Dead Secret

by Peter Kozmar

  Andy stood and removed his backpack from the overhead storage bin. He was the only person moving around the cabin. Several passengers and the four crew members watched him in silence. Andy stopped moving when two well-built men approached and faced him. They produced their hand guns: “Sky Marshalls. Stand Still! Stand Still!” the one dressed in a red-checked shirt barked.

  Andy froze.

  “Hands up or we’ll shoot!” the other, with a bushy moustache, shouted.

  “You heard the pilot, he said stay in your seat!” Red shouted.

  “Would you like me to raise my hands, stand still or sit?” Andy asked calmly, aware that his heart rate had just stepped up a notch.

  The two Sky Marshalls glanced at each other before Red took command. “Put the bag down and put your hands up!” he shouted in a slow Texan drawl.

  Andy followed the instructions, attracting more attention from his fellow passengers, some had started filming him on their cell phones. The cabin door to the air bridge opened and in poured several transit cops, two guys in suits and a self-important airport official, who kept talking on his handheld radio. The Sky Marshalls holstered their weapons when the group arrived.

  “Are you Andrew Flint?” asked one of the cops, who had a thick New Jersey accent.

  “That’s him!” the closest of the cabin crew stated, pointing at Andy.

  “Some welcome home!” Andy said as he waited for them to tell him what to do next.

  “Mr. Flint, these gentlemen are from the British Consulate,” the transit cop pointed to the suits, “an Interpol Red Notice has been issued for your arrest. You are wanted by the British Government in connection with a murder in New Zealand and another at Heathrow Airport in London.”

  A quiet murmur developed amongst the Business Class passengers. Those closest to him looked distressed at having shared their space for the last few hours with a murderer.

  One of the suits pushed forward and addressed Andy in an upper-class English accent, “You are being taken into custody while this aircraft is turned around. When the aircraft is ready you’ll be back on board and returned to the UK.”

  “Now, don’t make no trouble. Hands behind your back,” the cop demanded.

  Andy lowered his hands and placed them behind his back. He watched as another transit cop removed the handcuffs from their utility belt and snapped the handcuffs tightly on his wrists.

  “Remember to bring my backpack,” Andy called out as they led him from the aircraft.

  At the front of the group, the airport official continued to provide a running commentary and issued instructions to their army of helpers over their radio. Once inside the main terminal building Andy saw two bemused men wearing suits and sporting UN identity cards on light-blue lanyards. One of them held a card by his side which read ‘Andrew Flint’.

  “Andrew Flint?” one of the UN men called out as the group approached.

  “Yes, don’t worry, I’ll be back, just a minor misunderstanding,” Andy replied as the transit cops cleared them out of the way and continued to pull Andy forward without a pause.

  “He won’t be seeing daylight for a long time,” the cop who slapped the cuffs on shouted to the UN officials.

  They continued to pull Andy by the arms to make him walk at an unusually brisk pace. His leg was protesting at each step and he struggled to keep moving.

  One of the Brits moved close to Andy and whispered, “You’re going down sunshine. For a long, long time.”

  CHAPTER 41

  Arriving at a junction with the main terminal building they turned right to head deeper into the building when the group came to an abrupt halt. Blocking their path were armed officers wearing dark-blue jackets, baseball caps and badges marked: ‘Homeland Security’.

  “Get out of our way. We have a wanted man with a Red Notice against him and he’s being deported back to the UK today,” one of the Brits shouted to the group of officers. The senior officer for the Port Authority Police pushed his way to the front so he could eyeball the Homeland Security detail.

  “What’s going on here?” the Police Captain asked, “Who’s in charge?”

  A slim woman in her early thirties stepped forward. Blond hair showed from under her blue cap. “I’m the senior officer,” she stated calmly, “Agent Angela Blair. All I can tell you is that I’m with Homeland Security. This man must be debriefed by the Security Services on a matter of National Security. He’s come across highly sensitive material which we need to know about. Did he have any luggage with him?”

  “Yeah, this backpack,” a cop called out, holding up Andy’s backpack above the crowd. The Captain turned to face the junior police officer, his face bright red and furious.

  “After we’ve debriefed him, we’ll cut him loose,” Blair said to the Captain.

  “You know you’re creating a diplomatic incident?” the Brit protested.

  “So, sue me!” Blair replied sarcastically.

  The two UN officials watched with amusement from the periphery of the melee. What had started for them as a simple, meet and greet, at the airport had quickly turned into a multi-agency turf war.

  Blair threw the Captain a bone, “Captain, I’ll give him back to you when we’re done.”

  “Okay, take the bracelets off and hand him and his bag over,” the Captain instructed. The transit cop removed the handcuffs and two Homeland Security officers stepped forward, grabbed Andy’s arms and led him a few steps away as they took possession of him. Another Homeland Security officer took Andy’s backpack and held it up like it was a prized trophy.

  “Thank you Captain,” Blair said, then turning to her team, “Okay, let’s get out of here,”

  The two British Officials could barely conceal their anger at losing their prey.

  Blair led her team and Andy to a side door marked ‘No Entry – Authorized Personnel Only’. The accompanying airport official used her access card to unlock the door. It opened onto a set of metal steps leading down to the tarmac outside the terminal. The official led the group down the steps to their waiting dark SUVs with their flashing strobe lights.

  Andy shivered but he felt mentally sharper in the cool night air. The two officers released his arms, so he could steady himself as he slowly made his way down the steps. At the bottom they grabbed his arms again and pushed him towards the second of the four waiting vehicles. Andy was helped into rear of the SUV where he sat, crushed between two supersized agents.

  He looked out of the smoked glass and watched Blair with her team. She continued to issue orders which Andy could hear through the glass. They pulled away and started to accelerate when the convoy ground to a sudden halt. Andy peered between the front seats and saw two NYPD black-and-whites blocking their path. Andy turned and looked behind to see two more black-and-whites had boxed them in. Four SUVs with flashing red-and-blue strobes pulled up parallel to them, the SUV’s were followed by a NYPD SWAT vehicle.

  “We’ve got company,” Andy said to his two minders who looked at each other. Andy watched Blair get out of the front SUV and approach one of the blocking black-and-whites. Police officers, SWAT and muscle-bound men and women in suits ran into position and surrounded the Homeland Security convoy. Their weapons hadn’t been drawn, yet. Blair appeared to be having an intense conversation with one of the NYPD cops.

  A few seconds later they were joined by a muscle-bound suit sporting a crew cut. After a few minutes, one of Andy’s minders touched his earpiece and pushed it deeper to help him hear his instructions. The minder opened his door and climbed out. “Get out! Come with me!” he barked at Andy.

  Andy climbed out of the SUV and followed his minder towards Blair who gesticulated wildly at Andy and then the black-and-whites. The situation which had unexpectedly developed clearly annoyed Blair. As they approached Blair, Andy could hear she was arguing with Crew Cut. “I don’t care what you say. The CIA is the lead agency on this and I have the authority to take Flint back with me for debriefing. This isn’t a matter for th
e Secret Service.”

  “Ma’am. I’m here following my orders direct from the White House,” Crew Cut replied.

  “This man has been involved in serious crimes committed overseas. He may have gained vital intelligence which is time-critical and we need to thoroughly debrief him.”

  “Are you going against the direct orders of the White House and the Executive Offices of the United States Government?” Crew Cut asked. Before Blair could reply another SUV with darkened glass pulled to a halt. Two suits jumped out, one held the rear door open as a middle-aged man stepped out. From his build Andy could see this guy didn’t work out. He vaguely recognized him, but couldn’t quite place where.

  “Mr. Attorney General, I’m honored,” Blair said to the new arrival. Now Andy remembered: the man now standing in front of him was Mike Davies, the Attorney General.

  “You’re with the CIA?” Davies asked Blair.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Either release this man into the custody of the Secret Service or find yourself relieved of your post with immediate effect,” Davies pointed to Andy, “Release or not to release. Your choice.”

  Blair didn’t need to think this through as she turned to Andy’s super-sized minder. “Stand down, he’s no longer ours,” she ordered.

  The minder released Andy and returned to his SUV. Davies leaned close to Blair so he couldn’t be overheard, “You made the right call. I’ll make sure this isn’t forgotten. I’ll give good feedback about you to the Director.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she said, but behind her smile, Andy knew Blair would be seething. She also knew her Director and his Deputies would be furious at the loss of the asset.

  “I’d like my backpack, please,” Andy asked politely, and a few seconds later the backpack was in his hand again.

  “Okay, Mr. Flint, walk with me to my car,” Davies said, it wasn’t an order, but Andy knew better than to disobey. He just wanted sit down for more than a few minutes with someone to look at the stab wound, he wasn’t enjoying being part of a battle royal over jurisdiction. Andy walked with the Davies to his SUV. As they reached it Davies turned to face Andy, “There’s been a heck-load of effort looking for something down in little old New Zealand!” Davies held Andy’s upper arm. “You were there, did you come across anything I might need to know about?” he asked.

  “Yes. I have it with me and I’ll show you, but can we get out of the cold first?”

  Davies smiled and released Andy’s arm so he could get into the SUV. As soon as the both of them were in, the SUV pulled away and headed across the airport to the Executive Terminal. A Government Boeing 737 waited, it’s strobes flashed brightly in the darkness, it’s engines already turning. Ready for a quick get-away.

  Andy and Davies made their way up the metal stairs and into the aircraft. They turned right and took to their large cream-colored leather swivel chairs. Andy smiled, pleased he had comfort rather than a squalid holding cell. The Secret Service Agents ran up the stairs and into the aircraft. Crew Cut, as the last Agent aboard, pulled the cabin door closed and took his seat behind Davies.

  An Air Force valet approached from the rear of the aircraft. He faced Davies, stood at attention and saluted. “Sir, the aircraft and crew are ready to depart and waiting your instructions.”

  “Thank you. Leave immediately for Washington. Make sure we have transport to the White House.”

  “Yes, sir,” the valet replied, saluted and headed towards the cockpit. A few moments later the jet moved quickly across the airport tarmac and onto the main runway. Once on the runway and lined up with the center line, the noise from the two LEAP turbofans increased as the Captain pulled hard back on the throttles. Andy was gently pushed back into his seat as the aircraft rapidly accelerated down the runway then, once airborne, the jet climbed quickly to altitude as Andy heard the sound of the landing gear retract.

  Andy looked out of the window. New York had moved away into the distance, it sparkled brightly as if it were a jewel encrusted with diamonds.

  CHAPTER 42

  Andy enjoyed being driven through the streets of Washington DC at high speed in a VIP convoy complete with a Secret Service detail. The flashing strobe lights coupled with wailing and whooping sirens warned other road users of their approach.

  He watched in awe as police outriders threaded their way through the vehicles and stopped traffic at intersections to allow the convoy to move unimpeded. Andy was impressed by the fluidity of the well-practiced drill the riders followed as they continuously leap-frogged the convoy without any loss of pace.

  The convoy slowed, but didn’t stop, as it entered the grounds of the White House. Memories from Andy’s younger days flooded back as he recalled the one and only time he’d been there. He felt the same excitement as when he’d met Obama. Tonight he felt awe again at the thought of entering the iconic building.

  As their vehicle pulled to a halt under the white stone entrance, their door was opened to reveal more Secret Service agents. Davies and Andy stepped out and headed towards the entrance door held open by a Marine in dress uniform. Davies entered the White House in front of Andy and straight through the Secret Service security check point.

  Andy on the other hand was stopped and told to surrender his backpack for x-ray, which he did without question. Next, they told him to empty his pockets and go through the usual security drill he knew all too well. Once clear of the screening, one of the guards returned his backpack with one hand and handed him a large visitor badge, on a bright red lanyard, with the other.

  “Come on! Don’t keep everyone waiting!” Davies snapped at Andy.

  Andy caught up with him and after a few more paces they entered the situation room where several people he recognized, but couldn’t put names to, were sat obviously waiting for his arrival. Davies took his seat at the large conference table. At one end of the room was a large flat screen display. At the edge of the table nearest the screen sat a lap top computer. Davies pointed towards the computer, “That’s for you if you need.”

  Andy edged towards the laptop and flat screen, thankful he could choose the pace he moved, aware that his leg was protesting at the smallest movement.

  “We’re just waiting for one more,” one of the suits round the table said.

  Andy plugged Mark’s memory stick into the laptop and used the file manager to select the video. The last person to arrive walked in, Andy immediately recognized him: the Vice-President.

  “Okay, let’s do a quick round the table so you know who you’re talking to,” Davies said to Andy, he didn’t wait for a reply as he continued, “you probably recognize the VP. We also have the President’s Chief of Staff, the National Security Adviser, the President’s Press Spokesman and President’s personal legal counsel. This is Andrew Flint who used to be with the Central Intelligence Agency. He’s an independent contractor and last year helped the CIA out with the Lightfoot business over in Russia.”

  There were nods of acknowledgement from around the table.

  “All yours, Mr. Flint,” Davies said handing the floor to Andy with a wave of his hand.

  The VP interrupted, “Before you start, is the recording real or fake?”

  “Mr. Vice-President, the recording is a fake.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m one hundred per cent sure it’s fake. I’ve had the video verified by experts in digital media.”

  “Experts you say?” the VP replied skeptically.

  “Yes. I had it reviewed on a frame by frame basis by an Oscar winning studio. I’ve got confidence in them as they are world leaders in digital imaging technology. With their help we identified several key discrepancies. To be certain, we even reviewed footage of the President from around the time this video was shot and compared them.

  “For example, the teeth are different. Also, the guy on the video is heavier by at least ten kilograms. The film had post-production manipulation as they must have forgotten that the President wears a wedding ring when they mad
e the film, so added it later. The guy we are about to see in the film has had plastic surgery to his face and I’m pretty sure the President hasn’t had any enhancement. We also undertook voice analysis and the man you are about to see does not have the same voice profile as the President.”

  “Okay, hit play.” the VP instructed.

  The video played on the large screen. The audio was particularly embarrassing to listen to as the two women on the video sounded bored and not at all convinced in the flattery they lavished on the naked fat man they were with. Their acting skills were questionable especially with the loud sounds of ecstasy they made while he appeared to pleasure them. Andy didn’t look at the screen. Most of the people in the situation room appeared mesmerized by the spectacle in front of them. When the video finished the Chief of Staff broke the embarrassed silence.

  “You sure that isn’t POTUS?”

  “One hundred per cent sure,” Andy replied emphatically.

  “Who’s the actor?” the Chief of Staff asked as he pointed at the screen.

  “We’re certain it’s Carl Walker from Boston.”

  “Okay, let’s go pick up the son-of-a-bitch and find out what he has to say for himself,” the VP said.

  “We can’t, he’s dead. Apparent suicide. I’m not convinced. I think he was a loose end that needed to be silenced.”

  “Who created this?” the VP asked as he pointed at the blank screen.

  Andy shrugged and shook his head, “I don’t know.”

  “That’s not good enough Flint!” the Chief of Staff scoffed.

  Andy turned to face the Chief of Staff, he lowered his voice and spoke slowly. “The United Nations and the New Zealand Government asked me to find who had attacked a UN intelligence station. As part of my investigation, I came across this,” he pointed to the screen and continued, “I could have leaked it to the media. I could have handed it over to the UN. But instead, I investigated whether it was real or not. I even found the actor who played POTUS in the video and now I’m here briefing you.”