Brilliant New Light (Chance Lyon military adventure series Book 3)

by Van Torrey

  The next day, Rachel Hunter’s National Security Team met in the Situation Room of the White House to discuss the evolving situation in Vancouver.

  “Everyone here has a copy of the report,” said Marilyn Mitchell. “If there is any specific aspect any of you want to discuss we can do so, but let me provide you with a summary of the facts. My analysts are still going over some of this to get clarification, but this is basically what we know about the Vancouver situation.”

  A summary page was flashed up on the main video monitor in the Situation Room and DCI Mitchell continued her summation.

  ⚪Gamma and his escort were targets of unknown assassins at the Vancouver Airport.

  ⚪The female Asian escort died at the scene, and Gamma was wounded - not seriously.

  ⚪He has no contact information for the people who are shepherding the nuke, so he is basically twisting in the wind waiting for them to contact him.

  ⚪Gamma was fortuitously rescued by two covert FBI contractors who were assigned to monitor his movements, and were at the scene of the shooting.

  ⚪They are all on ice in a CIA safe-house in Vancouver waiting for directions from us.

  ⚪Gamma has been thoroughly debriefed by his former CIA handler in Pakistan who we flew in two days ago. He is the source of this information.

  ⚪In summary:

  §We do not know where the nuke is, or even if there is a nuke.

  §We have to do something that shows Gamma is still in the game or the mission will be aborted at some point and we’ll continue to know nothing.

  §We have reliable covert assets in place there who are capable of conducting professional paramilitary operations if we can supply them with a workable plan.

  §We have a limited time to do anything before we will have to ethically inform the Canadian government that there may be a loose nuke floating around somewhere up there. The strategic risk here is the more people who know about this, the greater the danger of a news leak that would cause panic and make our job even more difficult.

  “Thank you, Director Mitchell,” responded President Hunter. “This is a free-ranging discussion. I’m looking for suggestions.”

  Secretary of Defense Justin Roberts was first up. Roberts had a map of the Seattle-Vancouver area pulled up on one of the large video monitors. “We can launch a couple of drones at night from a naval vessel in Bellingham Bay. I can put an Argus recon satellite up for several days and a smaller low altitude unit that can work the dock areas at night. The low altitude drone will have a gamma-ray detector on it that is ultra-sensitive. If the nuke is in the area and if it is improperly shielded we might get a ping. Then we can have the Argus station-keep to monitor any human activity around the site. Both are stealthy with little radar signature. That’s about all DOD can do passively,” Roberts concluded.

  “I have a hunch, Ms. President,” said Marilyn Mitchell. “I don’t think Gamma was an assassination target here. Yes, he was wounded, but it was incidental to the killing of his escort. Think about this; whoever has the nuke, needs someone with the technical knowledge of Gamma to help them prepare it for detonation. It has to be armed, the detonation firmware has to be loaded, and there are probably a dozen or so other things that have to happen before this thing will detonate. They, whoever they are, need a healthy Gamma to help them do that.”

  Philip Johnson, as he was prone to doing when deep in thought, got up and began to pace. “I think what I’m hearing, Director, but was left unsaid, is there may be a second group, some competitive group, with knowledge that there is a bomb, vying with the original plotters to take possession of the bomb and use it for their own purposes. Thus the assassination of Gamma’s female escort. The big mistake they made was wounding Gamma and letting Director Wheatley’s boys rescue Gamma and whisk him away. If this is true, then we have two groups wanting Gamma alive, which is a whole lot better than having two groups wanting him dead!” he smiled grimly.

  “Assuming we know the original group were Koreans, as evidenced by the ethnicity of Gamma’s escort, does anyone want to take a guess at the identity of the second bunch?” asked Rachel Hunter.

  FBI Director Wheatley chimed in. “Two realistic possibilities, organized crime and terrorists. Frankly, I would dismiss the former out of hand. These guys are trying to become legitimate more and more every day. The terrorist angle, I’d bet on. Let’s see what NSA has in the way of communications chatter in that geographical area,” he suggested.

  Raymond Rollins, the DNI asked for a short recess while he queried the NSA chief on their analysis of telephone and Internet traffic out of the Seattle-Vancouver sector over the past few days. In thirty minutes, they had a NSA technician specializing on that area on the speaker into the Situation Room. “In terms of overall quantity, not specific to anything, we do have a strong uptick in the past few days. If you give me a couple of hours I can zero in on some specific targets we have been watching based on their travel patterns over the last month. Am I going to need a FISA warrant for this?” he asked innocently, referring to the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court that was supposed to overlook getting details of specific communications between people.

  Rachel Hunter moved her head a little closer to the speaker phone and replied, “What is your name, son?”

  “Flair, ma’am. James Flair,” he answered warily.

  “Mr. Flair, please listen carefully. This is President Rachel Hunter speaking. I’m all the authority you need to give Admiral Russell and Mr. Rollins anything they ask for. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am...absolutely! Very clear, ma’am.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Flair. We never spoke, is that also clear?”

  “Of course, ma’am.”

  That was the first and last time Rachel Hunter smiled that afternoon.

  *

  The NSA was everything and more that those at the highest levels of government had dreamed of, and everything and more that civil libertarians, and many otherwise informed citizens, had feared. In spite of the denials and outright lies of those within the management of the ultra-secret communications monitoring agency itself, and their masters in the White House, the National Security Agency had the capability to listen to nearly any telephone call, read any email between people wherever they were, see any tweet, intercept any instant message posted on the Internet, look at any Facebook or other social media post, or inspect any document posted on any of the numerous cloud-based electronic storage domains across the globe. They had this ability, and they used it!

  Since its fledgling beginnings in the mid-1960s the NSA had steadily grown, fueled in great part by the popular use of the Internet in the 1970s, and empowered by the demands of national security after the terrorist attacks of September, 2001, to become a virtual fourth branch of government. For Federal law enforcement its vast technical capabilities were too good to ignore. For politicians lusting for power and a desire to know the secrets and foibles of their friends and enemies alike, the information available from the surveillance hardware and software algorithms of this covert government agency was like an addictive substance. Once the Agency’s capabilities were tried and found useful and pleasurable, the desire to clandestinely dig deeper and learn more became something not easily denied, whether lawful or not.

  When challenged by those who knew the murky law covering such surveillance, or by ethicists who questioned the appropriateness or long-term consequences of spying on others because they could, those in power were quick to rationalize their activities under such glittering generalities as National Security, or saving innocent lives. Often the results had more to do with gaining an advantage over a political foe, seeking information about rival political groups and perceived enemies, or electronically spying on the leader of a foreign power, friend or enemy, than any legitimate need quartered in the National Security interests of the United States as a whole.

  There were rare cases where electronic encryption barriers constructed by high-tech coders rendered some n
etworks nearly impenetrable, and the dark zone of the Deep Web, frequently enabled by an encryption protocol known as Tor was worrisome to the NSA geeks because transmission of data required routing it through a series of independent servers for a message to transit from its source to the intended recipient. This protocol made interception extremely problematic even to persistent hackers. However with a virtually unlimited budget provided by wary politicians who gave knee-jerk funding to anything that smacked of national security, it would be only a matter of time before Tor itself was compromised by the technical acumen of NSA.

  Of course, even the NSA with all its capability, had finite resources. Just because one could listen, read, or watch, didn’t mean it did. Much content of telephone calls and Internet activity was so mundane and downright dreary that one could go quite mad being immersed in it, so there had to be a target, a place, time, name, phone number, key words or phrases, or some other trigger to pass through the numerous filters in the search algorithms, to focus on before an intelligent search could be conducted. As soon as the NSA was provided with some target parameters their computers and analysts could quickly go to work and come up with something concrete.

  *

  In a quickly convened conference between Wheatley, NSA head Admiral Russell, and a NSA technical team, the outline of a search was established. “What we’re looking for, Admiral,” spoke Wheatley, “is traffic around the Vancouver, B.C., Canada, area. This is where we are concentrating our search for certain contraband that we think may have been brought into that port from a location in Asia.”

  “Can you tell us what the item or items are?” asked the Admiral. “It could be relevant to the search.”

  Wheatley replied carefully, “I’d rather not be too specific, Admiral. This is so black that the President hasn’t even made the Canadians aware of this. However, it would be helpful if we knew of any chatter from the RCMP or other authority about anything they are concerned about around Vancouver. We have to keep a tight lid on this.”

  “Can you tell us who we might be looking for to eavesdrop on, Clayton? The “usual suspects” thing doesn’t work except in the movies and TV,” said the Admiral in an attempt to introduce some levity.

  “The consensus of the working group is people who are suspected of terrorist activity targeted toward the United States. I think the IRA is largely defunct at this point, so I don’t think Canada is the target. I’m guessing this might be radical Islamic extremists looking to make a major hit in the USA.”

  “Okay, we’ve got plenty of Muslim extremists we keep tabs on, and the location helps because they still use cell phones rather than land lines. Can you give us any key words or names we can use as filters?” asked the Admiral.

  Once again Wheatley paused as in deep thought, and then replied coolly, “Admiral,” said Wheatley, “may we speak in private?”

  Inside a private office in the bowels of the NSA, Wheatley said to Admiral Russell, “I don’t know how much I can say with your technical people out here. The President is trying to keep this very close and...”

  Admiral Russell took advantage of Wheatley’s interruption of thought and broke in, “Director Wheatley, excuse me but I think you’re looking for a nuke...is that true?”

  Wheatley exhaled a deep breath and allowed, “I’m sure you’re cleared for this, I didn’t know about your technicians, but yes, that’s what we think. We think it was brought in from North Korea, maybe as much as six months ago. Our best intel is we don’t know for sure it’s here and we damned well don’t know where it may be. I realize this is thin, but we feel our source is solid.”

  “Okay, but we can handle the containment on that, and it helps to know what the specific contraband is and where it came from,” replied the Admiral. “For your information, I did get a call from Philip Johnson telling me this was a balls-out project, so we’re on it right away. We work twenty-four-seven around here, so I’ll let you know the minute we get something tangible. You’ll be amazed what these people and our software algorithms can do with just a minor clue,” he concluded.

  *

  Ibrahim al-Faisal was a product of the Palestinian refugee camps along the Lebanese border with Israel. This is where life began. When he was eight both his parents died before his eyes in shelling between Hezbollah and the IDF. Ibrahim was part of a group of twelve orphaned children shipped off to Iran for their safety. He was soon adopted by a wealthy childless Iranian couple. Al-Faisal was smothered in love by his adoptive mother whose husband paid far more attention to his business than his family. The husband soon became jealous of his wife’s affection for Ibrahim and sent him off to boarding school in England. Aside from holiday visits back to Iran, Ibrahim soon became more at home in London than Tehran. His father insisted he spend as much time at an Islamic mosque as possible and the Imam there took Ibrahim under his wing and created an Islamic home for the bright young man. Al-Faisal earned his college degree in England, but never assimilated into the Anglo culture. Instead he became immersed in the fundamentalist Islamic way of thinking and became a scholar and teacher of Islamic history in the mosque.

  Al-Faisal was offered an opportunity to go to America under the aegis of an Islamic group called the Islamic Wind. He had little knowledge of the group except their reputation among the Imams as a major financial supporter. But the lure of receiving a regular stipend and a nebulous job description of “Lecturer in Islamic History” at various mosques in California and the Pacific Northwest was enticing to him. He was mentored by a man known only as “Ali”, although he never met the man personally. It was Ali who instructed him, through message drops at mosques in the Bay area. Ali told him to continue teaching in various mosques throughout the Pacific Northwest and await assignment for a special mission “that would glorify Allah”. Al-Faisal was always provided cash in envelopes given him by the Imams at the mosques at which he taught. Life in America was good for him.

  In Portland al-Faisal met with an Iranian by the name of Farid who was a visitor at a mosque where he taught. Farid told him of a small group of men in Vancouver, who formed the nucleus of the Islamic Wind there. These men were poised to accompany him on a special mission. Farid explained the existence of the Korean group who were rumored to be in possession of a nuclear warhead. Farid also knew of the imminent arrival of a North Korean agent they believed had been sent by the North Korean Reconnaissance Bureau. The agent would supposedly lead this group in the placement and detonation of the warhead somewhere in America. Al-Faisal and the Islamic men in Vancouver were to kidnap the North Korean agent when he arrived at the Vancouver airport and keep him captive. It was hoped he could lead them to where the warhead was stored. Then an Islamic force could take control of it and use it in a terrorist act against the United States. When al-Faisal asked innocently how the Islamic Wind knew all this, Farid admonished al-Faisal, “not to ask questions that could get him in serious trouble.”

  Farid claimed to have no knowledge of a man named Ali, but assured al-Faisal if a man such as he described did exist, he, too, would be responsible to Farid. “There are many men who work for me, Ibrahim, but we all labor for the same master, Allah, whom we must obey while emulating his teachings from the Holy Koran,” he said.

  Al-Faisal was given the name and cell phone number of a man named Mohammad Khalil, the leader of the Islamic Wind group in Vancouver. “Until you receive word otherwise, you are to contact Khalil regularly and make sure he and his men are working to determine where the Koreans may be. We must find these Koreans!” lectured Farid passionately. “When you call him you must tell him you were put in touch with him by Farid. He will know you are authentic by mentioning that name.” Farid gave Ibrahim another infusion of U.S. and Canadian currency and was gone.

  *

  Ibrahim al-Faisal was screaming into his cell phone at the unfortunate person at the other end, Mohammad Khalil. “You and the others are complete idiots! You have shot the Korean, and now we have no idea where he is, of if he is eve
n alive. We need this man alive. DO YOU HEAR ME?!”

  “Ibrahim, I swear to you upon Allah’s name, it was not meant to go this way,” the man pleaded. Even though the leader of the Islamist militants was calling from Portland, it was as if he was in the next room, such was his rage.

  “I don’t want any weak explanations, Khalil, what’s past is irretrievable and will be dealt with later. Right now it is essential that you put all your efforts into finding the Koreans and locating the bomb. The Korean agent’s escort was to lead you to them, but that was botched by your people’s stupidity! I want you to give me twice-daily reports about your progress. No more mistakes, Khalil, or you will pay with your life!” al-Faisal concluded angrily.

  A thoroughly chastened and fearful Khalil spent the next hour making frantic telephone calls to the other members of his cell who were dispersed for security purposes throughout Vancouver to determine if they had been able to learn anything independently about the whereabouts of the Koreans. This type of increased telephone messaging between human targets - in this case Ibrahim al-Faisal, presumably initiating phone calls or other electronic traffic to subordinates or associates, was referred to as “chatter” by electronic surveillance professionals. The increased volume of chatter was frequently a clue that some unusual activity was in the late stages of preparation and about to be initiated.

  What al-Faisal and his terrorist colleagues did not know was that the NSA was listening in on every call within al-Faisal’s circle. Stealthy drones operated by the National Reconnaissance Office were triangulating on the geographical source and recipient of each of the calls, whether they were being made on cellular phones or land-lines. Not only was a case being made for a conspiracy to commit a terrorist act, but the locations of the conspirators were being geo-logged as well.