He held up two fingers. “Two. We agree she has gone too far and is a threat to domestic security.”
“She?” Linda successfully interrupted.
“He or she. We don’t know. I was looking at Nancy as I said it. Allow me a little amateur sleuthing.”
Nobody laughed.
Three fingers. “Three. We also agree that it would be a monumental disaster if the public were to find out about Samms. Much worse now. We can’t allow that to happen.”
He paused for effect. “What don’t we agree on, then? We all say we want the Rogues to come in. But we believe that at least one of you is only paying lip service to that objective. Going forward, to prevent a repeat of the Phoenix fiasco I’ve ordered steps to assure greater transparency among the agencies on each other’s undercover activities. There are pros and cons to that idea. And, obvious bureaucratic resistance.
“I’d like your views on two things. One, do the three of you believe you are going to be able to identify Samms? And two, what are your views on upgrading to full transparency among the agencies on undercover activities?”
“Or at least,” Moose said, “a greater sharing of covert information? Until we bring Samms and her Paladins in.”
Chapter 13
After the short drive into Mexico, then three flights over two days, May and Cheese arrived to meet Tom and Samms in Samms’ secured safe house the night after the Rogues Task Force meeting with the President.
Tom raised his glass of wine, “Congratulations, guys.”
They all clinked glasses.
“How bad is the firestorm?” May asked.
Samms shrugged. “Not as bad as if you’d walked into that sting and killed a dozen agents instead of one.”
“Was this near catastrophe avoidable?” Cheese asked.
“Well,” Tom said, “you avoided the really bad outcome.”
“Luck,” Cheese said.
“Not luck,” Samms said. “You’re that good is all, Cheese. It didn’t smell right, and you backed out in time. That’s not luck.”
“Is there a better way to assure having the needed Intel to avoid walking into an undercover operation in the future?” Cheese asked.
May shrugged. “I’d need vastly more resources than I have. My Intel surveillance and resulting operations with you guys is, literally, a full time job already. I don’t have a life as it is now, guys.”
“There’s news on that,” Tom said. “Samms?”
“The President told the Task Force that the DNI has been ordered to better coordinate undercover ops. To make sure that the various agencies are aware of each other’s undercover agents. At least in general. We assume, May, that you will be able to intercept those communications, right?”
She shrugged. “I don’t see why not. They haven’t gotten much by me yet.”
“The question is, will the various agencies actually comply?” Tom said. “They don’t fully trust each other and they never will.”
“No,” Samms said. “They won’t. They can’t allow that. It’s typical bureaucratic posturing. But with a Presidential and an ODNI order, they will have to do more than they have before.”
“What about the reaction to our killing the undercover FBI guy?” May asked.
“That’s a different matter,” Tom said. “That’s a risk those guys take every day. Getting shot dead in a busted operation isn’t their worst fear.”
“Getting caught and captured alive by the cartel would have been a much worse outcome,” Samms said. “As you each know, I went insane with fury when ISIS went public with that video of their torture and then beheading alive of those two undercover agents in Seattle. It was overpowering. Sickening.”
“It seems like centuries ago now,” Tom said.
“That was pure incompetence across the counter-terrorism agencies,” Samms said. “We had them in our sights all along. I raged for weeks and wanted to do whatever it took to put those people down. Consequences be damned.”
“And that, fortunately, brought the four of us together,” Tom said. “The Seattle disaster that created the Paladins.”
“Once you convinced me there might be a way to avoid the consequences, anyway,” Samms said.
“Is the Bureau looking at his murder the same way you are?” May asked. “As a superior outcome?”
“No, they’re not,” Samms said. “There’s no way they could take that position. The Bureau now wants us caught and brought to justice. They have much more energy on that now.”
The four of them sat in silence.
“Look,” Tom said, “we each have known from day one that there is no way we are going to be viewed as the conquering American heroes by the bureaucratic security agencies. We are making them look bad. And right now our activities haven’t yet reached the public. Only the government knows about us. When it goes public, the ass covering will reach monumental proportions.”
“They, and the President, are terrified that the public will find out,” Samms said. “That’s their greatest priority…”
“Not protecting American lives?” May said.
Samms sipped her wine, letting May’s sarcasm sit in the air for thirty seconds. “Their greatest fear is that their inability to stop terrorism will come to be increasingly seen as incompetence. That the public will figure out they could do better. And that they find that out because of us.”
“What happens to us in that case?” Cheese asked.
“We have risk,” Samms said. “But we also have leverage.”
“And that leverage,” Tom said, “is that the highest levels of the government are going to be continuing to try to stop us. It’s our job to keep that pressure on them until it becomes in their interest to find a way to not stop us.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Cheese said, raising his glass.
*
Three miles away two men met at the Washington Monument. Like twins, dark overcoats, black berets, impenetrable sunglasses despite the darkness of the night.
“You didn’t want to do this in a parking garage?”
They both laughed.
“Actually, that’s precisely where we are going. But first, I needed to make sure we weren’t being followed.”
“Your car or mine?”
“You drive. Your beat up old, indistinguishable Chevy. Anybody who wants to follow either one of us would identify my BMW instantly.”
They walked over to the Chevy in silence.
The driver followed instructions as they took a half hour to drive the five minutes to the passenger’s destination. Both watching instinctually for any sign of being followed.
“Good job,” the passenger said. “You lost him in the first mile. No sign of anyone else since then.”
Silence for another ten minutes. Then, “Left here, then a right into the garage,” the passenger said.
“You’re kidding. The Watergate? Really?”
He got a nod. No verbal response.
“Is such drama really necessary?”
“Why not? It’s as good a place as any. And it’ll sell tickets if you ever write a book.”
They parked in a space a hundred yards from any other car.
“You know they have cameras in here, right?” the driver said.
“Sure. You parked here at three-thirty in the morning. I’m unidentifiable as the passenger. Tell anybody who ever asks that you needed to talk to the wife of a friend. Or something. You’ll think of something.”
They sat in silence for five minutes.
“What do you want?” the driver asked.
“I think you know,” the passenger replied.
“Humor me.”
“National intelligence has been compromised at the highest levels.”
“The President?”
“Probably not, but not impossible. Some very senior person or persons with access to all top secret Intel has been using it to get out in front of the agencies. Sometimes, apparently even withholding or blocking communications among
the various national security forces.”
“Who are they leaking it to?”
“To a vigilante group that has been assassinating terrorists on the verge of terrorist activity. There’s reason to believe that this vigilante group is headed by a very senior counter-terrorism official.”
“What are you doing about it?”
“We originally put together a task force of the five most likely traitors, one each in the FBI, CIA, JSOC, DHS, and the White House Terrorist Task Force. The notion being that if one or more of them is the guilty party, the others will discover it. And if none of them are the guilty party, they’re ideally positioned to find him.”
“How senior are they?”
He named them.
The driver whistled softly. “You think one of them is withholding Intel and assassinating terrorists?”
“One or more.”
“If more, then it’s Nancy and Tom.”
“That’s why they’re on the Task Force. We now think it’s Linda or one of them. The other two fell off the suspect list early. No capability.”
“And what do you want from me?”
“We want you to find out who it is.”
“And then?”
“And then tell me.”
“And then what will you do with that information?”
“It’s not clear.”
“Right. Whoever it is, is doing your job more effectively than you could ever hope to.”
“Nice to hear. They’re also compromising national security intelligence all to hell.”
“Maybe you can let them keep at it and give them medals, while they help you learn how to protect secrets.”
“Maybe.”
“What are my available resources? Who’s my liaison? How am I protected when I piss off some agency director?”
The passenger told him.
“No. That’s not going to happen. Here are my conditions, I’ll work out of my car, give results only when I’m good and ready, and communicate only with you and the President.”
After several moments of silence, the passenger said, “Okay. We expected nothing less.”
“Okay. I’ll drop you off outside the garage. You can walk back to your car.”
“One last thing, what do you want to be called?”
“I’ll start communicating when I’m ready. You’ll know it’s me when you hear from someone calling himself Dark.”
PART II
DARK
Chapter 14
Linda Simmons looked up from her desk at the sound of the knock at her door.
It was the Director.
“May I come in?”
“Of course. It’s your Agency.”
“Always good to hear that the CIA is still in good hands.” He shut the door and walked over to her window. Looked out at the grey day over Langley.
He turned from the window after a period of silence.
“The President wanted to know how your trip to Berlin went.”
“It’s all in my report.”
“I know that, but he hadn’t seen it.”
She shrugged under his gaze. He sat down in the chair across from her.
“Would you rather we moved over to the table?” She gestured toward the divan and table by the window.
“No, thanks, Lin, this’ll be fine.”
She shrugged again. “You want some coffee? Water? A chocolate bar?” Gesturing to the bowl of candy in front of her.
He nodded at the candy. “When did that start?”
“Watching Nancy and her MM peanuts. Remembering my grandparents’ bowl of chocolates. Thought I’d try it. Dark chocolate. It’s good for you.”
He grabbed one of the chocolate bars out of the offered bowl. Handed the bowl back to her across the desk.
“You’re not having one?” he asked.
“The whole point is to test my self-control.”
He smiled at that as he unwrapped his, then said, “I was a little unclear how the President even knew you’d gone to Berlin, Lin.”
“Moose is apparently monitoring the schedules of the Rogues Task Force. He was checking up on me to make sure I wasn’t machine gunning upright American citizens in Colorado.”
“And were you?”
“In either case, what would you expect my answer to be?”
“Answer the question, Lin.”
“Are you here for my resignation?”
“No, just for the answers to a few questions.”
“Then, no.”
It was the Director’s turn to shrug.
Linda laughed. “Have you all lost confidence in me? Thinking I could be running around killing civilians in the U.S.?”
“Here’s the hell of it, Lin. Some otherwise, to all appearances, very trustworthy individual in the intelligence community is withholding information from the agencies. Probably even from his own agency. The President, the other Directors, the Commander, and I trust each of the three of you. If one of you is guilty, you need to help us find him. It you’re all innocent, then we need to look elsewhere for him.”
“I know all that as well as you do, sir. And oh by the way, you didn’t answer my question.”
He frowned. Looked out the window again. Looked back at her.
“No, we haven’t lost confidence in you, Lin.”
“What a relief.” Smiling, but getting no smile back.
“Have the three of you made any progress at all in winnowing it down to one?”
“We already got it down from five.”
She looked at him, but the Director didn’t respond.
“For each of us, there are only two suspects,” she said.
“Except for the guilty party.”
“Or parties.”
“Right. This isn’t a game, Linda. National security is being compromised with prejudice.”
“And bad guys are dying because of it. And the good guys are benefitting.”
“Is that how you view it?”
“That’s how all three of us view it. If it’s not me, then it’s one of you. And if it is me, then thank God for me.”
They stared at each other.
“And how does Moose view it differently?”
“It’s his job. The President gave it to him to solve, and he views it as his job.”
“Excellent. And the President gave the same job to the three of you.”
“But the President doesn’t suspect Moose of being a traitor.”
The Director actually winced at that.
“Let’s try this a different way, sir…”
“No, I want to make a point first. The risk here is that three exemplary intelligence experts, one an active U.S. Army Colonel, will each have their reputations sullied with this Task Force. Even if they’re innocent. The suspicion is contagious and growing.”
“We are aware of that. What’s your point?”
“My point is, Lin, that I have your back on this.”
She nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
“Now,” he said, “what was the different way you wanted to look at this?”
“Let’s say that somebody in that room is guilty. Guilty of doing a better job than his colleagues at intelligence gathering and at operations execution. Guilty of saving American lives and their way of life through excellent Intel and ops.”
“Okay?”
“When we find him or her, what on earth do you and the President want us to do with him?”
Chapter 15
“That’s impossible,” Samms said.
“Sorry,” May said. “But the Intel I messaged back to you is bogus. I’ve followed it to the end, and there’s nothing to it.”
“Could it have been tampered with?”
“No. I would have found evidence of that. I’ve scoured this and decrypted and followed it to the end. Everything’s a dead end. It ID’s a nonexistent cyber-hacking cell. I’ve confirmed it with two external sources.”
“Where did it come from originally?”
“It looked to be from FBI, but I was able to trace it back to the WTF at the White House.”
“So they’re now trying this after all.”
“What?”
“Sending us each messages hoping to trip one of us up. They said they wouldn’t do this without the Rogues Task Force approval, but it looks like they’ve done it anyway.”
“Is there a way to turn it back on them?”
“It’s tricky, of course, but there has to be a way, right May?”
“What’s the risk from trying?” May asked.
“That whatever we do with it, this Intel was unique to me. Anything we do with it, even if we mask it as a response coming from another source, they’ll know it was the Intel they falsely sent to me and only me.”
“Then I’ll work on a way to turn it back on them without compromising you.
“Or us.”
Chapter 16
Samms answered on the second ring. “Yes, Cheese?”
“Both dead. In their hotel room. No complications or problems.”
“Have you heard the news?” she asked.
“No. What happened?”
“Muslim jihadists hit two other malls at the same time they were going to hit Omaha.”
“How come we didn’t know about those two?”
“Either they’re getting better, or we’re getting careless. I already discussed this with May. She’s on it. Her initial instincts are that there’s a security hole at Homeland Security.”
“Not very surprising, if it turns out to be true.”
“Anything else, Cheese.”
“Yeah. Sorry, Samms. You’re gonna be pissed, but I forgot to drop your Samms card at the scene.”
She thought about this. Bound to happen sometime. Surprised it hadn’t happened before.
“Where are you now?”
He told her.
“How risky would it be for you to stick it in a windshield of an FBI car at the scene before you head home?”
“Consider it done.”
She hung up.
Mistakes were bound to happen. This didn’t feel like a fatal one.
The Point Of A Gun: Thriller Page 10