The Point Of A Gun: Thriller

by Steven W. Kohlhagen

  He grinned.

  “Same old Linda. Doesn’t let anything go.”

  They shook hands and moved to the table by the window.

  “No. I ran into three startled former colleagues on the way up. Niceties take time.”

  “Especially when you’re undercover?”

  “Especially. And even more especially when one of them is your suspicious Director.”

  They both laughed.

  “Ah. The Director must have been at least curious to see you here.”

  “Yes, even though the President had briefed him on my purpose.”

  “Ah. The President? And here I thought you were retired, Jack.”

  “I was.”

  “Are you going to tell me the purpose of this visit, or make me beg?”

  “Are you Samms, Linda?”

  She stared at him, working it through. Having to put it all together before she said anything.

  Finally, she said, “Ah. So Jack Licht is the President’s spy. It makes sense, now that I think back. Who better to spy on all the agencies at once? How’d the Director like knowing you were spying on his anti-terrorism division head?”

  “Well, he’d had plenty of time to get used to the fact that the President had someone spying on the five of you. My guess is he was no happier or less happy that it’s me than if it had been somebody else.”

  “Fair enough. Before you have to go to the trouble to point out that I didn’t answer your question, Jack, no, I’m not Samms.”

  “How disappointing. It would’ve made my job so much easier.”

  She shrugged. Smiled.

  “But stay with me for a minute, Linda. Let’s say you are Samms and that you’ve found a technicality to rationalize making a mistake in your answer, or maybe have forgotten. Did you suspect me when you sent Cheese to recruit me? Were you warning me that my cover had been blown? Or is this going to be the best example ever of the exception that proves the rule that there are no coincidences?”

  “Since I’m not Samms, I can’t answer with any confidence. And, frankly, I’ve never understood what the exception that proves the rule even means.”

  “Me either. Frankly.”

  “Did the Paladins really send Cheese to recruit you? While you were secretly spying on the Rogues Task Force? Really? That’s amazing.”

  “If you were Samms, you’d already have known that.”

  “My thought exactly. But, since I’m not, and since you’ve asked, my guess is that the Paladins simply made a mistake by sending Cheese to recruit you.”

  “So, a coincidence then?”

  “Yes. That’d be my best guess.”

  “Would’ve loved to have been a fly on the wall when you figured that out.”

  “Actually, Jack, no need. You were sitting in that chair the moment I figured it out. About two minutes ago.”

  “I meant if you were Samms.”

  “I know what you meant, Jack.”

  They both leaned back. Looked out the window together.

  “Tell me, Jack. Why have you and the President decided to come out of the dark on this?”

  “For the same reason he disbanded the Rogues Task Force. It was getting nowhere. One or two of you are running the Paladins operation, and the others were not making any progress finding out the culprits. In fact, it was starting to feel like we were going to wind up with all three of you recruited to the cause.”

  “But not you, right?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because you used the word culprits to describe them rather than traitors. Maybe the White House is softening on these vigilantes?”

  “No. Not now that they’ve created a new problem for the government.”

  “How’s that?”

  “You’ve heard about the Columbus bombing?”

  “Sure. It was in all the papers. CNN. That was the Paladins?”

  “You can’t kid a kidder, Linda. So don’t try. If you’ve stopped following your daily terrorism briefings, the CIA will need a new counter-terrorism head.”

  She shrugged. Indicated he should continue.

  “You know full well that they were able to hide the facts of the Colorado Springs murders from the press. Investigating an attack by a rival militia, blah, blah, blah. But the Columbus bombing is another story entirely. Killing six terrorists is one thing. Blowing up a building, a piece of private property in the middle of a city, is going to be more than a fifteen minutes of fame story.”

  “We’re above my pay grade, here Professor. I’m not allowed to concern myself with problems in Dayton, Ohio. Or have you forgotten?”

  “Columbus. Columbus, Ohio.”

  She shrugged. “See. Domestic U.S. Not my area of expertise.”

  “Try to keep up with me here, Linda. I think it’ll be worth your time in the end.”

  She indicated acceptance.

  “Excellent, then. What are the possible vague official explanations for that explosion, given the nuisance of having a free press? Accident? Vehemently denied by all the insurance and fire investigators, both anonymous and on the record. The FBI was unable to suppress the local officials’ understandable desire to tell the truth about a local disaster.

  “Some Somalis with a vendetta against the owner? Interesting hypothesis. The White House and the State Department are looking into putting that one out there. Could take up some space. But there’s nothing on this guy. Apolitical both back at home and here. New immigrant. Nice smile. No suspects.”

  “Follow the money,” Linda said.

  “Exactly. The FOX News plot. Problem is that it has no legs. The closest thing to anything to sniff around is a Muslim Brotherhood connection. The only possible financial link is a very small loan through three bogus corporate entities that traces back to a foundation that might have a connection. But even FOX can’t come up with a motive for blowing up a building as a result of that.

  “Last could be a rival jihadist group that wanted to take out the owner and his six buddies asleep in the building. But it’s too preposterous to hold water. Plus, why would they take the trouble to save the owner of the building.”

  “Did somebody do that? Save the owner?”

  “That’s top secret. At least it is until some enterprising reporter checks the hospital records, the FBI leaks it, or the man actually blabs it to someone.”

  “Hospital?”

  Licht looked carefully at Linda.

  “Yes, hospital. By the way, Linda, when Cheese came to that restaurant that night for our little surprise visit. He sent a young Asian woman ahead. She was observing our conversation from a corner by the bar.”

  Linda just looked at him. Waiting.

  “Can I get a glass of water or a coke?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry, Jack. Sure.” She pushed the buzzer and asked her assistant to please bring in some bottled water. “Dark chocolate,” pointing to the bowl on her desk.

  “No thanks.”

  After the assistant brought the water and had left, Licht sat back down. “Where was I?”

  “Something about an Asian girl with Cheese and you in a bar months ago.”

  “Right. Well, wouldn’t you know it, but this same Asian woman turns up in Columbus, Ohio in the days before the explosion. And the night before, she apparently shot the owner of the building with a high powered tranquilizer gun, put him in the back of a car, and left him in a parking garage to be found the next morning. Police found him in the hospital two days later.”

  “And you are telling me this, why?”

  “Because you asked about the hospital.”

  “Right. I interrupted you. Sorry.”

  “Well, I was pretty much done. The press isn’t going to let this story die like they did Colorado Springs. There’s no glib explanation like there was for that operation. The President and the FBI Director have already had to duck exploratory questions about whether there’s a vigilante group out there killing terrorists. Frankly, that’s the best guess for the press on
the Columbus operation. Don’t you agree?”

  “This isn’t my job here at the Agency, Jack, but why don’t you, the FBI, the ODNI, etc., pay off the owner and tell the public it was the work of a covert anti-terrorist force. The public would say it’s about time.”

  “This is America, Linda. Not Russia. If the Paladins had surrounded the building and some jihadists were killed either trying to escape or fighting them, we could probably find a way to bring them in under cover and claim the success of a secret anti-terrorist operation. But the U.S. government doesn’t blow up private property containing six unindicted immigrants.”

  “Waco?”

  “That was a gun battle. This was a demolition.”

  “Could open up a constructive dialogue, Jack. Some citizens might ask why the government doesn’t do that in cases like this.”

  “You still claiming you’re not Samms?”

  She laughed. “I’m not Samms, Jack.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re right.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “Because the Asian woman in Columbus who drugged the apartment owner?”

  “Yes?”

  “Before she left Columbus after the explosion and flew from Cincinnati to Dallas, she left the Samms calling card with the drugged Somalian.

  “I’ve seen her pictures, Linda. No way could you pass for her.”

  Chapter 37

  Licht sat in his office in the Eisenhower Executive Office Building, or the OEOB, the “Old Executive Office Building,” as everyone in D.C. persisted in calling it. He was waiting for Colonel Tom Edwards to come by after the Intelligence Deputies Committee meeting.

  He probably would get no advanced notice. Tom would just walk over from the meeting next door at the White House.

  But he was wrong. His phone rang. The President calling. The meeting was over.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Hey Jack. Moose tells me that you feel we’re close to identifying more of the vigilantes.”

  “We can now positively identify two of them. But don’t get too excited, we still can’t find them.”

  “Do we have the young woman’s name yet?”

  “No, but they found the fake driver’s license in Dallas with a partial print. I’d say it’s still a work in progress. The FBI may or may not be able to work from that.”

  “If it’s her print, anyway. Moose says you still need more resources.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m meeting with Colonel Edwards about that this afternoon. As far as I can tell, both the NSA and the FBI are sharing everything they have with me. But it’s a little cumbersome, but understandable, to have to keep reminding them.”

  “Understandable?”

  “Sure. The agencies aren’t comfortable sharing information with each other, let alone another new, unknown party. The DNI’s herded cats, remember?”

  “You’re not unknown, Jack.”

  “But my responsibilities are.”

  “I see. One other thing, Jack.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ve thought about your idea about dealing with the vigilantes, and I’ve told Moose that I don’t want any more discussion about it. I don’t even want him talking with his people about it. It’s a terminated subject.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m sorry to hear that, though.”

  “Don’t misunderstand, Jack. I’ve decided it has merit. But you and I are to be the only people thinking about it or discussing it. It’s worth considering. But it’s too sensitive and too subject to being derailed if leaked.”

  “Yes, sir. I get it. It’s in your court. I’ll await further word from you.”

  “You can tell Colonel Edwards I’ve already spoken to his Commander to give you whatever you ask for.”

  And he disconnected the line.

  *

  Tom Edwards knocked on the door.

  “C’mon in, Colonel.”

  Tom ducked his head as he entered so as to take in all of the massive office. Up at the seemingly twenty foot ceilings.

  “Retirement seems to be doing well by you, Jack. This yours?”

  “It is. How was the meeting?”

  “What meeting?”

  “No games, Colonel. I’m aware of who attends Intelligence Deputies Meetings. Being retired doesn’t prevent me from following your career.”

  Tom shrugged. Walked over and sat across the desk from Licht. “What can I do for you?”

  “Are you a member of Samms’ vigilantes?”

  Edwards frowned. “By what authority do you come back and interrogate me, Jack?”

  Licht pushed the phone toward him. “You can call your Commander. Or the President. Although I would have preferred that after our long association you would have given me the benefit of the doubt.”

  Edwards looked at him quizzically. “Sure, Jack, go ahead. How can I help you?”

  “Best way to start would be by answering my question.”

  Edwards looked like he was trying to remember the question. Finally said, “No, Jack. I’m not one of the Paladins.”

  “Do you think Nancy could be Samms?”

  “C’mon, Jack…” Then he got quiet. Cocked his head and stared at Licht. “Oh. It hadn’t occurred to me. To any of us I think, that you might be the President’s spy.”

  “Nice, job, Colonel. If I didn’t know you as the first class poker player you are, you might have convinced me that I was a surprise. The biggest surprise would have been if Nancy hadn’t told you.”

  Tom shrugged noncommittally.

  “Nancy or Linda, Colonel? If it’s not you, then who?”

  Edwards looked around the office, stalling for time, no doubt.

  “I’ve been tasked to think about this a lot, Jack. I would be very disappointed in Nancy if it were her and she had not reached out to me to join.”

  “Maybe she worried about your loyalty to the Pentagon? Maybe you just missed a subtle signal?”

  “It’s not impossible, but I don’t think either one. And if it is her, I’m envious on top of being disappointed. The Paladins are protecting U.S. citizens arguably more effectively than the whole intelligence community. What have they pulled off? As many executions as there have been successful terrorist attacks? They’ve been able to be this successful with barely an epsilon percentage of each of our resources.”

  “They have the advantage of not having to deal with all the agencies stepping on each other’s dicks.”

  “Admittedly an advantage, I agree.”

  “Have you thought about how the Paladins have Intel not available to the sixteen agencies?”

  “Nancy and I have batted that around.”

  “And what have you concluded?”

  “I think one or more of the Paladins are former NSA contractors.”

  “Why former? Why not active?”

  “Let me continue.”

  Licht shrugged. Flipped his hand outward in a gesture of acquiescence,

  “The most frustrating aspect of all our jobs is our inability to use private corporations to access encrypted communications by and among terrorist suspects.”

  “The ODNI and Congress have been working on it with all the web applications and social media sites, and you know it.”

  “And have been since before you retired, Jack. Since Snowden. And will be forever. Sure, little by little, we’ll continue to be regaining limited access. Whatever the President and DOJ can get Microsoft and Apple and Facebook, etc. to agree to, bit by bit. But no matter how it evolves, the resulting bureaucratic process will be a nightmare for investigators. Nothing like actually being able to actually decrypt what the bad guys are saying.”

  He paused, then looked at Licht. “To your question, Jack, an active agent or contractor can be staring at messages right in front of his face, knowing to a moral certainty that they are actionable Intel, but with no way to read them.”

  “And a former contractor?”

  “Ah. Most of NSA’s contractors are wired into the private sector web, s
ocial media applications, and consulting community. Many have worked in the private sector. NSA’s current contractors know if they ask for anything that smells like help in decrypting, doors all over the community will be slammed shut on them. Hell, lawyers will probably appear at their door in seconds. But a former contractor who has close personal contacts in the applications community could potentially get that decryption help.”

  “How could they do that?”

  “C’mon, Jack, really? I have to spell it out for you? Money. Sex. Maybe even appeals to patriotism?”

  Licht shrugged. “Right. Blackmail. Drug supplies.”

  “Right. Promises of jobs. Hell, even just ‘girls do things for girls’.”

  “I get it. Makes sense. You’re probably right. So tell me, bottom line, would you join if Nancy or Linda approached you?”

  “Would you?”

  “That’s an odd thing for you to ask. Why would you ask me that, Colonel? Do you have authority from Samms to recruit me?”

  Tom looked shocked. “I’m not with the Paladins, Jack. It wasn’t a serious question.”

  “Well, Tom, the hell of it is that they did approach me to join. I didn’t miss their signal.”

  The shocked look slowly dissolved from Tom’s face. “Then why are you still accusing me? Who approached you? Linda or Nancy?”

  “Cheese.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I asked for the names of the others. When he wouldn’t give them to me, I told him I’d think about it. Give him an answer the next time he approached me.”

  “And he hasn’t?”

  “No. I haven’t seen Cheese since that evening. But I have had occasion to look through some very nice candid photos of him recently.”

  “Really? Where?”

  “That’s above your security clearance, Tom.”

  “Nothing’s above my security clearance, Jack.”

  “Okay, then. It’s above your need to know threshold, Colonel. At least until you, Nancy, Linda, and I find out who Samms is and how we’re going to deal with her and her merry band.”

  *

  The two of them then discussed Licht’s resource needs.

  “I’ll clear all this with my Commander, Jack.”

  “Or the President. Up to you.”

  “One last question, Jack.”