The Secret Target

by Dean Atwood

  Blaire turned around and smiled as she approached Warren. “What can I do for you, sir?” she said.

  “I want to confirm that you have everything you need to install the special additional equipment we previously talked about. You know what I’m referring to, right?”

  “Yes, you mean the devices that will allow frequency weapons to be activated within the CEO’s house for mind control.”

  “Quite right. The silent weapon. The tone in your voice has a hint of disapproval or am I imagining it?”

  “You’re very perceptive. Don’t misunderstand. I’ll do my job, but it does concern me that we would consider using such an extreme measure on a US citizen on domestic soil.”

  “This is an unusual circumstance. Upshaw Corporation is a major supplier for our laser weaponry systems. We have suspicions that someone at a high level in their organization, possibly Anne Upshaw herself, is passing trade secrets to the Chinese and potentially incorporating bugs into the software that would make our laser weapons inoperable or turn them against us.”

  “I understand that, but it seems to me the traditional electronic surveillance devices will be sufficient to determine the guilty person and bring them to justice. Why do we need to use electromagnetic remote mind control devices on the CEO? She could very well be innocent.”

  “The non-lethal frequency weapon is a last resort. We want it installed in case we need it, but hopefully traditional surveillance will give us the desired results, as you say.”

  “I’ll install the device as planned and let you know when it’s done.”

  “Excellent. And, let’s keep this between the two of us. No need to involve the other task force members. The less people who are aware of it, the better.”

  “OK.”

  “That brings me to the other topic I want to discuss with you.”

  “Jeremy Glover?”

  “Precisely. I know it’s asking a lot of you to spy on your fellow team member, but as I told you a couple of weeks ago, we have it on good authority that Agent Glover has been receiving monetary payoffs that are being deposited into an offshore account. We at the DIA haven’t shared this with the FBI yet because we don’t know the source of the funds or how deep the conspiracy goes within the FBI.”

  “You’ve already explained this to me when I was assigned to Project Typhon.”

  “Yes, I did. I just want to make sure you understand the severity of the situation.”

  “I do.”

  “From what I observed today, he seems infatuated with you.”

  “Didn’t you tell me to use whatever means were available to me to gain his trust?”

  Warren looked away as if he were avoiding eye contact because he was embarrassed by what he was asking her to do. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable doing.”

  “I’m already uncomfortable with it. I’ve never done anything like this before. I didn’t realize when I took this assignment I’d be asked to spy on a coworker. How far do you expect me to go with this charade?”

  Warren resumed eye contact. “You’re a grown woman. I’ll leave it to your discretion. I don’t care about the details, I care about the results. What have you discovered about him, so far?”

  “He’s very egotistical. He thinks he’s God’s gift to women. From what I’ve seen, he likes spending more money than he makes as an FBI Agent. He showed me pictures of two luxurious homes that he says he owns.”

  “Our investigation didn’t uncover anything about property acquisitions. Maybe the homes he showed you aren’t in his name. Try to find out the addresses.”

  “OK.”

  “Has he made any comments that would make you believe his loyalties aren’t with the FBI?”

  “He hasn’t said anything derogatory about the agency, but he did say he wasn’t planning to spend the next twenty-five years as a lowly FBI agent. He asked if I had a chance to make a million dollars, would I leave the NSA and move into his beach house with him. When I said I was happy with my current job and boyfriend, he made it sound like his offer was just a joke. But, I’m not sure he was kidding. Maybe I’m off base, but I think he was testing me to see whether I could be recruited for something. Of course, he could’ve just been giving me a line to try to get into my pants.”

  “Any indication he has prior connections to Upshaw Corporation?”

  “Nothing that he mentioned. But, there was one incident that was odd.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “When we were posing as maintenance personnel, trying to enter CEO Upshaw’s estate, one of the bodyguards took Jeremy aside and talked with him. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they looked like they were carrying on a conversation like old friends. Jeremy told me afterward that the guard thought he’d seen him before.”

  “Is it possible he’s on the Upshaw payroll and knows the guard from previous visits to see Anne Upshaw?”

  “It’s possible. Jeremy told me that he convinced the guard that he was on the original security system installation crew and that’s where he must have seen him.”

  “Do you think he was telling the truth?”

  “I can’t say for sure. Prior to our surveillance of the CEO’s home, he did his part to get us inside the VPs’ homes to install their electronic devices.”

  “Be sure to contact me as soon as possible if you come up with irrefutable evidence that he’s in collusion with someone from Upshaw Corporation.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to remove him from the task force, right now instead of waiting? It sounds like you already have evidence of bribery. Letting him continue could jeopardize the entire project as well as put my life in danger.”

  “If we remove him without something more conclusive, he could contact Upshaw, interfere with our plans, and then disappear. We don’t have enough evidence to arrest him. He’s not like an ordinary citizen, who can be detained indefinitely under the pretense of being a national security risk. The FBI would fight it. At least the way it is, you can keep an eye on him.”

  “Keep an eye on him?”

  “You might have to become more … intimate with him to get him to open up to you. I mean on a personal level, not necessarily on a physical level.”

  “I know what you mean. Is that it for today?”

  “That’s it.”

  Blaire walked away with a concerned look on her face. Project Typhon was her first assignment working as part of NSA’s Special Collection Services (SCS), whose mission was to physically insert eavesdropping and other electronic devices into difficult to reach places. Their methods included breaking and entering. The transition from an inside analyst sitting at a computer in an office to an SCS operative was hard enough without the added burden of spying on an FBI Agent, which she was certain wasn’t in her official job description.

  Chapter 4

  J eremy walked into the DIA office area. An attractive, female analyst looked up from her PC screen and smiled at him.

  He returned the smile and said, “Hi Renee. What are you up to today? Are you spying on your friends or keeping America safe?”

  “I’m checking your internet activity and social network posts to find out whether you’ve been watching porn or soliciting women on-line.”

  “Oh yeah? What did you find?”

  “I’m still working on it.”

  “I don’t need to go on-line for hook-ups when there are beautiful women like you available live and in person.”

  “Who said I’m available?”

  “All women are available, if you catch them at the right time.”

  “Oh, really. And, how do you know when the right time is at hand.”

  “A man knows. For example, I know you’re not quite ready — but you will be soon.”

  “Is that right. Well, don’t hold your breath. I’m already spoken for. Besides, I’m not into the narcissistic type like you,” she said, but the way she was looking at him said otherwise.

  Jeremy glanced at the enclos
ed offices along the wall and asked, “Is Agent Sanderson out of the office this week? I heard somebody say he’s on vacation.”

  “Yes, he won’t be back until a week from Friday.”

  “I have a few private calls I need to make, so I’m going to use his office.”

  Renee shrugged. “It’s not up to me. You can call your girlfriends from his office if you want to. I won’t say anything.”

  “I wasn’t asking permission. I wanted to make sure it was available.”

  “You mean available like you think I’m available?”

  “Exactly. You keep percolating. I’ll check in a day or two to see whether you’re ready or not.”

  “You do that, but don’t get your hopes up. I’m not easy.”

  “Yes, you are. You just don’t know it yet.”

  “Get out of here and go make your private calls,” Renee said and smiled a flirtatious smile.

  Jeremy walked over to Sanderson’s office. The door was open, and the light was switched on. He assumed it was unlocked each morning by an administrative assistant, in case an associate needed access while Sanderson was out of the office. He closed the door, sat down at the desk, and made the call from his mobile phone.

  “Can you talk now?” Jeremy said as soon as the man on the other end picked up.

  “That depends on where you’re calling from?”

  “I’m at the JUIAF.”

  “Are you crazy calling me from there?”

  “Relax, I’m using my mobile phone. It’s secure.”

  “I warned you that the NSA was hacking into your email account. Are you sure you deleted everything incriminating?”

  “Of course. I’m not stupid.”

  “They’re going through all of your communications with a fine-toothed comb. You’ve been sloppy. I’m concerned our interactions have been captured.”

  “You worry too much.”

  “You don’t take this seriously enough. I have it from a reliable source that a government agency is checking into your offshore account, and I don’t want them to find out I’ve been depositing money into it.”

  “Relax. The account is protected by local law. The US government can’t force the bank to reveal any information about my account, including where deposits where initiated.”

  “Well, I don’t like it. I think it’s time to close our arrangement.”

  “I hope you’re not saying the payments are going to stop. You need somebody like me on the inside to alert you about anything the task force discovers.”

  “It would be better for both of us if we disconnect.”

  “You still need more satellite information from the National Reconnaissance Office. I’m recruiting another NSA Analyst, a woman by the name of Blaire Saunders. She’ll be able to pick up where Amanda left off. If necessary, she’ll be able to plant evidence to implicate somebody else and make you appear innocent.”

  “This whole situation has gotten too messy. You told me you had Amanda under control and then we had to take her out when she threatened to expose you.”

  “If her body is ever found, everyone will believe she was killed in an unfortunate accident.”

  “The people I’m dealing with don’t play games. You’ve already made too many missteps.”

  “Lighten up, everything’s under control. Remember, I know your dirty little secrets, so don’t screw with me or stop my cashflow.”

  The man on the other line hung up. Jeremy held his phone away from his ear like he was trying to make a case that it was a technical problem with the mobile network rather than the man on the other line dismissing him by hanging up.

  “He doesn’t know who he’s dealing with,” he said to himself.

  ***

  At noon, Jeremy was waiting at the door leading outside to the parking lot, as he said he would be. “You look concerned,” he said as Blaire approached him. “What’d the old man want.”

  “It was nothing. You know Special Agent Warren. He wanted to make sure I have everything I need to get the job done.”

  “Did he ask about me?”

  “No, he didn’t ask about you, why would he? God, you’re so full of yourself.”

  “I thought he might have noticed that you and I … were more than coworkers.”

  “We are just coworkers.”

  “Is that right? Do you remember last night?” he said.

  She smiled and said, “I remember.”

  “Good, I was beginning to think I was dreaming.”

  “I’m tired,” Blaire said. “Let’s get a quick lunch and then I’m going home to get some sleep.”

  They exited the building and as they walked into the parking lot together, Jeremy put his arm around her and rested his hand on her back.

  “You could stop by my secret hideaway … for a nap. QT’s at work by now, so he won’t miss you.”

  Blaire was lost in thought about her conversation with Warren and when she didn’t respond, Jeremy added, “Did you fall asleep standing up?”

  She emerged from her thoughts, laughed, put her arm around his back, and looked up at him with one of her sexy looks. “I heard you,” she said.

  Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for national security, she thought amusingly to herself. It could be worse. Jeremy Glover wasn’t half bad to look at — and there was last night to consider.

  Chapter 5

  Q uinton sat in his car and watched the Joint Use Intelligence Analysis Facility (JUIAF) parking lot. He had the credentials to enter the complex through the front gate, but that would leave an electronic trail. Also, if he went inside, he’d be exposed by sitting in the same parking lot he was surveilling. That’s why he’d positioned himself on the road behind the facility, where he had an elevated view of the parking lot without the potential risk of exposure.

  A vehicle drove up the backroad, headed in his direction. He slouched down in his seat to avoid being seen. The entrance to a residential subdivision was on the road above him. He assumed someone who lived there was coming home for lunch. After he was satisfied the vehicle had gone out of sight, he sat up in the seat, tipped his head down, and looked up through the windshield at the sky. He didn’t see any drones, but that didn’t mean for certain there weren’t hidden cameras somewhere nearby. He knew better than most that there were fewer and fewer places a person could go without the possibility of being captured on video.

  When he saw the doors to the building open and two people walk out, he raised the high-powered scope to his eye to get a better look.

  Damn, she’s beautiful, he thought.

  The man next to Blaire appeared to be about her age, was athletically built, and had a full head of hair. Based on those three, superficial observations, Quinton surmised that women would find the guy attractive. That’s why it bothered him when the man put his arm around her and placed his hand on her back to guide her along. The guy said something to her. She must have thought it was funny because she laughed and put her arm around his lower back to lock them together, Quinton squirmed in his seat. Then she looked into the guy’s eyes in a way that Quinton thought was reserved for him alone. He could feel his stomach churn. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was feeling pangs of jealousy. But that couldn’t be it, because he wasn’t the jealous type.

  He picked up his mobile phone and touched the screen to initiate a call. He watched as Blaire removed her arm from around the man’s back and stopped to take her phone out of her pocket.

  “Hi, QT,” she said. Many of his friends referred to Quinton by his first and last initials, QT, in the same way that Michael Jordon’s friends refer to him by MJ. But, Blaire always slurred the initials together, so it sounded like she was calling him, “Cutie.”

  “Hi, BS,” he said. Quinton had started calling Blaire Saunders by her first and last initials as a joke after she called him QT, but somehow it had stuck and become the way he normally addressed her.

  “I hope your day is going better than mine,” she said.

&n
bsp; “Why, what’s wrong?”

  “I can’t go into it over the phone. I’m in a task force liaison meeting at Rivanna Station. Remember, I told you about it early this morning.”

  “I remember. Is that what you’re doing right now, liaising?”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Nothing. I called to ask you to go lunch with me. I’m in the neighborhood.”

  “Where in the neighborhood?” she said with concern in her voice.

  “I’m on route 29 on the way back from Walmart. I could pick you up on the way and we could go to Bodo’s Bagels.”

  “I’d love to, but lunch has already been delivered to the conference room.”

  “Is that where you are, in the conference room?”

  “Yes, I am … You sound funny. Is something the matter?”

  “Not a thing. I’m just disappointed you can’t join me for lunch.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

  “I’ll take you up on that … tonight?”

  “Maybe not tonight, I might be home late.”

  “Alright. I’ll see you when you get home … I love you.”

  “Me, too,” she said — but QT was having a tough time believing her.

  Chapter 6

  L ieutenant Mad muttered to herself as she walked. “I’ve got enough problems of my own,” she said. “I’m not responsible for what happens to that FBI agent and his perfect looking girlfriend.” She realized she was speaking aloud instead of thinking to herself and looked around to see whether anybody had noticed. As far as she could tell, nobody was listening to her.

  She was familiar with every nook and cranny of the downtown mall, including the location of all the private security cameras. Without even thinking, she maneuvered her route to avoid any direct views of her face. The city was close to approving the installation of thirty-six public cameras in the downtown mall to record crime activity. It had been a hot topic for the city in recent years, after a local serial killer kidnapped a UVA student at the mall and murdered her. The only thing holding up the project, was the objections of privacy advocates.