resulted in conflicts that have been detrimental to solving crimes.” Noble huffed. “That’s water over the dam, but he’s tenacious, and never lets it go. Traditionally, there’s been rivalry between our agencies. It’s nothing new, but Darrow carries it to the extreme.”

  “What about Dugway?”

  Max knew Dugway was the U.S. Army’s Proving Ground facility for biological and chemical weapons testing. It was the size of Rhode Island, covering close to eight hundred thousand acres. Nestled within the acreage is a self-contained city, referred to as English Village, with a population of over two thousand, comprised of families and personnel. The entire complex rests under an invisible cover of protected airspace controlled by the U.S. Air Force and restricted to military flight operations only. It is also a major training facility for various armed forces.

  “Call the defense secretary and tell her I need the assistance of an air search rescue team to locate six individuals missing in the area near Dugway,” Noble requested.

  “Shouldn’t she know about the other cases and our suspicions?”

  “Let’s not complicate matters until we have more information. For now, it’s just a preliminary investigation. Request an Apache helicopter with a thermographic camera, one with both cooled and uncooled infrared detectors. We don’t know if we are looking for warm bodies or cold corpses.”

  “I’ll call her immediately. Are you going to track down the attorney general?”

  “Unfortunately,” Noble mumbled dejectedly, “he’s been impossible. But he knows, as part of the outgoing administration, his days are numbered, so he might be more amenable.”

  “I heard the president has a short list of names he is vetting for the AG slot. Noble, why not come out and say it. He’s a son-of-a-bitch.” Max laughed.

  Noble smiled wanly at her comment, but more out of admiration for her directness.

  “Good luck!” Max offered with a high-five to the air.

  “Thanks, and after you get the approval for the air search, call Darrow and tell him to focus around the mines and the surrounding area.”

  “Will do.”

  Max left the conference room and Noble picked up the phone to place a call he hoped he wouldn’t regret.

  “The attorney general is in a conference with the president. Would you like to schedule an appointment with him for later in the day?” asked the voice on the other end of the line.

  Noble thought, perfect, and said, “No thank you.”

  Even though it was Saturday, it was also a new administration and the White House was abuzz with activity. Noble hit the red button on his phone. “Is it possible for me to see the president? I know he’s meeting with the attorney general, but it’s of vital importance.”

  “Hold on, Noble, let me see what I can do,” the president’s secretary stated. Fortunately, she was extremely fond of Noble—a fact he knew, and one he would occasionally use to his advantage.

  “Come on up; he’ll see you now.”

  “Thanks, I owe you one.”

  “Mr. President, thank you for seeing me.”

  “Come in, Noble. Sit down.” The president motioned to the chair across from him and the attorney general.

  “Let me be one of the first to congratulate you, sir.”

  “Thank you, Noble. Thus far, it has been a constructive couple of days, with no crisis in sight—at least for the new guy on the block. In fact, I was just reviewing the General Accountability Office report with the attorney general and, according to their estimates, we are starting off with close to a five billion dollar surplus.”

  The attorney general flinched as the president continued to delight in the news.

  “The Baari Administration had been out of control and had lost track of billions of unaccounted taxpayer dollars, which we have managed to recover.”

  Noble noticed that as the president spoke, the attorney general radiated discomfort. All the while he chuckled inwardly as he recalled hitting the enter key, personally transferring the money back to the treasury—the money Simon had stolen—and which Noble had placed in safekeeping until Baari was out of office. Noble’s predecessor had ordered him to protect the money, fearing the former president would have squandered the taxpayer dollars on his off-the-books, social spending programs.

  “You didn’t come here to see me gloat. I understand you have something important to ask.”

  “Mr. President, at the request of the FBI, my agency is assisting on several major unsolved missing persons cases that have federal implications. We’ve located the bodies in the first three reported cases, but we are still searching for six other individuals recently reported missing”

  “Is this going to be the first crisis of my presidency?”

  “Sir, I hope not. However, the bodies we recovered were in three separate locations. Each location was near an abandoned mine located near the Great Basin, in the eastern region of Utah, just south of Dugway, on land owned by the Federal Government.

  “Dugway!” the president exclaimed.

  “We don’t think it’s related to Dugway, but we do suspect foul play in the first three cases, and that those cases are in some way connected” Noble inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, praying this was not a huge leap of faith.

  “What is it you need from me?”

  “Actually, I need the attorney general to approve the exhumation of eight of the bodies, excluding, for now, those of the three children who were also found.” Noble sat back and waited for the AG to spout his usual legal blather. It didn’t come, much to his relief.

  “Bring me the petitions and I’ll sign them,” the attorney general replied, in an unexpected, positive tone.

  So he’s decided to use empathy in hopes of preserving his job. Nice try. Noble stood up and faced the president. “Thank you Mr. President.” Looking the AG’s way he remarked, “I’ll have the papers on your desk this afternoon, sir.”

  Bowing slightly, Noble left the room.

  It had been a long and exhausting day, but much had been accomplished. Noble had received eight signed petitions for exhumation that would commence within the next few days. Max was able to get approval for an Apache helicopter to search the area beginning that evening. Before taking the next step to unearth the bodies, she would also meet with each of the families personally. A renowned medical coroner and a forensic pathologist were standing by to analyze their remains.

  In one hour, Noble was scheduled to meet Paolo at the Blackfinn Saloon. He had made arrangements weeks earlier to meet with his brother-in-law at their favorite watering hole. And, after a day with a hell-of-a-start to a new presidency, he was ready for some light-hearted conversation.

  6

  IL FRATELLO

  Ciao Paolo,” Noble shouted, as he maneuvered across the crowded room and made his way toward the man seated in the last booth. “You look exhausted.” Paolo observed, genuinely worried about his brother-in-law.

  “What I need is to sit down and enjoy a drink with my dear friend.”

  “Perfetto. I took the liberty of ordering a bottle of 1997 Capannelle 50&50, a highly sought after wine. E molto buono!” Paolo winked. “It’s very good. You k
now the winemaker is a friend of mine?”

  As he poured the wine into two glasses, Noble replied with a furrowed brow, “Yes and thanks—but what’s the special occasion?”

  Paolo, usually up to something devilish, flashed his charming Italian smile, raised his glass, and announced, “A toast to the end of the Baari Administration,” adding, “Thanks to you!”

  “And to you my friend—you share in the credit.” Noble grinned.

  Years before Noble and Paolo had become brothers-in-law, they came perilously close to becoming fraternity brothers at Harvard in a secret society known as La Fratellanza, or The Brotherhood. Fortunately, for Noble, he had resisted all invitations to join this clandestine group—a group that eventually was responsible for locating, educating, and grooming a man deemed the Chosen One for the United States presidency. What started as a seemingly innocent intellectual game ultimately morphed into a devious plot. Unknowingly, La Fratellanza also had a hand in unleashing a terrorist inside the government. In the final outcome, Paolo and his fraternity brothers were granted immunity for the valuable evidence they provided. It made it possible to bring down the deceitful president, and it almost led to the capture of the notorious Simon Hall—also known as Mohammed al-Fadl—a high-value worldwide target.

  “I’m not sorry to see our forty-fifth president go, either, but that doesn’t change the restrictions of your immunity,” Noble declared in a hushed tone.

  Ironically, it was Noble, then the assistant to the former SIA Director Hamilton Scott, who lobbied successfully for La Fratellanza’s freedom. But, at a price that required the members to confess and to divulge the entire plot in detail. It was a no-holds-barred agreement. The outcome was generally regarded as a cheap price for vital information.

  Noble looked directly at Paolo from across the table. As he leaned toward him, he whispered again, “If anyone were to disclose any of the facts of the case, I would have no choice but to start criminal proceedings. Not a threat, just a friendly reminder, dear brother-in-law.”

  Paolo discerned the sternness in Noble’s voice, although he certainly didn’t need the reminder. Keeping his voice low, Paolo countered, “You know you can trust me. I value my freedom. I gave up years of my life for La Fratellanza, and then for Baari as his speechwriter and then communications director. It almost destroyed my family and me.” He hesitated briefly. Then, he implored, “Besides I would never put you in a precarious situation by violating our trust. I love you too much, fratello.”

  “Let’s get off the subject.” Noble raised his glass and said, “Salute.”

  Paolo was more than happy to change the topic. Instantly, the playful smile returned to his face as he quizzed, “How are things working out with your amore Amanda?”

  “Remarkably well,” Noble responded, mirroring Paolo’s expression.

  “That’s all you have to say—remarkably well? Tell me more.”

  “I enjoy her company. Surprisingly, I find it nice to have someone to share whatever little time I have. And she has been incredibly tolerant of my work schedule.” Noble, unaccustomed to talking about his personal life, answered Paolo’s question as honestly as he could—although he knew Paolo was probing for information that was a bit more salacious.

  “And…?” Paolo pressed. This time, though, with an enormous grin and that devilish glint in his eye.

  “That’s great, too. Now let’s get off this subject!” Noble exclaimed with a slight blush, and then quickly turned the tables on Paolo. “How have you been treating my sister these days? With kid gloves, I expect.” Clearly, he was enjoying the role reversal.

  “You know, we had a rough patch for several months after I confessed my role with La Fratellanza, but our relationship since then has been fantastico! Can you believe Mario will be eight-years-old next month? He misses his Uncle Noble and asks for you all the time,” he scolded.

  “Since Baari resigned, I have been inundated with committee hearings on Saviorgate, and now I am in the midst of another major case, unfortunately involving federal government activities again. Please apologize to Natalie and Mario and let them know we will get together soon.” Noble smiled. “I’ll even bring Amanda.”

  “Benissimo, they’ll love that!”

  Throughout the lovely family tête-à-tête, Noble continued to glance at his xPhad, hoping Max would call with an update on the air search.

  “How do you like that exotic smartphone?” Paolo attempted to engage, noticing Noble’s distraction.

  “Thus far, it’s been working great. The xPhad is somewhat thicker than an iPhone, but when you unfold the device, it becomes a tablet. It’s the same thickness as the iPad, basically the same dimensions.” He demoed his new toy for Paolo, showing him the full nine point, five inch, diagonal display. “Shockingly, the other devices on the market only offer a three point, five inch, diagonal screen.”

  “How are the search capabilities and the resolution?”

  “Actually, the 10-G technology is much faster than the iPad, and the O-L-E-D screen is amazing.”

  “O-L-E-D?”

  “The Organic Light Emitting Device screen technology uses a stretchable plastic between transparent plastic that is then infused with carbon nanotubes. It’s much thinner, producing a brighter light than the liquid crystals that are used on other screen devices.” As the metrics continued to flow off Noble’s tongue, he could see Paolo’s eyes glazing over and decided to end his techno-blitz. “It beats having to carry a phone and a tablet around. The xPhad with its combined features is the best of both worlds,” He boasted.

  “The technology sounds amazing, although I’m stuck in the dark ages with my less exotic smartphone. But it works for me,” Paolo bragged. “So what’s this major case you’re working on that’s keeping you so busy?”

  Noble glared back.

  “I know, you can’t discuss SIA investigations.” Paolo conceded.

  “What I can tell you is that since I was appointed director in 2009, I have become incredibly isolated, relying too heavily on others to resolve our investigations,” Noble complained, with self-criticism in his voice. “In fact, Max has been great as my deputy director. She frequently comes up with ideas that I should have concluded.”

  “What you do is of vital importance, and it’s great that you have competent people working for you.” Paolo offered supportively.

  “Thanks, but I was much happier being the lone-wolf analyst that everyone relied on for solutions. In director-mode I’m forced to delegate much of the responsibility. I need to get back in the game.”

  Sensing that Noble was becoming a tad dispirited during what should have been a joyous occasion, Paolo interrupted, “By the way, congrats for surviving Saviorgate. I followed the hearings but, with all the political posturing, it was confusing at best. What was the entire hullabaloo about anyway?

  “SAVIOR, as you know, is the SIA Vetting Information Organization Reporting system that I designed to vet all incoming senators and congresspersons. Hamilton alleged that without the requirement of having to be a natural born citizen to become a member of congress, there was the possibility that a terrorist faction could infiltrate our government. SAVIOR contains that vulnerability.”

  “Unfortunately, everyone knows that to be true with the spectacle that preceded Baari’s resignation.”

  Noble nodded in agreement. “The problem is, I designed the system to download information from the FBI, CIA, IRS, and Interpol databases—without their permission.”

  “Is that legal?”

  “Hamilton felt that the political ties between these agencies would impede them from operating efficiently. Hence, we circumvented them, contrary to inter-agency covenants.”

  “Wasn’t it Rear Admiral Grace Hopper that said, ‘it is often easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission’?”

  Noble grinned. “Yes, and that was exactly what Hamilton believed, and it worked. I was eventually forgiven and officially exonerated by the Congressional Inve
stigative Committee. Finally, I can breathe a sigh of relief. However, Hamilton had to cut a deal to make SAVIOR available to the other agencies, including Interpol.” Then, taking a rare opportunity to boast, he explained, “But not before I expanded SAVIOR’s capabilities to go beyond just vetting. It’s been developed far beyond its original purpose and is considered the go-to system for major international investigations.” Noble’s expression changed perceptibly as he grimaced, “Unfortunately, SAVIOR is now a matter of public record.”

  “So basically SAVIOR is a profiler on steroids,” Paolo jested.

  “Precisely. By utilizing information from the various databases, SAVIOR could objectively avoid any biases to an agency’s particular mission, develop a profile of an unknown suspect, or validate a profile of a suspect who has been identified,” Noble explained with atypical immodesty.

  “So SAVIOR provided the information that led you to uncover Baari’s deception in the first place?”

  “In part, but your initial admissions exposing the plot, supplemented by the information derived during the interrogations of your La Fratellanza brothers, filled in the blanks. They provided the launching pad for a thorough exposure.”

  Paolo became predictably sullen. “Over time, we concluded that Simon was involved in something more vast and sinister than only the game we developed at Harvard, but we didn’t understand his motives or his ultimate plan,” he declared. “It’s evident I was only a pawn. Hank took the lead and insisted that I convince you Simon was trying to gain access to the TAP funds from the Toxic Asset Program at the Treasury. Hank’s motive was to enlist your support to capture Simon, so we could convince him to stop the financial meltdown,” he recollected, even though he knew Noble recalled every vital detail of the investigation.

 

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