All The Big Ones Are Dead

by Christopher A. Gray

  “He’s already in a fragile emotional state! In the past forty-eight hours, he has seen his life’s work destroyed, and learned that he may be on a crime ring’s hit list! He likes that woman, and she might be just what he needs to have a calming effect, when we need him the most!”

  “I respectfully—”

  “And there is no way he would reveal the situation, to his co-workers, his friends, anybody. Logan isn’t some insecure, swaggering teenager. He’s aware of the danger, and the need for discretion.”

  “I still think any potential romantic rejection has the potential to send him over the edge, but you’re in charge. I won’t interfere in that way again.”

  Diane scowled. Agents who took it upon themselves to take action in the field could be an asset or a liability. She hoped Kwok wouldn’t be a problem in the future. She also wondered if Kwok might have been right.

  ***

  John walked quickly down the Mall strip of Central Park. The wide brick walkway, running north-south, is lined with benches on both sides, and serves as a convenient stage for buskers and artists. It is one of the few straight sections of the park; most other paths and roads are curved.

  John rarely ventured this far south. He loved it down here, but due to his busy schedule he tended to linger north of the 80s, closer to Columbia. Today, he had walked south on Central Park West all the way to Columbus Circle, then back up the park towards his appointed meeting place, Shakespeare Garden. Easy to find, yet not so well-travelled as, say, Bethesda Fountain.

  Linders had Detective Ryder set up twenty minutes before, posing as a tourist on a picnic. Gauss was somewhere in the area, keeping his distance but in contact with Ryder and Linders.

  “Linchpin should arrive in two minutes,” Linders heard Gauss give the code word for Logan in her earpiece. She discreetly tapped it in acknowledgement.

  John had needed the time alone before the meeting. He looked upon yesterday’s experience with Julie as a failure. Despite his resolve, he hadn’t been able to ask her out. After years of being single, and months of admiring Julie from afar, when the time finally came to act, he crashed and burned. Brilliant!

  His decision to be brave and take initiative couldn’t have been timed any worse. That damned data breach, and Linders approaching him under false pretenses, asking him to assist the government in breaking the code of some group of smugglers. He felt used, and had half a mind to refuse.

  John sighed. There was no way in hell he would refuse. He needed to do his duty, not only to his country, but to the university, to help find the hackers and do his part to bring them to justice. And, hopefully, to make the poacher’s lives miserable in the process.

  Yet he couldn’t get Julie out of his mind. She was beautiful and kind, and—

  “Hello John, how are you?”

  It was Diane. John looked around in surprise. He had been so deep in thought, he had walked nearly halfway up the park without realizing it, all the way to Shakespeare Garden.

  “Let's walk around the garden,” Diane continued, taking his arm. John was conflicted at her touch. Diane was probably used to establishing all sorts of fabricated relationships, but it was difficult more difficult for him. He tried to remain stoic and professional.

  “We’ll walk slowly as if in deep conversation, keeping our voices low while admiring the flowers.” Diane said. “If someone gets too close to us, I may redirect the conversation. If that happens, just follow my lead, all right?”

  “Fine. So, how can I help?”

  “Before the end of our meeting, I’ll slip a thumb drive into your pocket. It will contain some code we managed to extract from an encrypted mobile phone conversation. We’re hoping some of it will appear familiar to you. We believe it has been modified from your work, and we’re hoping you’ll be able to decrypt it.”

  “Once Julius restores the security of the university network, President Corelli will be expecting me to restore or recreate my work. There will be some overlap for what you require, of course, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to devote all of my time to your cause, Diane.”

  “I’ve spoken with Corelli. We have you down as a ‘special consultant’ to the FBI. Corelli signed a confidentiality agreement, and he has promised your full cooperation.” Diane continued talking, but John’s mind wandered, and he didn’t hear her. The stress he had been under lately made it difficult for him to concentrate. He surprised himself by thinking not of his lost work, but of Julie. She was the first woman since his undergraduate days with April that had captivated his imagination so completely.

  “John, are you paying attention?” Diane asked.

  “Yes. Sorry. I’m just a little distracted. I’ll be fine.” Diane thought for a moment before responding. She decided to be forthright. They needed to know what was on Logan’s mind if he were going to be working with them.

  “Is it the barista? Julie?”

  John looked at Diane, then looked straight ahead. “Maybe. No. It’s personal Diane. I’ll be able to sort it out” he said quietly.

  “I’m sure you can,” Linders replied, “But part of field work such as this is compartmentalizing our personal feelings. That doesn’t mean denying them, but ensuring they won’t distract us enough to cause a problem.”

  “I’m not a professional like you Diane, so forgive me if I have a little difficulty focusing. My entire department at the university is in a shambles, and none of us know when, or even if, we can salvage our work.”

  “I understand. And your feelings for Julie added to the mix are making your life even more stressful. If I may ask, how long have you felt this way about her?”

  John hesitated. “Again, Diane, I’m not exactly comfortable talking to you about this. It’s personal and something I need to work out on my own.”

  Diane nodded slowly indicating that she understood. This is going to be delicate, she thought. She was genuinely sympathetic, but needed to get Logan back on track. Perhaps while getting Logan to focus on the task at hand, she could help him at the same time. Diane smiled and looked up at him.

  “I know what you’re going through, John. Your stomach is upset, you feel distracted, and you’re kicking yourself for not acting sooner with Julie.”

  John looked down at Diane. She had basically summed up his dilemma in one sentence. He hated to appear weak or unprofessional, but maybe it would help to talk about it, just a little.

  “Ah, I’ve felt this way about her for three or four months. Maybe longer.”

  “And you haven’t asked her out?”

  “No.”

  “Is that what you attempted yesterday when you returned to the cafe?” John stopped walking and sat down on a nearby bench. It was 2pm, and at this time on a weekday there weren’t many people around. He sighed again.

  “Yes. But I ended up chickening out.”

  “No, you didn’t. I saw that rude customer elbow her way in. Had that not happened, I’m sure you would have followed through. Still, it might be prudent to wait for a lull at the shop before trying again.”

  “You think I should try again? Damn it, I don’t know. She’s young, she has a lot of friends. She recently broke up with someone anyway, and asking her out might only put her on the spot,” he shook his head negatively. Diane sat beside him.

  “Why don’t I talk to her? Maintaining my cover as a student of course. I can make some friendly conversation, and let her know that I’m seeing someone, so she won’t have the impression that you and I are dating.”

  John shifted towards Diane and looked into her eyes. She seemed sincere. For the first time that day, John felt optimistic.

  “That, uh, that might be helpful, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, let’s talk shop for a few minutes.”

  John was able to focus as Diane went over some of the protocols. Inwardly, she wondered if her matchmaking plan was a good idea. DeCourcey wouldn’t approve. Like Kwok, he would think it an unnecessary complication to the plan, and advise agai
nst it. Diane realized they might be right, but she also understood John’s anguish. If Julie accepted his invitation to a date, he would be elated, and would likely be very cooperative. If she shot him down, hopefully he would be able to cope. It was a risk. Her sympathy and fondness for John made the risk worth taking.

  ***

  Julius Coppola was on the verge of throwing the vibrating smartphone across his office, but at the last second he thought better of it. He had always been a little hot-headed, and he had more than a few broken coffee mugs to prove it. His emotional episodes were mostly private and short, and he’d never damaged his or anyone else’s electronics, even during the most stressful times.

  But this was different. His career, and his freedom were on the line. John Logan was texting again, demanding to meet. Damn it! Why doesn’t Logan just trust me? Julius realized the absurdity of the thought immediately. Logan and Corelli’s ever-more frequent inquiries and demands were reasonable, given the situation. Julius wondered what lies he would be telling John this afternoon. He knew that he was only delaying the inevitable. What if they don’t buy the ‘mole’ theory? They must! But soon they will demand evidence, I might be able to plant a couple of false trails… No! Bogdan and his damn VAX will be on the lookout. No matter what, I’ll be suspended. And then I’m looking at serious jail time.

  Julius agreed to meet John at the southwest edge of the park Reservoir, and then walk south from there along some of the less travelled footpaths. Twenty-five minutes later Julius saw John leaning against the fence facing the water as a couple of joggers ran past. Julius decided to head off as many questions as possible.

  “John, listen. I have nothing new to report. I’m still working from the assumption that this was an inside job.”

  “I agree,” John said as he turned away from the fence to face him. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Julius was speechless. He stared at his friend, expectant and hopeful as they walked south along the curving path.

  “Bogdan had some interesting information for me this morning. There was an intern who was a member of the department for a time, but I haven’t seen him for a couple of months now. I can’t think of his name; Bogdan knew him better than I did, obviously. Maybe you remember him also. Some guy from Tanzania. Shit, this is embarrassing, but you know how bad I am with names. I selected the guy myself last year, but after he finished his term he just seemed to fade away. Really bright, though.”

  Julius knew who John was talking about, and he was grateful for this stroke of luck. The former research assistant and grad student who was run over a few days ago. Julius had to restrain himself from shouting the name.

  “You mean Salim Abood?”

  “That’s it! Abood. Salim Abood,” John repeated. “I remember him being very enthusiastic at first, but then he withdrew, seemed to be doing his own thing. I had meant to ask him if there was anything wrong, you know, something personal, or whatever, but I never got around to it, being absorbed in my own work. Then he just disappeared. Didn’t show up one day. Bogdan told me a week after that Abood had lost his scholarship or his student visa had been revoked or something. Family problems, maybe? Can’t remember exactly.”

  “He’s dead. Hit by a car two days ago.”

  “You’re kidding,” John stopped walking. “Why didn’t Bogdan or I hear about it?”

  “It hardly made the news, just another pedestrian fatality. There was an announcement on the university’s web page, but the data breach happened around the same time. You and Bogdan and everybody else has had their head down, operating on little sleep. And like you say, the guy wasn’t around anymore. Don’t feel bad, John, you had a lot on your mind.”

  John’s mind raced. In view of what Diane had told him about how dangerous the smugglers were, he wondered if Abood was indeed involved. It seemed like a good fit.

  “Julius, have you been approached by Interpol over the last day or two?”

  “Interpol? I don’t think so. I’ve been questioned by the FBI, but so have you, and so has the rest of the department, along with Corelli. Why, have you?”

  “Yes. I have to admit that I wasn’t going to tell you, because they want to keep this as secret as possible, but now that you’ve mentioned Abood’s death…” John stared off into space for a moment, then continued. “A woman named… actually, for the time being, I won’t tell you her name. A woman approached me about a smuggling operation they are investigating. They said that the data breach we experienced is related to that. And I think Abood might have been the inside man.”

  Julius was elated. This was the first good news he had heard over the past two nerve-wracking days. But he wanted to appear cool.

  “What, um, what evidence do you have?”

  “The network logs. Not the normal ones that were erased of course, but the logs on the VAX. They revealed Abood on one of the machines, during the time all of this happened. That jumped out at Bogdan because he said at that point Abood been had absent from here for four months. Then his login suddenly comes back, on the day of the breach.”

  “That is circumstantial, John,” Julius said, doing his best to be the honest skeptic.

  “The fact that he was killed right after the breach makes it much more than a coincidence, don’t you think? Come on, Julius! That means he was here in New York, not Tanzania. Di… I mean my contact, told me these smugglers are dangerous and that they’ve killed people in the past, to protect themselves.”

  “Okay, John. I mean of course you’re right, but only if the breach was an inside job as opposed to a remote hack. Are you going to inform your contact about Abood?”

  “Well yeah. The university, the FBI and several other three-letter agencies including DHS had to have cleared Abood before he was allowed anywhere near my department. You know that. But if he was back and if he was in the news because of his death, I’d guess my contact already knows.”

  “This, um, ‘Di’. Is she the super-hot dangerous operative that we see in movies? The one that seduces you, then tries to kill you? Oh, wait, that’s what the enemy operatives do. Since she is on your side, maybe she will kill your enemies and fall in love with you!” Julius could hardly contain his positive change of mood.

  “Listen, Jules, I’m in no mood for joking around, and neither should you. I can’t talk about her… or him. I only mentioned this because of your mole theory, so let’s leave it at that. If they want more information, they will contact you directly, so please, be discreet, will you?”

  “All right, sorry.” Julius couldn’t help but smile to himself. Maybe Marc will appreciate this information. No harm in passing it along, I’m sure.

  On the next section of fence, Agent Kwok and Detective Ricci were standing around in jogging wear, stretching, chatting and pretending to check texts and emails as they relayed everything John and Julius were saying. At the other end, Max Gauss was shaking his head. He hated it when assets improvised without consultation. This was a security breach, perhaps a minor one, but one that could snowball. He had seen it on the job before, and the results were disastrous.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Eve Bissette was memorable, but Bishop had his mind on the business at hand. Besides that, arrivals at JFK could be hectic. He was getting special treatment, no doubt about it, but the Marine Corps bird colonel staring at him sternly across the table in the interrogation room meant that “special treatment” could go either way.

  “Nice to see the corps looking out for all of us, Colonel,” Bishop said casually. “What can I do for you?”

  “You can start by wiping that grin off your face,” the man replied, looking at Bishop bleakly from underneath heavy brow ridges. “This interview will determine whether you continue on mission or spend some unpleasant months or years in the brig at Lejeune. That would be the Marine Corps brig at Camp Lejeune, in case you’d forgotten.”

  Bishop knew the tactic and he knew why he was being detained. Someone in Cameroon had whined about the very dead poachers
. The colonel, Hoksted, Col. J., if his name tag was anything to go by, was present to determine whether or not Bishop had broken the rules of engagement, taking out frustrations or anger on a gang of poachers that he thought no one would ever miss. But Hoksted looked like he’d already made up his mind. It was an attitude Bishop recognized easily because he was an ex-Marine and knew exactly what the corps thought about the intelligence services.

  “Ask your questions, Colonel,” Bishop replied, still smiling slightly.

  “Word is you screwed the pooch in Cameroon. You’re a Marine, retired, but you’ve been temporarily recalled for the purposes of this interview. I’ve been read in.” That meant only that the good colonel had been given security clearance to ask questions—some detailed ones—for the purposes of this interview. “Lay it out for me right now. Why was there collateral damage?”

  “Your sources are wrong, colonel,” Bishop replied, using his best ‘I’m in charge here, actually’ tone of voice. “The intel from a confidential informant was partially correct and partially a trap. I sniffed out the trap easily enough because the informant was unsophisticated. The good part of the intel led me to a situation in which there was no reason for me to avoid interdicting an armed group actively committing a federal and international crime. Under the deputizing authority of Captain Eloundou of the Cameroon army Bataillon Blinde de Reconnaissance, I was able to reduce the damage done by the criminal gang. Without Captain Eloundou’s skill, experience and intel, I would not have been able to achieve even the modest gain I managed. The good captain deserves all the credit.”

  “I was told you’d say that,” Hoksted replied. “I don’t buy it.”

  “Buy it. Don’t buy it. I don’t care, colonel. Captain Eloundou, who has the authority to designate and deputize anyone he chooses, provided the authority for my actions. Several federal criminals, Cameroon citizens all, and all of them wanted internationally by Interpol as well, will no longer be committing crimes. I’d bet real money—I’d bet your $7,250 a month-plus-expenses salary—that Eloundou is going to get a medal for this. So I suggest you fill out your report positively, Colonel, and let me get on with my day.”