by Alex Howell
Although nothing incriminating had yet been said, Clara Walker’s heart sank with anxiety at the realization that her father seemed to have a familiar relationship with Mahmoud Adjani that went far beyond workout techniques. He was somehow involved with his life. She then continued to listen as Mahmoud responded to her father’s concern with, “I can’t help it Mason—they are my family. I can’t just cut them off.”
Followed by hearing her father remark, “I know—I know. But you realize soon your going to have the feds on your trail…”
Clara was getting more and more concerned, as she realized that her father seemed to be on the verge of advising a former terrorist on how to avoid federal agents. Federal agents such as herself no less.
But just as she was about to lose all hope in her father, she heard him advise the trainer, “Alright, just be sure to check in with your probation officer. You’ve been doing good so far, but you don’t want to slip up and go back to your old life, that’s for sure.”
She squinted her eyes and saw what appeared to be a big grin break across Mahmoud’s face as he gushed, “Thank you so much, Mr. Walker. I don’t know where I would be without you. You keep me on the straight and narrow, that’s for sure.”
Mahmoud then added with sincerity, “Don’t worry, I’m a good guy now brother—and I’m not going to let you down.”
Clara breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this, she couldn’t hear a more straightforward and simplistic portrayal of an altruistic relationship. Her dad was coaching the ex-con into bettering his life and staying out of trouble, not partnering with him to stir it up.
Clara then heard her dad tell the man, “Wow, I have a real hankering for some liquified cucumber. Come on Mahmoud, let’s get something to drink at the juice bar.”
Seeing that her dad was getting up to walk her way, Clara got off the exercise bike she was on and knelt down at the controls at the bottom of the equipment pretending to be adjusting it. She was in this pose huddled down with her face unobservable when she heard her father and the trainer passing on by.
Then when they were a safe distance toward the exit, Clara got up and discreetly followed, hoodie and dark sunglasses in place. She kept a safe distance as he exited, and watched as he said a few parting words with Mahmoud and got into his car. As she saw the car leave, she then sprinted back to her car and got in.
Immediately calling up Danae, she was happy to inform her, “Danae! It’s a false alarm! My dad—um... I mean the subject’s relationship with Mr. Adjani is completely benign!”
Danae sounding almost disappointed, responded, “Really?”
Clara nodded, “Yes! He is serving as a kind of mentor to help him get back on track if anything else.”
Danae paused before asking, “You are sure?”
Clara nodded, “Yes, I am! I have recorded audio to prove it.”
Danae instructed, “Alright Clara, bring it in. I’ll meet you at the agency later on.”
Clara then closed out her call and commanded the AI that resided in her car to start up and drive her out of there. But upon leaving there was a small problem. As soon as her car reached the exit and began to turn onto the street, she saw her father inexplicably heading right in her direction.
Shit! He must have forgotten something! Clara’s mind screamed.
She then looked at the controls on her self-driving car and shouted, “AI turn this car around and go the other way!”
But the cantankerous AI shot back, “Due to heavy road construction, the current course is the most optimal route”.
She cursed, “Damn it! I don’t know how to stop it!”
If she was driving an old fashioned manual car she could have simply turned herself right around and avoided Mason, but as it was, self-driving vehicles were not able to understand all the complicated nuances of human behavior and why one would wish to turn their face suddenly for no apparent reason—road construction or not.
Helpless in the face of her AI chauffer, Clara then desperately fumbled with the controls, trying to toggle the window tint. Most new cars had the ability to brighten and darken the windows on command. But still unfamiliar with the new car, Clara was unable to find the right prompt.
In absolute panic, all Clara could do was look down and avert her gaze as she passed out of the parking lot right by her father. She managed to look up just in time however to see her father looking right at her—with surprise written all over his face.
A FEW HOURS LATER AT MASON’S HOME IN BALTIMORE
Finding it exceedingly difficult to face her father after he spotted her at the gym, Clara didn’t end up going home immediately. After convincing her car’s AI to take her to the city park instead, she had spent the better part of an hour jogging and generally trying to relieve the stress that she felt in the knowledge that she had so thoroughly blown her cover and compromised her mission.
It wasn’t until a few hours later that she arrived back at her father’s residence. After parking and walking up the driveway, she popped her key into the door hoping that she wouldn’t be noticed. She had no such luck. As soon as she opened the door, she found her father Mason sitting on the living room couch looking right back up at her.
“Clara...” he asked. “Where have you been?”
Feeling like a teenager caught hanging out too late, Clara found herself sputtering, “What? What do you mean—where have I been?”
Mason then let her have it, “Look Clara, you don’t have to play games with me. I’ve been around the block for a while and I know when I’m being followed.”
Mason took a breath before responding, “And you were following me at the gym… Why?”
Clara realizing that she can’t keep her activities secret from her father any longer, went against the CIA’s protocol and finally admitted, “Yes... I was following you.”
Mason stared at her expecting a more detailed explanation, but when one was not forthcoming, he demanded, “Clara I’m your father, you can tell me… whatever it is, I can help you with it. So… why were you following me?”
It was then that she blurted out, “You are being monitored for suspected terrorist activity.”
Whatever Mason was expecting to hear—this most certainly was not it, as indicated by his shocked exclamation of, “Oh shit…!”
Clara feeling like she had just dropped the emotional equivalent of a nuclear bomb on top of her father’s head then sat down next to him and explained, “Its apparently been in the works for a while… but due to all your close dealings with terror suspects….and even due to your relations with Tessa Rogers….”
This caused Mason to erupt, “Tessa! But she was cleared! She gave her life for this country!”
Clara nodded, “I know…. I know…. But unfortunately, there are some at the agency that just don’t see it that way.”
Mason hissed, “They don’t see it that way? Then how do they see it?
Clara not wanting to get into with her father over an issue that still festered in his mind like an open wound, chanced the subject as she shrugged, “Anyway…. I consider it a lucky break that I was given the job of snooping around on you, rather than someone else that would be a little less than understanding.”
Absolutely dumbfounded by what he was hearing, Mason grunted, “Huh! Ok great…you’ve been snooping around. So, what did you find out about me?”
Clara sighed, “That you like to train and that you have been helping a former bad guy go good.”
Mason then leveled with her, “Look Clara, I realize that you are just trying to do your job here. And although its startling to think that an investigation is being conducted on my activities, I’ve been around enough to know that these sorts of things happen all the time. Many are being investigated and they don’t even know it. So it really doesn’t surprise me that much. They can investigate me all day long, I don’t care. I haven’t done anything wrong so I don’t have anything to worry about.
Mason then took a breath before he added, �
��Having that said, don’t expect any interference from me.”
Realizing how much her father loved her and was willing to help her career, even at his own expense, Clara was immensely humbled and grateful.
Giving her dad a big hug, she proclaimed, “I love you dad.”
Holding his daughter tight Mason reciprocated, “I love you too baby—I love you too.”
13
Making a Name and Clearing a Name
THE FOLLOWING MORNING IN THE PARKING GARAGE, CIA HEADQUARTERS.
Danae Robinson was walking rather quickly with her laptop case slung over her back. Looking around warily in the shadows she seemed like a woman who was either overly concerned of encroaching strangers, or someone who had something to hide. Considering how secure the CIA facility was, the off chance that Danae was worried about encountering a mugger was very low. Yet she kept looking from side to side as she reached her car.
It was only after she had opened the door and stepped inside that she breathed a sigh of relief. She then reached for her phone and after scrolling through her contacts dialed up a number. After a moment she greeted someone on the other line with, “Hello—I have everything you need. I’m going to send it over to you now.”
But whatever it was she was gong to send was interrupted by a loud knocking on her driver’s side window. Dropping the phone on the floor, Danae nearly jumped out of her skin. She then looked up to see the barrel of a gun pointed right at her. Dressed in a dark suit, the gunman demanded, “Get out of the car! Now!”
Danae was shaken, but she knew full well what was happening. The results of her labors over the past few weeks had been found out. As was confirmed upon stepping out of the vehicle.
She was confronted by another man, this one dressed in a sharp, navy-blue blazer. He flashed a badge in front of her face that indicated he worked for the NSA. Not exactly a popular quantity at CIA headquarters, but given the circumstances, they had more than enough jurisdiction.
Even though she knew full well why she was being accosted, Dane tried to feign ignorance as she cried out, “Why are you stopping me? What do you want?”
Not even reading her any Miranda rights, navy blue blazer man showed that they weren’t messing around. He grabbed Danae’s wrists, roughly jerked her hands behind her back, and slapped cuffs on her.
He then rather belatedly informed her, “Dane Robinson you are under arrest for divulging sensitive state secrets to a foreign power!”
A FEW HOURS LATER IN THE CIA ARCHIVE ROOM
Clara Walker sat in the archive room of the agency eager to clear her father’s name. Here she trolled through all of her dad’s known records and accomplishments. After gathering a mountain of data for her flash drive, she marched on over to the field director’s office to debrief him on what she found out.
Arriving at his door, she knocked to find Field Director Sikes was ready and waiting as he instructed her, “Come on in Clara.”
Clara then sat down in front of the field director and handed him the flash drive. He promptly popped it in and began scrolling through the files on a large monitor at his desk, turned so they could both see it. She then began her debriefing by informing him, “I have been following the subject over the past few days…”
Field Director Sikes staring at her through his thick glasses, flatly inquired, “And what did you find out?”
Clara took a breath, “Mostly nothing….”
Which prompted Sikes to sneer, “Mostly nothing? Clara—you are not on the CIA payroll to find mostly nothing.”
Clara regretting her choice of words, cleared her throat and attempted to maintain her composure as she informed the field director, “No—no. That’s not what I mean. I mean that after following the subject I haven’t found anything to merit any further investigation. His day to day activities seem as benign—even as mundane as they can possibly be.”
To this Sikes raised a skeptical eyebrow as he inquired, “Really?”
The director then scrolled through the files until he came to a picture of Mahmoud Adjani. Pointing at his headshot, he asked, “And what about this convicted terrorist he has been consorting with? Is this just another benign aspect of the subject’s daily routine?”
Clara most certainly knew that this curve ball was coming, but it threw her off all the same. She gave herself a moment and paused, before looking up at the field director and informing him, “That former terrorist is just a family man and a personal fitness trainer. Nothing in the subject’s interactions with him suggests anything at all untoward.”
Clara then paused before adding, “If anything my father is trying to mentor him in order to keep him on the right track and out of trouble”
This was the only point in which Clara messed up and she regretted it the second that the words came out of her mouth. She should not be calling the subject her father. This would only serve to raise the specter of unprofessional and biased conduct on her part.
And the director for one, was sure to take advantage of it. As he demonstrated when he admonished her with, “Well, your father may be a good guy to you Clara, but that doesn’t change the fact that we have an ongoing investigation on him.”
The Field Director then bid Clara Walker farewell as he told her, “Whatever you do—stay objective.”
Clara feeling more and more dejected by the moment went back to the archive room where she found a young man working in the records booth where she was just moments ago. Not sure what else to do, she cleared her throat to get his attention. The man looked up as if halfway startled at the intrusion.
Seeing Clara standing there however, he was soon all smiles as he asked, “Is there something I can help you with miss?”
Clara informed him, “Hello, I’m a new recruit and I have been assigned to follow a target. I was using this booth earlier to glean through some sensitive information.”
Rather than immediately obliging, the young man introduced himself instead, extending a hand and telling her, “I’m Jason Holmes—nice to meet you.”
To which Clara readily responded, “Clara Walker, the feeling’s mutual.”
Instead of getting up from the station so she could work, Jason surprised her by scooting over and asking her to sit next to him. He beckoned her, “Come on, let me help you with this one—two heads are better than one anyway.”
Clara had just met this man, but she was impressed by his affable nature. He soon no longer seemed like a stranger. Indeed, it seemed like they were somehow already close friends in just the first few moments of their encounter.
Nevertheless, Clara wished to play it cool and keep her distance. Even his aid she initially tried to reject, telling him, “That’s alright I already have a partner assigned to the case.”
It was to this that the man knowingly responded, “Danae Robinson, right?”
Clara tensed up at the mention, “Yes…”
Jason shook his head, “Oh… well I’ve got some bad news about her, it turns out she was a double agent.”
Clara practically shrieked, “What?! I just talked to her yesterday.”
Jason nodded, “Yep, this is a bit of late breaking news but she was arrested just this morning. All the agency is now talking about it.”
Clara hissed, “Are you sure?”
To which Jason insisted, “Yes Clara, it turns out that she was quite busy funneling state secrets to her home country of Greece.”
Clara realizing the implications knew that Danae was no doubt facing some serious prison time. Clara gasped at the thought, “Oh my God… this is insane…”
To which Jason shook his head, “No—not really. You might be surprised how often people flip in the intelligence business. It happens all the time.”
Nevertheless, Clara knew that the discovery of such a breach would no doubt put the CIA on high alert to any other potential leakers. And even a former Navy SEAL like her father, if found cavorting with terrorists, would be in serious trouble.
Noting the concern on h
er face, Jason informed Clara, “Look I’ve been here for 2 years now and I know a little something about how the system works.”
Jason smiling at her with his easy-going affable smile extolled her, “I’d like to help.” After thinking about it a moment, Clara realizing that she could use all the help she could get in order to clear her dad’s name. She agreed, “Okay….”
MEANWHILE, IN A CIA INTERROGATION ROOM
Danae Robinson knew that she had messed up big. She had everything in the world going for her, yet she had that one itch that she just couldn’t resist scratching and now she was suffering the consequences of her action. She was sitting in a holding cell in a basement interrogation room of the CIA.
It was like something out of a horror movie. As bleak as her surroundings were, she kept telling herself ‘Okay, this is America—they have to have due process, they can’t just torture people.’ But as these thoughts were punctuated by the sudden shouts and screams of someone in the holding cell next to her, she began to have her doubts. She then braced herself as the door to her cell opened.
In the darkness a man emerged, dressed in a nice two-piece suit. The man sat down in a chair right in front of Danae. Under the lone light bulb that dangled from the ceiling she could see his features better. He was a man who appeared to be in his mid-40’s, with red hair, cropped short into a buzz cut, framing his angular face.
His piercing green eyes looked out at her from under the harsh artificial light, as he spoke, “Danae Robinson, you have been accused of leaking classified data to foreign nationals. These are some pretty serious charges; do you understand that?”
Danae nodded, “Yes—yes, I do.”
The man then paused and looked down at the clipboard he held as if he were in deep thought. Still staring down at the paperwork in front of him, he remarked, “All I have to do is sign a few pieces of paper and you will be locked away in a maximum-security facility for a very long time.”
