Travis looked at Rick like he had two heads and held his hands up.
“Yeah. That was a stupid question. You’re in the Army. I almost forgot not that I would disparage my lesser-respected brothers. Okay, I would.” Travis and Rick both needed the parries and thrusts of inter-service rivalry to kick start their creative juices.
“Maybe we can arm wrestle? That’ll show my jarhead brother how soft he’s grown…”
“Soft. Travis!” Rick jumped from his desk and went to the whiteboard with one of his stolen dry-erase markers. He drew a small arrow from the faceless man to a bullseye-type target. “Maybe we’re looking at this ass backward. We know we have an operation, but what’s the target? What is happening between now and three weeks from now? Did you get that information?”
“Rick, I haven’t left your office since you asked. Pull it up on your computer, but I like where you’re headed. We’ve been looking at existing intel to figure out what the specific target is. Let’s look at them and figure out what intel we need to confirm,” Travis said as he started to pace.
Rick accessed his computer and did a search on the intelligence version of Wikipedia. It confirmed that it was best to use TATP within two weeks of its creation with optimal potency at one week or less.
“We need to go upstairs right now! Rick logged out of his computer with a quick control-alt-delete, enter and with his three pieces of paper in hand, he raced out the door, followed closely by Lieutenant Colonel Strong.
They made the elevator in record time, although they could have gotten there faster if they ran. Rick didn’t want to panic the troops as he’d been taught. When they arrived at the DDI’s floor, Rick walked boldly to Dolores Stackhouse and announced his presence. With one finger, she waved him toward a chair as she continued to type something into her computer.
Rick took a deep breath while Travis slapped him on the back and laughed. They both knew who ran organizations like this. Dolores and her peers had been in charge since the early days. They were the ones who made things happen, granting or denying access as they saw fit.
Rick sat and fidgeted, tapping his toe at a high rate of speed until Travis clamped a hand down on his knee.
“Stop it. You’re making me a nervous wreck,” Travis said without looking at Rick.
Rick didn’t have a comeback to that. He stopped tapping and took a renewed interest in the only reading material he had on hand, the NSA reports.
When Dolores finally finished typing, she turned to the two men and asked what they wanted.
“We need to see the Deputy Director. We have some new information that he needs to know about.”
“When you tell him your new information, what do you expect him to do with it?” She asked pointedly.
“I, uh, I think he needs to know,” Rick stumbled.
“Then send an email,” she answered coolly.
“But this report indicates that the risk to DC is imminent within no more than the next twelve days!” Rick’s voice grew in volume as he tried to emphasize his point.
Dolores raised her eyebrows and looked over her reading glasses at him. Rick bowed his head as if he were sitting outside the principal’s office.
“So what do you want Mr. Banyon to do about it?” She asked, maintaining her motherly expression. He felt appropriately small and insignificant.
“We need more people, including local Law Enforcement Officers, LEOs looking for some possible things that could direct us to the actual target. We really are in a time crunch,” Rick pleaded.
“Well, why didn’t you say that in the first place?” Dolores answered. Rick stood up, appreciating her help by giving her a smile and a nod. “He’s not in.”
Rick’s smile vanished, and he was suddenly confused.
“That’s for the next time you come racing up here. The DDI is a busy man. He’s responsible for the entire world. He doesn’t have time for nice-to-know information. He has time for needs and recommendations. If you need to let him know something but you have no options, I won’t let you in to see him.”
Rick had been put in his place. He was a little fish in a very big pond.
“He should be back any time now, so if it were that important, you would have waited anyway, am I correct.”
Travis elbowed Rick aside. “I love you!” He said, probably louder than he intended. “I, we, bow to you.” Travis made a deep bow with a huge grin splitting his face.
“That was masterful,” Travis said appreciatively and sat back down.
Rick started to chuckle and found that he couldn’t stop. He coughed as tears streamed down his face but continued to laugh. Dolores followed suit with a smirk, then a giggle.
And that’s when the Deputy Director of Intelligence arrived. He stopped and looked at the three of them. Travis jumped to his feet and clenched his teeth as he tried to control himself.
“Sir,” Rick managed to finally say. “I tried to stop them.” He sobered quickly when he saw the DDI didn’t crack a smile.
Rick looked around to make sure no one was near as he stepped closer to Race Banyon. “Sir, a bomb attack is confirmed, here in DC, and imminent. I would like to present you some options,” Rick emphasized with a nod to Dolores Stackhouse, Executive Assistant and mentor to the youth of the CIA.
The DDI waved the two men into his office, where they shut the door behind them. Rick explained quickly and revised the timeline showing they were two days into a fourteen-day window. Also within that window were three significant days.
“The Wednesday before Thanksgiving is the biggest travel day of the year. Just like Brussels, but worse, the entry area of Dulles and Reagan will be backed up to overflowing. The ticket counters will be packed with people carrying suitcases that have not been checked. And there is no way to check people and luggage before a crowd forms. No matter where security is, people will bottleneck in front of it.
“On Black Friday, people will fill stores everywhere. Almost every person who doesn’t work retail will be out shopping. More targets than we can possibly cover.
“And finally, there are two Thanksgiving parades that I can think of, neither on Thanksgiving Day. One in Reston and the other in Silver Springs.” Rick hesitated as the DDI nodded.
Race Banyon punched a button on his phone for the intercom with Dolores. “If Dave is in, can you ask him to come over here, please? And if he has people in his office, then he still needs to hear this.” She answered by promising to get him, which confirmed to Rick who ran these offices. No person was too powerful to deny direction given them by Dolores Stackhouse.
After a couple minutes and without bothering to knock, Dave Allister, the Deputy Director of Operations entered the office. Rick ran through the information again.
“Think like an operator, now, Rick. If we had three LEOs, where would we put them?”
“Two at Dulles and one at Reagan on Wednesday, and then on Friday, the malls. I suspect ones like Pentagon City would be more attractive than say Potomac Mills. Four stories with a central area or people spread across fifty acres. Maybe Tysons Corners, Crystal City Shops because they have a great indoors, but also Tyson’s Galleria as that is where the movers and shakers will be shopping.”
“If you only had one resource, what would you do with it?”
“Dulles,” Rick said confidently. The DDO looked at the DDI, and they nodded to each other.
“I agree. Dulles is the juiciest target, and Wednesday is the grand buffet,” Dave Allister said in a deep voice. Then he added, “DNI?”
Without hesitating, Race punched his intercom button. “Dolores, can you get me the DNI, please?” He didn’t need to tell her it was urgent. She knew that before he asked. The Director of National Intelligence had been briefed by the various agency heads, but Rick had never had any interaction with DNI’s office directly or any of his people.
The phone rang, and the DDI put it on speaker. “Race, how the hell are you?” The gruff voice of the former Air Force General came throug
h loud and clear. General Thomas Dougherty was appointed to the position of DNI by the previous president but was allowed to stay because he remained as apolitical as possible within the higher circles of the DC establishment.
“Doing great, sir. I’ve got Dave Allister here, along with two hotshot analysts – our own Rick Banik and then Travis Strong from DoD.” Without waiting, Race continued into an overview of the situation.
“Imminent and Thanksgiving week, huh? I think we take this to the President, Race. I’ll set up something in the Situation Room for tomorrow morning. Gotta catch him and the rest before they head out of town for the Thanksgiving break. This is kind of a crappy time to deal with a crisis like this, but we’ll figure it out. Send your man, Rick, and if both of you Directors come, we’ll run out of seats.”
Race deferred to Dave as this was becoming more operational and less intelligence-oriented. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sir,” the DDO said. He shook hands with Rick and Travis on his way out.
He had the grip of an iron worker.
The DDI waved them away after the DDO departed.
They stopped at Dolores’ desk on the way out.
“Thanks Dolores for your help,” Rick said.
She looked up at him, looking him over, and finally answered, “It’s my job. Nice suit, by the way.”
“There’s some meeting at the Situation Room tomorrow that I’m supposed to attend with the DDO?” Once again Rick felt like he was being dragged to the principal’s office.
“I’ll let you know.” She returned to her computer and just like that, Rick was dismissed.
The Situation Room
It was Friday morning, early. Rick and Travis each held a Starbucks as they sat in Rick’s office. Travis had moved a chair in, and if it got too crowded, he’d move it back outside.
“We’re stirring up the world for three pages and eight total lines of communication.” Rick looked at his whiteboard trying to discern from the caricature what his target was going to be.
“When you look for a needle in a haystack, don’t be surprised when you find it, and it’s a needle, small and insignificant,” Travis said before taking another sip of his coffee.
“At least I was able to look at the Sulfuric Acid. There are very few outlets to buy large quantities,” Travis said. He thought with yesterday’s revelation, it would be an all-hands-on-deck drill. But it wasn’t. Things moved too slowly for his taste.
Then he said it for the forty-seventh time. “You’re briefing the President of the United States, buddy! You will have the greatest audience of all time when you fall on your sword. You know if anything goes south, they’re going to blame it all on you. And if you get it right and save the world? They’re going to take the credit. Man! I am so envious.” Rick couldn’t help but smile as his friend painted a mural of worst-case scenarios.
When the time came, according to the invite Dolores sent, Rick headed into the basement garage where the DDO’s driver waited. He looked suspiciously like the DDI”s driver, but Rick knew better than to engage the man in conversation. He nodded, neither expecting nor receiving a response.
When Dave Allister showed, they entered the vehicle, Rick getting in last behind the driver, just like last time, and they headed out at a measured pace.
Just like last time.
Everything was the same, and everything was different. Rick had to convince the President of the United States to implement additional security measures at Dulles in such a way as to interdict a terrorist with a suitcase bomb before that person got too close to other people. And if nothing happened at the airports, then they needed to spread their assets across the area’s malls and major stores. If nothing happened Wednesday, then he would sound like Chicken Little yelling that the sky was falling.
Did that mean he hoped that they’d bomb Dulles or Reagan? Rick felt a dark cloud over his head.
“Brighten up, Rick. You’re going where few have gone before,” he smiled broadly, and then returned to thumbing through his daily read-board.
“Our goal is to live long and prosper. Any words of wisdom when dealing with The Man?”
“Everything needs to be straightforward, and believe it or not, even though the man is a certified genius, he likes things simple, too. Maybe that’s the way he can boil things down for the general public. If he gets it at a high level, he keeps it that way. He needs your help in dumbing things down, to use a phrase that doesn’t imply anyone in that room is anything less than the best and the brightest this country has to offer.” He closed his briefing packet and gave Rick his full attention.
“From the invite list, the Secretary of DHS will be there. DNI will be there, of course, along with the President, the Attorney General, Directors of the FBI, CIA, the NSA, the National Security Advisor, Senator Webber’s staff intelligence advisor, and then some other cats and dogs. Anyone else you think should be there?”
“We’re going to need local LEO support and every bomb-sniffing dog this side of the Mississippi. Who can make that happen? And if that person isn’t in the room, then that person should be,” Rick said without hesitation.
“That would be the Attorney General, and she’ll be there. She can send a confidential report, but the problem is those reports have a tendency to pop up in the media within minutes.”
“Because we don’t prosecute the leakers, we have to risk our security?” Rick blurted out.
“Race said you weren’t afraid to speak your mind. My advice, take it or leave it, don’t say that in there.” Dave shook his head. He had more faith in Rick than that, but he had to cover himself. If Rick said anything that offended anyone, the DDO wouldn’t protect him. He knew Rick was aware of this, but as long as it remained unspoken, they could maintain cordial relations. It was part of the game played in Washington DC. Find a scapegoat, make counter-accusations, and deny everything.
“I get you, sir. Have no fear. I won’t embarrass the Agency.”
They were dropped off at a back entrance to the White House. The route to the situation room was convoluted, to say the least. Rick felt like a secret lover getting escorted in the back door and through hidden passages to the mistress’ chamber.
When they finally made it, they weren’t the first to arrive. Half the chairs were taken. He recognized the major players, although they looked older than their pictures that hung on walls throughout DC. The DDO took a seat in the middle of the table, a few down from the President’s chair. He motioned Rick to sit next to him. Rick swallowed hard as he looked around. He finally had a place at the big table, and he didn’t want it.
Two weeks ago he was pushed up against the wall while minor leaguers argued. Today, he was in the big chair next to people who belonged there. They talked among themselves without saying anything. Rick recognized the political undertones between the agencies. They all fought for funding. They all considered themselves the most critical in the nation’s fight for freedom.
Yet nothing was different. He still hunted the faceless man. He’d be able to bring more assets to bear, but the target never changed. That was the foundation he’d stand on for today’s briefing.
“Find that man,” he murmured as he prepared himself to speak.
Eight came and went. Then 8:30. At 8:45, everyone stood as the President entered the room and sat down. Rick studied the most powerful man in the world until he felt a tug on his arm. He sat down quickly while others in the room snickered.
The President looked away from Rick and greeted each of the senior members around the table. How’s your wife? Is that son of yours setting any track records? How about your new Deputy; how’s he working out for you? Did you enjoy your vacation in Cabo?
As Dave had advised, the President was extremely intelligent.
Rick was, too. He knew that the meeting was scheduled for an hour and in fifteen minutes, twelve now, the President would probably leave. Rick had to make his pitch in five minutes or less, and it had to influence not just the most powerful man in the w
orld, but every other person in the room.
“Well, Dave, Tom tells me you have some alarming news that we need to do something with. The floor is yours.”
“Thank you, Mister President. I know this will surprise you, but I have nothing to say.” Some around the table chuckled, others nodded. “Let me turn the floor over to our lead on this, Rick Banik. Rick was instrumental in setting us up to find the terror cell operating out of Bagdad Market. We believe they were one part of a multi-pronged, yet uncoordinated effort by Da’esh to attack Washington DC.” Dave ended by scooting his chair backward so the President could better see Rick.
“That’s an awful lot for saying nothing, Dave. Welcome to the big dance, Rick. What do you have for us today?” The President asked.
“Good morning Mr. President. Here’s the five-minute version and after that, if you think we need more time, it’s your call.” Rick took a deep breath as the President nodded.
“Two weeks ago the NSA intercepted a communication between one of Da’esh’s people who we determined was here in the United States. The handler in Syria let slip about an attack that would light the sky on fire. DHS cordially offered their Fusion Center where we stood up a Joint Terrorism Task Force Tiger Team to find Da’esh’s agent here in the United States. I call him the faceless man because we believe that he stays in the shadows while still blending in.
“As part of our efforts, the FBI uncovered radical recruitment out of the Bagdad Market. The raid resulted in seven dead alleged terrorists and one captured. The FBI had one team member injured, but I’m happy to say that although Xandrie Kovak is paralyzed from the waist down, she’ll be going home in just a few days to further her recovery. I have it on good authority that she’s going to join our analytical team at the Agency.” Rick waited as the President smiled and nodded, congratulating the Director of the FBI.
People Raged: and the Sky Was on Fire-Compendium (Rick Banik Thrillers Book 1) Page 18