by Thomas Craig
Keeping one hand on the wheel, he pulled down his shirt collar to examine his shoulder, only to find it looking and feeling normal.
“That’s unbelievable Lou. Unbelievable.” He moved his shoulder and arm around as if testing to see if any pain would return if moved certain ways. It was good as new. This put so much into question about what Holliday thought was real or possible in this world.
“I probably should have asked before you healed me, but does this connect us in some way? I mean this is anything but natural. You physically altered my genes or body or something. It’s just not natural.” He was babbling mainly to himself, still fighting with what just occurred.
I explained that I might have some reactions or feel any serious pain he undergoes in the future. He shouldn’t feel any different other than healthier. I reassured him that people I healed over 15 years ago are feeling fine with no side effects. He started to look and sound more comfortable with the experience.
“Hey, do you think you also healed my knee? I took a bad spill about 10 years ago and it has bothered me ever since. Especially when the weather changes,” Holliday said with a grin.
I couldn’t tell at this point if he was joking or not. It had been a rather intense past 20 minutes.
“Maybe,” I said. “You tell me when you notice any difference. I usually concentrate on where the illness or wound is to focus the energy there. But honestly, it could be reaching other areas and working there too. As I said, this is not an exact science. No manuals to follow.”
“I’ll let you know. Okay, I think this is all super freaky, and very unnatural, but since we all land on the side that benefits, I can accept it and start to move forward. Let’s go talk to A.D.A. Gaffney,” Holliday said as we continued on US-70 towards Raleigh.
Chapter 6
NSA Visiting ATL
After observing from behind the glass, Holliday came into the room and excused the local FBI agent.
I sat across from Emmitt Gaffney, the Assistant District Attorney, while Holliday propped himself up in the corner behind me. Over the past twenty minutes, I already heard two versions of the truth and did not believe either one. We were still getting the runaround.
Mr. Gaffney was telling us stories about the CIA knowing about drug shipments from Colombia and how he came across the information through a confidential informant in a gang that cuts and sells the stuff. We both knew he had to be closer to all of this to be the target of a hit.
“Listen you piece of crap,” Holliday said with a very noticeable Southern accent. He had enough. He kicked off the wall and arrived at Mr. Gaffney’s side quick enough to startle him, and me.
“You keep feeding us this bullshit, and not only will you not get witness protection, but I will also send you packing to the cartel with ‘snitch’ tattooed on your forehead,” Holliday barked.
I couldn’t tell if he was honestly mad or just pulling Mr. Gaffney’s chain, so to speak. Either way, it seemed to be effective.
“Look, you can’t do that. You just can’t,” Mr. Gaffney pleaded. “Alright. I may be leaving a little out to protect myself until I get something in writing. I know names. I have been asked for favors. But you have to understand what kind of position I was put in by these people!”
This was about to get entertaining, but my phone humming on the table seemed to place the show on pause.
I could see the text was from Arya’s number, so I knew it was important. I read it and slid the phone to Holliday to read.
“Well, this changes things,” Holliday said to the room as he slowly handed my phone back to me. It was my turn to talk again.
“Mr. Gaffney, I don’t think we are going to need your services and I’m not sure you deserve ours.” The blood started to leave his face as I completed my statement.
“It appears we have traced the source of recent hits and discovered incredibly detailed communications on the darknet. I don’t know what you could possibly share that would be more valuable than the archive of info we just came across. Unfortunately for you, your name seems to be in many of these communications.” I overshared and slightly exaggerated the truth.
We knew we had a lot of information, but we really did not know what it all meant yet. Data mining could take days or weeks, and it required resources. Sometimes you don’t always find what they are looking for.
It seemed clear Mr. Gaffney was a ‘go-between’ and not many other names were used in the communications that Lauren had discovered so far.
Until Lauren returned to Atlanta to decipher the information we had, we needed clues to help us. Mr. Gaffney wanted to get his deal, but this had become a chess match between him and us. Each side had to show leverage to stay in control. Who had the most valuable info? For Mr. Gaffney, winning means getting a new life…possibly.
“Look, I seriously doubt you have everything. I know things. I know the name of the key Cartel guy that works with the local gangs. I know high ranking gang members that take the shipments and arrange for escort swaps. At least that is what they call them. I am fairly sure it is prostitution as well as human trafficking.”
“Where does the CIA fit in?” Holliday asked. He seemed a little more settled down after reading the text Lauren was out of the Hospital and already working.
“You may not like this answer, but there are some corrupt DEA agents, police detectives, and at least one CIA agent that knowingly allows these drugs to flow in and up the East coast. I’m sure they have been involved in the details of the escorts and the active displacement of law enforcement resources when raids are planned to take drugs off the streets,” he nervously shared.
“I need guarantees. I need something, in writing, that I will be protected before I start naming names. These guys are dangerous, and they know I know who they are. They aren’t fans of loose ends, you know?” Gaffney pleaded.
“Yeah? We’ll work on that, but you gotta give us something now. Something concrete. If someone else dies because you are stalling for paperwork, there will be no paperwork. You understand me?” Holliday pressed.
We heard Lauren was released from the ER a half hour ago and she was with Arya awaiting transport to Atlanta. Lauren was wasting no time looking through Charlie’s computer and finding bits of information.
The next hour became a goldmine of useful information that fit like puzzle pieces with Lauren’s previous findings. Gaffney apparently believed Holliday and was cooperating. He just might get his deal. We, in turn, would hopefully be taking down two corrupt detectives, several DEA agents, one Sherriff, 5 different lieutenants in two different gangs, and countless gang members as soon as the information was passed along.
Gaffney fed us information about upcoming VICE and DEA raids on certain gangs that ran the Ibagué Cartel’s cocaine on the East Coast.
One raid was planned for a few days from now and the gang already knew when and where it would take place. In instances like this, the corrupt law enforcement agents ensured the Cartels and Gangs avoided any loss of product and were rewarded handsomely. These corrupt officers and agents were few and far between, but they were cancerous and must be acted on swiftly and quickly.
The Ibagué Cartel was becoming notorious for trafficking high-quality cocaine into the East coast, using local criminal enterprises to distribute it.
The DEA and FBI had some dated information on the cartel’s operations, but Lauren discovered relevant clues pointing to one gang, the “Latin Lords Crew,” moving most of their product in the U.S.
The Latin Lords Crew was based mainly on the Eastern seaboard, identifiable by their obvious LLC neck tattoos. They were believed to be one of the largest and most organized gangs in the United States. We knew they were responsible for selling drugs, guns, and running prostitution through escort services.
The cryptic communications Lauren had read through were suggesting that some young women in the escort service were coming to the East coast with the drugs, likely from Colombia where the Ibagué Cartel originated.<
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A few major cities like DC, Norfolk, NYC, and Philadelphia had reported many prostitutes being South American, with most coming from Colombia. They were too afraid to speak about their circumstances but seemed relieved to be deported back to their home country.
Now we had information hinting that women were also leaving America on cargo ships to various ports in Central and South America, primarily the Colombian Coastal city of Santa Marta.
Lauren had her work cut out for her, sifting through mountains of data on the likely human trafficking going on. She would probably have more success once back in Atlanta on the supercomputers and working with the team of Analysts.
Gaffney also mentioned how he had to influence the District Attorney in the past. He purposely overlooked or did not pass along key evidence in hearings against LLC gang members. He claimed his life was threatened on multiple occasions, but I still thought he didn’t deserve any deal. I didnt like it, but sometimes a bad guy gets a pass for the bigger picture and the greater good.
No longer in the interrogation room, I had found my way down the hall in the Raleigh FBI resident agency office until I claimed an empty desk. I had to work on passing off the information to FBI headquarters in Washington DC as well as to SAIC Cooley. D.C. would handle assigning the lead and organize the foreseeable arrests. Holliday insisted they also collaborate with help from the US Marshals Service. I passed along the request, but it was not our decision whether the FBI would involve the USMS or not.
We hadn’t found any corruption in either the FBI or USMS agencies and hopefully, none existed to be uncovered. Regardless, the jurisdiction, in this case, meant the FBI would lead this investigation and make the arrests.
An hour into my administrative work, I received a call.
“Abrams,” barked SAIC Cooley on the other end.
“Sir?”
“Our team, albeit divided at the moment, is still assigned to follow leads on human trafficking links run by the LLC. Lauren and the cyberteam here had some luck in identifying the chief puppeteer; a still somewhat anonymous suspect who goes by the name ‘Taz’,” Cooley shared.
“All we need now is the identity and location behind the name Taz.” I hadn’t realized my stating the obvious was said with my out-loud voice.
“Well, Lauren is on that. She is gathering communications from his IP address on the Darknet that links him to drug smuggling, human trafficking, gang and cartel affiliations, and murders. Following the movement of the women will hopefully lead us to more leads, or better yet, to this animal, Taz,” Cooley stated.
Lauren and Arya had made it back to Atlanta. Lauren was determined to continue working on deciphering the data from the Darknet material.
Before we handed off Gaffney, as part of his protection terms, he granted full access to all his electronic accounts and transmissions. Lauren was having a field day with the information.
She was still bruised up and aching from the assault and the stitches on her shoulder and side itched. Arya and Director Cooley tried to order her to get some rest at home, but she was not having any part of that idea.
Lauren would have to wait a few days before I had a chance to finish healing her. Holliday and I were not heading back to Atlanta, as we still had to coordinate the hand-off of Gaffney and follow up on some developing leads.
In her research, Lauren kept coming across the name Santiago. Using her software and the network of FBI supercomputers, she cross-referenced it with every living and non-living thing within 1000 miles, looking for relevant patterns from the last 6 months.
She finally discovered that the name was on a cargo ship traveling between the Port of Santa Marta, Colombia and Norfolk, Virginia every 30 days. The ship was owned and operated by the Crown Maritime Corporation.
It was looking like the team would be heading north in a few days to investigate a cargo ship coming into Norfolk International Terminal.
The NIT shipping port was right next to one of the largest Shipyards in the world, the Norfolk Naval Shipyard in Portsmouth Virginia.
Given the number of goods shipped between the two countries, the pattern of travel to this US port was normal. However, when combined with the ton of information Lauren accessed and using that to fill in the gaps Gaffney provided us, we caught a break. Lauren discovered back-channel communications between one of the ship's officers, a Virginia Port Authority officer, and a known lieutenant in the Latin Lords Crew.
After making a few phone calls, we had eyes on the Port Authority officer in question. That interview would take place in the next 12 hours, as we made arrangements and were on our way to Norfolk.
Finding the gang lieutenant in the LLC could take between days or a week depending on his activity. Sometimes, gang members would stay on the move, checking on their territory. Other times they went underground to break up their patterns and listen to their intelligence about what is happening on the streets. Depressingly, their information was as good as or better than ours at times, and I fervently hoped that this time we were quicker and better informed.
We decided to pass the task to the DEA and Gang Taskforce to locate and bring in the suspected LLC gang member. Holliday and I would focus our efforts on the Port Authority Officer and the Ship Officer from the Santiago once docked in port.
◆◆◆
Lauren's data mining and code-breaking were working better than expected. Or, as the analysts working next to her in “The Bullpen” put it, “it’s hitting epic levels!”
As part of the overarching interagency collaboration in coding US intelligence and safeguard US Federal agency computers, the National Security Agency under the Department of Defense happened to send a few analysts and technicians to the Atlanta field office to assist with upgrading security protocols and review the formulas and algorithms Lauren had been using on the FBI systems.
The FBI didn’t rely on the NSA for security and coding structure, as the FBI had their own skilled technicians and a very capable cyber division. However, the NSA’s cryptology was world-class, and after 9/11, they had learned some interagency toleration and welcomed the DOD support and partnership on this.
Over the next couple of days, Lauren’s name percolated through the ranks of the NSA. It had happened once before when the FBI and the NSA were both recruiting her while she was in college.
This time around, it wasn’t recruiters; NSA analysts and technicians who finished their tasks early stuck around to spend an extra two days in Atlanta, hanging around Lauren to observe her in her element.
It was quite the show. At times, her contagious enthusiasm got the NSA analysts involved. Their laptops, systems, and software were equally sophisticated and impressed Lauren at times. The ‘Data Jocks’ in the Bullpen joked all that was missing was a cage, as Lauren playfully battled with two of the NSA analysts on who could mine data the fastest.
Still suffering from the effects of being shot, she still worked 12 hours a day. She crushed data, striving to uncover more leads. Already effective, her efforts were bolstered significantly by the support of the surprisingly interested NSA team.
At one point the NSA team stopped everything.
“Hold on. Hold on! Bring that code up. Go back, bring that code up, and pause it,” said one of the analysts excitedly.
Lauren did what she was asked, then looked at the NSA team. After spending time with them over a day, Lauren realized that while she was working with these people, she had neglected to even learn their names. She was pretty sure the woman was the more senior one of the NSA team of analysts on this trip. The senior agent was giving Lauren a look. Lauren knew this look. She had been on the receiving end of this look more than once by her MIT professors when Lauren would stop following their instructions, bypass all the “necessary steps” to solve a problem, and just arrive at a correct answer.
The senior NSA agent asked, “I thought I was looking at C code, but the performance output is so advanced. Then I thought of C++ code, right? Because the algorithms and
data structure are so sophisticated. But I have never seen C++ get around so many compatibility and dependency issues for what you are doing with this data and these search criteria. This code isn’t anything I have seen before. What are you tapped into right now? This has to be going beyond the FBI’s system.”
“Well, the code is known as LO code. Not many people have heard of it because I created it for personal use. Ever since you logged into the NSA database and started your programs, my code has been piggybacking on your NSA access and combining the data from both agencies in my private database where my data-mining application runs,” Lauren explained.
“You just broke 3 laws that I know of and I’m sure you are putting both agencies at risk by circumventing our security protocols,” the lead NSA agent said. She went from being impressed and inquisitive, to noticeably upset and concerned.
The two other NSA technicians looked at each other as if deciding which one would speak. The taller one, who looked a little like Boston Celtics Hall of Famer Kevin McHale, decided he would break the news to Lauren.
“You can’t circumvent NSA security. I mean that literally. You can’t. As in, you are not able to. It is our newest security, and hundreds of the best programmers in the world developed this and could not break it,” he said as a matter of fact. “So, that is not our data you are mining.”
“No, I get it. Egos are tough to let go of in the tech security world. I think that is why I have so much fun breaking the unbreakable. I really like creating things in a new way in the face of experts saying, ‘that’s not the way it’s done’,” Lauren answered.
“However, what I’m doing right now is safe and secure. I have upgraded your new NSA security code and I assure you that we are still in our firewalls having loads of semi-legal fun crushing data,” Lauren said with a smile to her FBI coworkers who sat next to her with wide grins on their faces.