At 8:15 Harvey Crandall entered through another almost indiscernible door on the other side of the room and sat across the table from Malvone. The CSO was older than Malvone, probably mid-sixties, with a thin fringe of white hair. He was overweight, with a fat white face which evidently rarely or never saw the sun. More than anything, Crandall reminded Malvone of an older Pillsbury Dough Boy, and it was easy to see why he avoided the Sunday morning talking-head circuit. He reached across the table and offered a flaccid handshake, but his piercing ice-blue eyes locked onto Malvone’s with an electric intensity.
“This room is as secure as possible Mr. Malvone, as secure as possible. If we are ever asked, we have never met, and no one will ever be able to say different, am I clear?”
“Perfectly.” Malvone suppressed a sardonic grin with difficulty. He had often wondered just how this contact would be handled, if and when the call finally came. He had considered the possibility of park benches and dark restaurants, but had ruled them out as improbably melodramatic at the National Command Authority level.
“Mr. Malvone, the President has already seen your proposal, the red notations are his. We’ll go through them now, and I’ll keep this copy. All other existing copies will be collected and accounted for and destroyed. Is there any reason that this might present a problem?”
“None, there’s no problem.” The copies were numbered, and there were only five in existence. Malvone had written the proposal himself on an ancient IBM Selectric typewriter, and made the copies himself on a Xerox machine. There was no computer involved at any point to conceal an unseen copy on its hard drive, for possible later recovery.
“Mr. Malvone, the President wishes me to convey to you his extreme reluctance at…setting this plan of yours into motion. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and the President feels that we have no other recourse than to move forward with your…concept of operations. He accepts the necessity of going ahead with your ideas, as you have outlined them here in points one through seven, but he does not give permission for your steps number eight or nine at this time.”
“I see.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No. We can proceed, we can operate effectively just working up to number seven…as you’ve seen they’re in graduated steps.”
“Yes. It’s very well thought out. Rather disturbing, but quite well thought out. The President is authorizing you to go forward with a pilot program, a test program in Virginia, which seems to be where most of these problems are originating. You will take your team to southeastern Virginia for a period of one month. After that we will evaluate the results, and then the President will decide whether to terminate the test program, continue it at its present level, or expand it. You may operate at your discretion in Virginia, within the limits of your outline up to stage number seven. You may also operate, when necessary, in Maryland and North Carolina, but not in the District. If later on you feel that these boundaries are too restrictive, you may contact me personally by secure means. Are we on the same page so far?”
“Exactly the same page. I really don’t see a need for us to operate outside of Virginia at this time, unless it’s a case of hot pursuit, or we’re acting on extremely perishable intelligence.”
“That’s just how we understand your operational constraints as well. Good. For the time being we think you should try out your concept of operations with the present group already under your command, the ‘Special Training Unit.’ After a month, if everything is going well, we’ll discuss augmenting your unit with more agents from the ATF and the FBI and other agencies as you have proposed in section three paragraph four. But we will exclude any recruiting from within the Secret Service, the President insisted on that personally. Any personnel augmentation will be based on the performance of the S.T.U. during the first month, is that understood?” Crandall spelled out the initials, he was not an insider, and did not pronounce it “the stew” the way Malvone and the operators did.
“Of course. We can work with what we already have personnel-wise during the demonstration period, and then we’ll go from there.”
“Right. Now, I’ve already obtained the services of a contract specialist, an expert at finding, shall we say, creative solutions to the financial and logistical challenges you will be facing. ‘Mr. Emerson’ will be your point of contact; he is quite experienced in these matters. Arranging discreet sources of operational funding will not be a major problem. He’ll be in touch with you today.”
“Thank you sir.”
“Now this was not covered in your proposal of course, but the President and I agree that you should be promoted commensurate with your…unique responsibilities. Mr. Malvone, understand, we have simply not been receiving any worthwhile solutions from the conventional sources, nothing at all really, so your proposal has reached the President at an extremely critical time...
“We have ‘think tanks’ from here to Christmas, and none of them have put anything on the President’s desk remotely as promising as your proposal. I’m sure you understand that since your overt position and title as Deputy Assistant Director of your division will not be changing for the time being, we can’t officially have you promoted at this time, but be assured that your promotion to SES-1 for seniority and back pay will begin as of today. Congratulations Mr. Malvone, and welcome to the Senior Executive Service. Your promotion will have to remain unannounced for now I’m afraid, but I’m sure that you understand why.” Crandall reached across the table and offered Malvone another limp-fish handshake, but his smile seemed genuine.
“Yes, perfectly sir.” Malvone did understand perfectly. Today’s promised promotion to the federal inner sanctum, the Senior Executive Service, was meant to be his motivating carrot, and of course it had cost the President nothing. He’d put on SES-1 officially, permanently, if and only if the Special Training Unit obtained the desired results, without creating any disasters like the FBI’s fiasco in Reston. The STU was to be a ghost BATF division, its actual operations were to be strictly unofficial, off the books, written of nowhere and absolutely unacknowledged. If a STU operation blew up into a flap on the front pages of the Washington Post or the New York Times, the President and the CSO would deny ever hearing of him or the STU, and as far as that promised promotion to the SES…
“Does that cover everything, Mr. Malvone? Can you think of anything else we need to discuss?”
“Yes sir: air assets. To be fully effective, we need both fixed wing aircraft and helicopters. The STU has one single-engine aircraft available to it, but we’ll need the flexibility of controlling our own helicopters, full time, with crews answering to us 24/7.”
The CSO waved his hand as if shooing away a fly. “That can all be arranged. Mr. Emerson will take care of it to your satisfaction I’m sure. Really, you don’t need to be overly concerned about budgetary constraints. Anything else?”
“Access to current intelligence. We’ll need to be plugged directly into Trilogy, NCIS, TIA, EPIC…all of the federal databases and fusion centers. We’ll need to see the raw product of the Joint Task Force in Virginia in real time, and we’ll need the drag from your end to make them give us what we need. It’s been my experience that the kind of cooperation we’ll need is often promised, but it’s not given willingly, and I’ll need that level of cooperation for the STU to operate up to its potential.”
“Mr. Malvone, if you meet any resistance in accessing the databases or intel products you need, contact me on one of the secure phones that Mr. Emerson will provide you, and I will have it taken care of personally. We have high expectations for your group, but you also have the right to obtain the tools that you require to do your job effectively. Of course, this cooperation must be obtained with more than a bit of…subtlety. I’m sure you understand.”
Again, Malvone did understand. The STU was going to be operating in a hazy gray area, completely outside of the normal bureaucratic organizational flow chart. Getting the intelligence product was going to be
an interesting challenge, and in the end the push would have to come from the White House. How the President’s men handled this without leaving a paper or electronic back trail would be up to them. More than likely, the key decision makers in control of the intelligence flow would be given their orders one at a time in secure rooms like this one. No memoranda, no emails, no witnesses, and every spoken instruction totally deniable.
“Is there anything else we need to discuss now?” asked the CSO.
“No sir, not that I can think of at this time.”
“Fine then. I don’t expect that we will be meeting again, Mr. Malvone. From now on you will deal with Mr. Emerson, or in extremis you may contact me on the secure phone.”
“I understand sir.”
“Yes, well, I’m sure we both understand. Mr. Emerson will be contacting you shortly.” Harvey Crandall rose, weakly shook Malvone’s hand one more time, thanked him for his time, and left through the door on his side of the table.
After lingering a few moments to savor the ultra-secure “quiet room,” Malvone departed through his own door. He knew that if he was ever asked, Crandall would deny ever having met him in his life, and there would not be one independent witness who could ever prove otherwise. Neither man’s official calendar would reflect this brief meeting in any way. It was simply the way this kind of dirty business was conducted.
21
Virginia Attorney General Eric Sanderson was in his favorite place, standing in front of a bank of television cameras. There was nothing he loved better than being in the public eye, and today he was taking personal credit for pushing through a brand new anti-terrorism program.
While his aides gave him a countdown to air time, news producers were shoving five dress-uniformed chiefs of police around behind him like movie extras, framing the television shot for the best effect. These medal-wearing law enforcement officials went along passively with being grabbed and pushed like stage props: they were also aspiring politicians, and they cheerfully suffered the indignity of the moment in fair trade for the free television face time.
It had not been a simple matter for Sanderson to pull together a television-ready demonstration checkpoint team in 48 hours, but he had done it. He had the gift, he was going places and all of the important people knew it. Doors opened themselves magically in front of him as they had all of his life, from Harvard Law up until today, because success was Eric Sanderson’s birthright.
Now it was 11:59 AM on Friday, and a dozen television cameras were bore-sighted on his powdered face and perfectly arranged hair. Behind him and the police chiefs, spreading across the west-bound lanes of I-64 in Norfolk, Virginia State Troopers were directing cars at a walking speed through channels of orange traffic cones. “Randomly selected” vehicles were being directed onto the shoulder of the highway to park and await inspection. Desert camouflage painted Humvees at each end of the control zone provided the military “bookends” commanding the scene and framing the camera shot.
A careful television viewer might have noticed fully automatic M-16A2 assault rifles slung on the shoulders of the half dozen camouflage-wearing National Guardsmen posted evenly along the hundred-yard length of the control zone. Unseen were the dozen Norfolk Police SWAT Team members concealed around the area with their own 7.62mm sniper rifles pointing outward, protecting the publicly-gathered VIPs from the fate of Senator Randolph. Unseen were the three police helicopters orbiting high above with their zoom video cameras scanning the surrounding neighborhoods. Unseen were the Glock and SIG pistols beneath the suit jackets of the undercover Virginia State Police bodyguard detail, standing just off camera on both sides of the Attorney General, looking stern and almost Secret Service-like with their sunglasses and earpieces and coded lapel buttons.
Standing behind a simple podium jammed with a cluster of microphones, Sanderson began his prepared text at exactly 12:03 PM, precisely timed to give TV producers and mid-day news anchors a chance to begin their shows and then cut to him as the “live and local” breaking news story. Besides all of the local network news affiliates, several of the national cable news channels were also present, preparing to send words and images of his highway checkpoint program from coast to coast. Already his staff had been approached by producers from several network news magazine shows. One weekly show was already referring to him in a promotional piece as the “national gun safety crusader.”
Down the front of his podium there was a printed sign:
1-855-GUN-STOP
F irearms
I nspections
S top
T errorism
“Good Afternoon. On behalf of the Governor of the Commonwealth of Virginia, and at the direction of President Gilmore, I’m here in Norfolk today to announce the launching of a new anti-terrorism program. On the highway behind me you are seeing the very first of Virginia’s ‘Firearms Inspections Stop Terrorism’ mobile units, working to ensure the safety and security of all Virginians.” Sanderson paused to give the cameras a chance to pan across the checkpoint area.
“Beginning with the Stadium Massacre twelve days ago, we have all witnessed an unprecedented outbreak of domestic terrorism, much of it, tragically, originating here in Tidewater Virginia. Fortunately, the true home-grown militia origins of the Stadium Massacre were discovered, otherwise we might have placed the blame for that atrocity on our Muslim countrymen, as the conspirators had obviously intended. The Stadium Massacre, as horrible as it was, would have been even worse if it had been falsely blamed on an innocent and too often maligned segment of our diverse multicultural society.
“The Stadium Massacre was caused by the easy availability of assault rifles in America. Since the passage of the Schuleman-Montaine Firearms Safety Act that flood of weapons has been stopped, but realistically we know that there are militantly reactionary segments of our society who do not intend to comply with our new firearms safety laws. The sniper rifle murder of Senator Geraldine Randolph on Tuesday, the day the new law went into effect, is an indication of the lengths that a small but extremely dangerous number of gun fanatics will go to in order to sabotage effective gun safety legislation.
“We have also seen a local wave of firearms-related violence, such as gun store arson attacks, and the drive-by machine gun shooting of a mosque in nearby Portsmouth Virginia. The very location of this checkpoint where I am speaking today is itself less than one mile from where militia leader Mark Denton’s car bomb exploded, before he had a chance to plant his terror bomb in the Norfolk federal building. As we know, Denton was also transporting a virtual arsenal of assault rifles and high powered cop-killer bullets when his bomb exploded prematurely on the highway, taking the lives of five innocents.
“So today I am announcing that the highways of Virginia will no longer provide a safe avenue for terrorists to transport their illegal firearms and explosives.” Sanderson pounded his own fist on the podium for effect. “Starting today, mobile FIST units will be in operation around the Commonwealth of Virginia, and they will soon be adopted by other states as well, beginning in Maryland next week. These FIST units will provide much-needed security to all of us, by preventing terrorists from getting a free ride on our freeways!
“Now I am asking all of the decent law-abiding citizens of Virginia to assist our law enforcement officers by cooperating fully when you come upon a mobile FIST unit. Courtesy will be returned to our cooperative citizens, and only a few moments of your time will be required if you are asked to pull over for a brief inspection. I’m confident that the good people of Virginia will consider showing this cooperation to be an opportunity for them to play their own part in our ‘war on terrorism.’
“Additionally, I wish to assure those of you in our immigrant community that FIST units are not intended to harass or intimidate you in any way. The Commonwealth of Virginia respects and welcomes all of our hardworking immigrant population, regardless of their technical documentation status. FIST units will only be looking for illegal firearms, and not for immi
gration papers.
“In conclusion, I would like to remind my fellow Virginians that all semi-automatic rifles are now illegal, and should have been turned in for destruction already. Also, I would like to remind the hunters of Virginia—and I am proud to say that I am one of that group—that tomorrow, Saturday at midnight, the transportation of sniper rifles will also be forbidden. This is following the President’s last decision directive, which he made under the provisions of the Patriot Act, based on an ‘imminent terrorist threat.’ A sniper rifle is now defined as any rifle with a mounted telescopic sight. After midnight tomorrow, it will be a felony punishable by five years in federal prison to transport a scoped sniper rifle on the highways of the United States.
“Since the Stadium Massacre and the assassination of Senator Randolph, both crimes committed using scoped sniper rifles, we find ourselves in dangerous new territory, unfamiliar to law-abiding Americans. As I said, I am a hunter myself, and I am aware that many Virginia sportsmen will perhaps feel that they are being unfairly burdened by this law. But since this war of snipers and terrorists has been brought to us by a handful of gun fanatics, all of us must now unfortunately share in the burden of increasing security, for the benefit of all of our society. So you hunters, don’t forget to take off those scopes by tomorrow night! There’s still plenty of time to get to the range and practice with those old iron sights before deer season starts next month. I’ll be at the range doing just that myself, and I don’t think it’s too much to ask, as our small contribution in the war on domestic terrorism.
Enemies Foreign And Domestic Page 29