Into The Shadows

by Michael Brady

  Lucee spotted a young girl holding a boy’s hand as she was nearing Kenema. The girl, probably ten or eleven years of age, had no shoes and worn-out clothing. The young boy was dressed the same.

  “Where are you going?” asked Lucee.

  “To the city, with my brother.”

  “Where are your parents?”

  “They died.”

  “How long ago? How did they die?”

  “Ebola killed our family last month. Our village did not want us anymore.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “We are fine.”

  Lucee was impressed with the resiliency and courage of the young girl. The young boy did not speak. He was wary of Lucee and tightly gripped his sister’s hand.

  “I want you both to get in the back. I will take you to Kenema.”

  Lucee arrived in Kenema approximately twenty minutes later. There was a protest underway by groups of individuals convinced the Ebola virus was a hoax to steal blood. Lucee was aware that many villagers surrounding Kenema believed this government conspiracy during her attempts to pick up suspected victims. The open borders between Sierra Leone, Guinea, and Liberia compounded the spread of Ebola.

  “Hello. My name is Lucee.”

  “Hello. How may I help you?” said the young woman at the shelter.

  “I found these two walking along the road. Their parents are dead. Do you have room for them?”

  “No. However, I will find them a place. How did their parents die?”

  “Ebola. However, they show no symptoms and their parents died last month.”

  “You are sure they do not have Ebola?”

  “They are not showing symptoms. If they were, I would not have brought them here. I work for MSF.”

  “You will need to fill out some paperwork. Please be as precise as you can regarding their family.”

  Lucee finished and said goodbye to the children. A short while later she checked herself into the Capitol Hotel, an upscale venue in eastern Kenema. The hotel mostly catered to western business people and relief workers flying into the region.

  Lucee was an affluent woman whose father served in the government. Idealistic and determined, she left a safe and promising career as an artist to work for MSF. She needed to speak to a girlfriend.

  “Leslie. Hello from my beautiful country.”

  “Hi, Lucee. How are you today? I haven’t heard from you in quite some time.”

  “It’s horrible here. Protesters are in the streets convinced the government is trying to steal their blood. The losses in Barma are now one hundred and ninety-seven. Similar numbers are everywhere I go. We cannot contain the outbreak.”

  “I am sorry this is happening, Lucee. I wish I could be of some help.”

  “I know. How are things in Washington?”

  “Better here. You sound tired.”

  “I am, but more sad than anything else. I just picked up some children and had to bring them to a shelter here. They lost their parents and I’m not sure how much more I can take of this.”

  “Be strong, Lucee. They need you there. You are where you belong. I am praying for your safety.”

  “Thank you, Leslie. I am going to sleep now and will call again soon. I fear the numbers will be higher.”

  “Take care.”

  Lucee drifted to sleep dreaming of a country free from the killer disease.

  Langley, VA – November 8, 1:30 PM

  “Zach, it’s Doug Weatherbee. How are you, bud?”

  “Doing well my friend. How are things at HQ?”

  “The usual. Headaches, budget constraints, and politics. Same old bureaucratic nightmare.”

  “No better here but different circumstances. We are getting reports from all over the region that Ebola is spreading. I’m not sure this thing is going to be contained anytime soon. Did your office get the intel for the off-site your people requested?”

  “I did. Thank you. Feeling here is the same. That is why I am calling. One of my people landed in Kenema early this morning. They are looking into a report that Islamic State is attempting to use Ebola as part of an attack.”

  “Islamic State? They do not operate in Sierra Leone. You have reports of cells operating here?”

  “No. I have not heard that. But we have a source who said they were looking at transporting an infected person.”

  “Into the United States?”

  “Yes.”

  “How would they do that? Security at airports are tight, and they are looking for passengers with symptoms. Travelers are now required to fill out forms before flying.”

  “Another reason for the call. Can your people look at potential scenarios where an individual might get out? What I am looking for is specifically how the person would do it. What is the most likely course of action? You know Sierra Leone better than any of our analysts in the Directorate of Intelligence (DI).”

  “Doug, there would be dozens of ways. The borders with Liberia and Guinea are wide open as security is nonexistent. There is nothing to stop someone from leaving the country. The only real maritime security forces are in Freetown. Unless the individual is showing symptoms, they could fly out of the country from several different airports with international flights.”

  “Zach, work on the assumption the individual shows no signs of the disease. Give me your best estimate. Can you narrow it down to three courses of action?”

  “When do you need it? You know we have a slim staff here.”

  “How about tomorrow? I will call again in the afternoon. Sound reasonable?”

  “Sure, Doug. We’ll see what we come up with.”

  Doug hung up the phone and began the long walk to DI.

  “Chris. Got a minute?”

  “Doug, what brings DO in my office this afternoon?”

  “Have your analysts come up with anything in reference to the Ebola scenario I posed to you the other day?”

  “Yes. They do not think it is credible, Doug. There are too many factors limiting its success. Not to mention the unlikely ability of the virus to spread in the United States.”

  Doug did not subscribe to the theory either, but he pressed for the reasons why the analysts arrived at their conclusion.

  “Why is it not credible?”

  “First, we spoke with NCMI. They believe our immune systems are much stronger than people who live in Sierra Leone. Second, if an infection were to occur, we have the medical facilities available to treat the patient. An outbreak is a near improbability as far as NCMI is concerned. Third, what terrorist is going to infect himself, and only hope he infects a few people? The probability of mass casualties is again very low.”

  “What if the individual infects himself after arriving in the United States?”

  “Doug, how the hell is someone going to transport the virus into the United States undetected?”

  “Don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you?”

  “Doug, I’ve got analysts working around the clock looking at Russia, China, Yemen, Middle East, rogue cyber criminals, etc., etc. We are not going to examine this further. You may want to use your resources elsewhere.”

  “What about the psychological impact if just a few individuals are infected? The amount of propaganda Islamic State would generate is enormous.”

  “Then the country will be scared for a few days and turn their attention to the NFL playoffs soon after. Mass casualties are not possible, Doug.”

  Doug partially agree with him, despite Chris’ arrogance.

  “Weren’t you on the Bin Laden desk before 9/11? Did anyone back then think it was possible to hijack four aircraft and attack the Twin Towers? Did you forecast the Pentagon strike? No need to answer that one, Chris.”

  Doug worked his way back to the office.

  “Anne, please get me a secure line
to Michael.”

  “Will do, sir. Give me a few minutes.”

  Capitol Hotel, Kenema, Sierra Leone - November 8, 2:10 PM

  Michael reached for his cell phone after finally waking up from a deep sleep. There were two messages. He read Aaron’s first.

  Michael, Elif did not make it. She died this morning. Thought you should know. I pray for a successful conclusion to your task. Thank you for the information you conveyed to the pilot. Godspeed. Your friend, Aaron.

  Michael was devastated. Elif was a superb agent and a kindhearted woman. Nevertheless, he replied immediately to the Mossad officer he met several days ago in Tel Aviv.

  My condolences, Aaron. She was a gifted officer and incredible human being. I am truly sorry for your loss. Will you please notify me where her memorial will be? I would like to pay my respects in the future. I hope our paths cross again soon. Shalom, Michael.

  Michael turned his attention to Laura’s text.

  Hi Mike, yes, I am back. Great trip and many new contacts in the predictive analytics world. Lots to tell. It is unbelievable what some of the technology is allowing companies to do now. Get back soon. The French make wonderful food! I am happy to have met you as well. More than you know right now. Lol. Laura

  Michael opened his laptop and soon began studying the files on the Kenema Mosque. Satellite imagery showed the square building sitting aside two streets, one to the north and one to the east. Either approach would work he thought, but the northern street was closer to the primary road just one hundred and twenty-five feet away.

  The parking lot seemed small, but it was Kenema, so it did not need to accommodate many vehicles. Michael thought the lot was probably used by the staff, food delivery trucks, and maintenance crews.

  There were four light fixtures atop the building that surrounded the Mosque. Michael wondered if they worked in the evening.

  Langley also provided a dossier on Sheikh Cissi. A native of Sierra Leone, and born of the Jawei chiefdom in Gelehum, Sheikh Cissi’s dossier was slim. A picture of Cissi accompanied the file. It was taken by a local photographer in 2003 and Michael wondered what he might look like now.

  Michael read a few excerpts from public statements he made in Kenema. Cissi gave no speeches or interviews indicating support for Islamic State or any other terror organizations. The file contained few clues of the man’s habits, nor was there a psychological profile written on him. Cissi was a man operating under the radar of the American intelligence community.

  The report did indicate some references to his security. The Sheikh apparently traveled with one bodyguard and used several more to protect the Mosque at nights. Michael noticed the date of the paragraph to be November 2005.

  He sighed and closed the file. The intelligence Michael received on the man was outdated and practically useless. This would complicate his strategy to gather actionable intelligence and determine if the Ebola plot was genuine or a fabrication by Haris to flee the Islamic State.

  He reminded himself of the Iraqi scientist who convinced German BND and CIA that Saddam Hussein possessed weapons of mass destruction. What a blunder that turned out to be for the agency, Michael thought.

  Michael then examined the brief country report on Sierra Leone. At the top of the threats he faced, Ebola and criminal gangs concerned him the most.

  The report included early symptoms of Ebola. However, he didn’t learn much more than what was widely reported by various media outlets.

  The report also characterized criminal activity as critical. Foreigners and expatriates from the United States were targets for robberies and break-ins due to perceived affluence. Petty criminals also targeted many of the upscale hotels in Kenema. The Capitol Hotel, however, had a superb reputation for security among its international clientele.

  Michael finished browsing at geographic features, road networks in and around Kenema, and weather forecasts for the coming seventy-two-hour period. The remainder of the report provided nothing of significant tactical intelligence he might have needed.

  Michael’s cell phone rang.

  “Mike, it’s Doug. Where are you?”

  “At the Capitol Hotel. Just reviewing the file, the analysts sent. It is worthless. No current Intel exists. The only thing relevant was the imagery of the Mosque and his picture.”

  “I know. It’s all we had. His name was not found in many of the database queries we ran.”

  “Probably because he has not been targeted.”

  “Yeah. Sierra Leone has never been a high priority for collection.”

  “What does Freetown know?” asked Michael.

  “I spoke with them earlier. They are going to give me something tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I plan to scout the Mosque tonight and see what security measures I can find. Can you get Freetown to look into any cell phones he may be using? He may not even be here right now.”

  “I’ll pass it on. Mike, DI continues to believe the plot is ludicrous. They are no longer looking at it as a viable threat. I am getting some pressure to either confirm this or move on. I need you to get to Cissi in a day or two. Not sure if the Director has the stomach for more guessing. He’s been asking why you are not in Libya.”

  “Any analysts you know taking this seriously?”

  “I think one is. Apparently, INR has an analyst still looking at scenarios. She seems fiery and taking the threat seriously. I hear she is very good.”

  “Okay. I will push forward with the recon tonight and make a play for Cissi tomorrow. Any word back yet on the off-site?”

  “Yes, Freetown will provide me an address in a few hours. You will get it as soon as we do. It’s just outside Kenema and contractors are there now.”

  “Who are the contractors?”

  “A group of mercenaries recommended by Freetown. They have been useful in the past and off the book.”

  “How many?”

  “Four. They come highly recommended and I’m sure you will find them useful, if necessary. The group’s leader is an ex Nigerian special forces officer. He recently worked with the French in Mali.”

  “Sounds good. I will let you know when I have him.”

  “Collect what you can. We are pressed for time.”

  Michael hung up. The long flight from Hatay made him hungry for local cuisine.

  Hangha, Sierra Leone - November 8, 4:57 PM

  The four men dressed in local clothing returned to the trailer sitting along the southwest side of the abandoned diamond mine. Hangha, a dusty and nearly abandoned village, once thrived when diamond fever hit the region. In fact, Queen Elizabeth of the United Kingdom visited Hangha in 1961 to witness the digging firsthand.

  Hangha and many other parts of Sierra Leone suffered greatly during the country’s civil war from 1991 until 2002. It was Revolutionary United Front (RUF) forces, together with Special Forces from Charles Taylor’s National Patriotic Front of Liberia (NPFL), that took control of Hangha. The conflict would leave 50,000 people dead throughout eastern and southeastern Sierra Leone.

  Control over alluvial diamond production lay at the heart of the eleven-year battle. Old treasure hunters and young single men dreaming of striking it rich made up the bulk of the remaining population.

  “Okay, boys. It looks like we are ready to go. I will call our friends in Freetown. No one leaves unless I say so.”

  The middle-aged man pulled out his cell phone.

  “Mr. Thompson. We are ready.”

  “You have everything you need?”

  “We do. We just need a guest.”

  “You come highly recommended. You will follow all instructions given by our man on site, understood?”

  “We always do, Mr. Thompson. Send the first half of the contract to the routing number I provided.”

  “Just sent. I will let you know when our man is close.”

  Capitol
Hotel, Kenema, Sierra Leone - November 8, 5:55 PM

  Michael returned to the hotel restaurant. Standing in front of the maître de was a young woman wearing a beautiful blue dress adorned with floral colors.

  “I am sorry Ma’am. We have no tables now. All our guests this evening have reservations. Would you like to wait or come back in an hour?”

  “Good evening. I am sorry to interrupt. My name is Michael Brennan. I believe you have a table reserved for me?”

  “Yes, sir. We do.”

  Michael turned to the woman.

  “Hello. Would you like to join me for dinner?”

  Lucee agreed as she was impressed by the man’s confidence and pleasant invitation.

  “Thank you. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “I do not. I never enjoy eating alone.”

  “I am Lucee Ba.”

  Nice to meet you, Lucee. I am Michael.”

  The two sat down a few moments later.

  “What brings you to the hotel, Lucee?”

  “I work for Doctors Without Borders. I am just taking a few days off. It’s been a long two weeks.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I help them bring in people suspected of contracting Ebola. We find patients and transport them into field hospitals. I also try to educate villagers about its symptoms and how to prevent spreading the virus.”

  “I hear it’s getting worse.”

  “It is. Each week the numbers get higher. It is crazy around here. Hundreds of people have died near Kenema. If the disease hits the city, it will get a lot worse. Just two days ago, someone came into one of the field hospitals and stole infected blood. How crazy is that?”

  Michael moved forward.

  “What do you mean? Someone stole blood from a hospital?” asked Michael.

  “Yes, I cannot imagine why someone would do that.”