by Rex Fuller
At the start, she majored in biology and then switched to computer science. While not a pioneer, she was among the relatively few female computer science majors to graduate and was proud of that. She was a prized commodity because of her grades and overall record. Job recruiters found her early. She spent the summer between her junior and senior years in the computer research lab at IBM headquarters in upstate New York.
She assumed she would probably go back to IBM after graduation. Midway through her senior year even more high-profile outfits recruited her, Wall Street investment banks and Silicon Valley companies. She took two trips to New York city with the bankers and generally liked what she saw. She had also visited the West Coast with Hewlett Packard and Intel.
One of her professors wrote to the Defense Department and the CIA about her. He suggested she might be interested in the government because they could pay for graduate education. That possibility really got her attention. As a kid from a close-knit community, she grasped the sense of mission and the feeling of serving the country by working in government.
After graduation, she took a position with DARPA, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. She helped with their development of advanced communications switching. Her supervisor recommended her to the Deputy Director of NSA, the National Security Agency. She toured their computer facilities, something very few people ever saw. Actually, no one saw it without the special security clearances that she already had from her work at DARPA. She was dazzled. The sight of acres of the fastest computers in the world was enough to attract her. But there was also a chance to apply her talent and skill to thwarting a wide range of threats to the country. That completely fascinated her.
At NSA she discovered she was a good manager. Her farming background bred into her an instinct for the practical. She understood that resources were inherently limited. She took it for granted that everyone had something to contribute and she knew how to rely on and work with others. She multiplied the results of those around her.
NSA knew she was good and they wanted to keep her. They sent her to MIT for her advanced degree. That carried a three year pay-back requirement. But it did not bother her in the least. She was quickly gaining an excellent reputation and was clearly going to be advancing.
She was tapped to manage efforts on terrorist communications. After her death, the Pierces learned from reading her personnel records that her team had isolated the communications proving the Iranian government backed attacks against U.S. personnel, including the Khobar Towers bombing. Release of information outside of NSA was very restricted. So it wasn’t possible for her to talk about that or any other detail describing her work.
NSA had to work harder and harder tracking terrorists and other threats. There were many problems. Even from the beginning the Russians bitterly opposed the Strategic Defense Initiative, what the press called “Star Wars.” Both the Russians and the Chinese were actually trying to steal the results of the research behind all of those efforts by the U.S., and to develop their own capabilities. NSA was receiving constant requests for updates on Russian and Chinese activity and their intelligence targets. It was very hectic for her.
When it was near chaos in the old communist countries, especially during the war in Bosnia, she worked harder than ever.
Then when the 9/11 attacks came, NSA’s work multiplied again because of the inherent difficulty of tracking al Queda as a non-government entity. The whole Middle East from the Mediterranean to Pakistan became a new focus.
Still, the Pierces had no clear understanding of what she actually did. Samantha had only been able to say that generally what they saw on the TV news was what she worked on. She could not tell them anything about the technology involved, or of course, how it was used, or even whether NSA knew anything more than what the TV news reported. Then, NSA went into a period of uncertainty.
Samantha said no one in the entire American government really understood exactly what American policy should be, except that it would be to fight Islamic terrorists. Consequently, they couldn’t budget or otherwise plan in a sensible way. Everyone, Congress, the President, agencies like the State Department, the Defense Department, the CIA…they all more or less by default, were told “just keep doing what you are doing but focus on al Queda.”
After the new Administration came into office, the entire Defense establishment seemed to have to justify its very existence. Priorities changed from keeping defense sharp to non-defense matters. The Administration transferred as much of the budget as possible to the domestic agencies. Samantha still said that just what we saw on TV was involving her. Uncertainty over the nature and role of the DoD was being played out in her agency as well.
Samantha began writing longer letters home. They were still generic, not revealing any details about NSA, but the Pierces gradually realized through them that NSA was in near upheaval. The goals touted in the news, such as re-inventing government and diversity, translated into getting rid of people to reduce costs. She described her feelings as very ambivalent. As a woman in the computer science field she had felt she was not likely to be the target of efforts to reduce the payroll. Additionally, as one of the few experienced women in NSA, she wanted to be part of the process of re-tooling and re-focusing.
But she was suffering disillusionment. Before, NSA’s mission had been the unspoken first priority of every single person. But no longer. Fear of what would happen next, and who might go, was just palpable. Unspoken trust was gone and the mission was affected by political calculus.
Then one day, almost out of the blue, she called and said she was coming home for a few days of badly needed vacation. Two days later, she arrived. She was her old self. She obviously felt relieved and unstressed, contrary to the picture of worry they had painted in our own minds.
However, she told them that her career at NSA was probably over. She had been referred for something called “psychological evaluation.” She understood from the looks on their faces that made no sense whatsoever. She reassured them that she was absolutely fine, “never better.” She said the reason the referral for psychological evaluation was significant was that she had to keep a security clearance. The security clearance could be pulled if the psychologist found she was not reliable. She told them that it was almost a standard procedure for getting rid of people have them flunk the “psych eval.”
Mike broke in with a question.
“Kathy, do you know what her supervisor’s name was?”
“We later learned it was James Barrington. I thought it was odd when I remembered he had come to the funeral.”
“Okay, go on.”
Kathy recounted the conversation of how it was a standard procedure, how she would not go along with giving a false write-up to a subordinate, was dead-ended by the psych eval and was ready to move on. She had wanted to explain it face to face, so they would not think she was keeping something from them. Harlan told her NSA was not good enough to keep her.
She returned to Washington two days later. She called and said they had flunked her on the psych eval. They said she was “clinically depressed and paranoid.” She said she was no more depressed and paranoid than anyone else, and that it was “bogus.” She repeated the old joke about, “you’d be paranoid too, if everyone was after you.”
Three months after she went back, she was dead. According to the death certificate, she had died of natural causes possibly occasioned by allergic reaction to prescribed medication. They went to Washington, retrieved her remains and some of her things, and brought them back to Weeping Water.
Kathy sniffled and paused and Harlan took up for her.
“Mike, I know you’re thinking, ‘We’ll never be able to prove she didn’t kill herself. She was depressed.’”
Harlan produced a photocopy of a letter from the inside breast pocket of his Mackinaw style overcoat and handed it to Mike.
It read,
Dear Mom and Dad,
Once again, I’m alright. If there really was s
omething wrong with me, or if the depression and paranoia determination was real, don’t you think you would be able to tell?
Don’t worry. I love you. No matter what happens I’ll always love you and cherish the knowledge that you will always love me.
Heck, I’d love to come home and help wait tables and get the crop, just like I used to. Or if you get tired of me, I can live anywhere for a couple years on the money I’ve saved.
I’m really very happy, thanks to the way you brought me up.
NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS, I’M ALRIGHT.
I love you and miss you, as always.
–Samantha
“Mike, she wrote that two days before she died.”
The old man’s voice was gravelly, struggling to speak over his emotions. His fire blue eyes were moist.
“Mr. and Mrs. Pierce, that’s such complete information I really don’t have any other questions right away. It’s not possible for me to give you any real reaction now. I have to think about it carefully and do some research. I promise to let you know something within a couple of days.”
Harlan handed Mike a manila folder.
“We brought copies of the death certificate and the last few documents from her personnel records to leave with you, although you won’t see much in them.”
“All right then, I’ll get back to you.”
Mike Carson researched the law that might be involved in such a case all the rest of the day and deep into the night. It pulled him into one blind alley after another. And the last one caved in on him. The next day he called Kathy at the number she gave him.
“I wish I had good news. I’ve researched every possible angle I can think of for a case like this and I can’t find any good way to proceed. I’ll send you a letter explaining it in detail so you won’t have to rely on this phone call later. I’m going to refer you to some other lawyers that I respect and you may need the letter I’ll send when you talk to them, if you decide to do so.
“Kathy, it all comes back to this. There are some kinds of cases you could bring, such as wrongful death, or something called constitutional torts, which is where a government agent is liable for deliberately violating constitutional rights, and there are some other kinds of possible suits, like malpractice against the psychologist. But in any case that you could bring, based on what you know now, you will run into defenses that will trump you. One of the most important is the fact that the government cannot be held liable for security clearance decisions. The courts will not touch that subject because of a Supreme Court case called Navy v. Egan. The Court said in that case that the President and the rest of the executive branch has exclusive authority on security clearance decisions. Lower courts have since expanded that to broadly mean they cannot review those decisions at all. As far as malpractice goes, you have to bring that case against the government but the ordinary defenses apply. Unless you have solid evidence of deliberate misconduct, not just mistaken diagnosis, there is no liability. Finally, in all of this there is a problem of causation. From what you’ve told me Samantha had virtually no ill effects from the government’s actions and proving she died as a result of them will be next to impossible.”
“So, even if she was depressed and the government caused it we could not prove that?”
“Correct. Kathy, I don’t think it could be worse. As I said I’ll refer you to some other lawyers. If you will permit me, I’ll include a copy of the materials you left with me and the letter I will write to you in the package I send to them. Would it be all right to send those materials to them?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. You should get a second opinion or two. It breaks my heart to be the one to have to tell you these things. You know in high school I felt for Samantha as much anyone. I just cannot in good conscience tell you to spend your money on a case that I can’t see going anywhere.”
“I know, Mike. I wouldn’t question your sincerity. That’s why we came to you.”
“Kathy, I’ll also provide you a copy of the letter that I send to each of the other lawyers. Other than that, please don’t hesitate to get back in touch with me if you have any questions about this, if something new comes up, or even if you just want to talk, okay?”
“Thanks, Mike, I know you did what you could.”
Kathy put down the phone. The world started closing in.
…where do we possibly turn now…
One of Samantha’s three colleagues who spoke to Kathy and Harlan at the reception after the funeral, Ted Fitzgerald, had a difficult duty to perform. He had to interview Stanley Wadell and it would shorten the man’s career.
Wadell sat at his NSA terminal as a lone, recognized figure approached.
“Mr. Wadell, I’m Ted Fitzgerald with the FBI. Here is my credential.”
…oh God, do they know…?
“Mr. Fitzgerald, I know who you are. You’re detailed here to the Security office. Catching any crooks?”
“Sir, I would like to talk to you concerning your activities. Would you come with me to the conference room, please.”
“Sure.”
The pair walked down the several corridors in NSA’s huge headquarters facility dedicated to Security’s use.
Fitzgerald shut the door behind them.
“Now, Mr. Wadell, first of all you have the right to remain silent in this interview…”
“And if I do, they’ll yank my clearance and fire me.”
“Sir, that is a matter for the management of NSA to determine. It is beyond my responsibility to comment on that. But you have indicated you are aware of your rights. Are you prepared to continue with the interview?”
…pea-brain, I just said I didn’t have a choice…
“Of course.”
“All right. Then I need to have a witness join us.”
Fitzgerald keyed the intercom for the head of Security.
“This is Cindy.”
“Cindy, Ted. I’m with Mr. Stanley Wadell. He has indicated a desire to continue with an interview. Can you send someone to act as a witness?”
“I’d do it myself but I’ll have to send Matt. Where are you?”
“We’re in the Security conference room.”
“He’ll be right there.”
The connection clicked off. “Someone’s on the way. Now, Mr. Wadell, I want to ask if you have any objection to my recording this interview?”
“Of course not.”
“All right. While we are waiting would you please review this form. It explains your rights in detail. If you want to continue with the interview you make an X in the appropriate block next to each of the rights listed. If you don’t want to continue, you make an X in any of the other blocks. Then, after the witness arrives, but not before, you sign the form. Any questions?”
“No.”
Wadell studied the form and completed the blocks waiving all of his rights.
The door opened and Matthew Pearlstein, Deputy Director of Security, National Security Agency, came in.
“Mr. Pearlstein, Mr. Wadell stated that he was prepared to waive his rights. We want you to witness his signature to this form indicating that.”
“Fine.”
Wadell signed and dated the form. Then Pearlstein signed and dated it as the witness.
“All right. Mr. Wadell a copy will be provided to you after the conclusion of the interview. If you change your mind at any time and want to stop or consult a lawyer, please let me know and the interview will stop. Do you understand?”
“Sure.”
“If you would like some water or something else to drink, I’ll be happy to get it for you. And if you need to take a break, just let me know.”
“Sure.”
After the preliminaries of name, address, telephone number, current employer, years of service, job title, and description of duties, Fitzgerald asked the first question of substance.
“Mr. Wadell, is it among your duties to report any discrepancies in the NSA software or equipment…”
>
…oh, God, they do know…
“Yes.”
“Have you become aware of any discrepancies in the recent past?”
“Yes.”
“Did you report them?”
“Yes.”
“To whom did you report them?”
“To my supervisor, Samantha Pierce…well, my then supervisor.”
“When did you report them?”
“When I found them.”
“What exactly were they?”
“They were software programs that were not authorized according to the design plan.”
“Did you report them in writing?”
“No, I wasn’t required to.”
“Did you report them to anyone else?”
“No, I wasn’t required to do that either, I don’t think.”
“Hmmm. You’re of course aware that Samantha Pierce is deceased?”
…and I’m aware she was a smart ass know-it-all…
“Yes.”
“How many reports did you make to her?”
…damn, he won’t give me a clue…
“Two. Well, two different discrepancies. We talked about them a lot more than that.”
“What did you talk about?”
…FBI fool, you’re giving me the chance to pin it on her…
“At first, or the first discrepancy, just about the nature of it. Regarding, the second one, she said we could use it, ourselves.”
“What did she mean?”
“I think she meant to use…to sell access to the data.”
“Are you sure?”
“If she didn’t, would I be sitting here?”
“Did she make any efforts to do that?”
“I believe so. She said she did.”
“Did you make any efforts to do so, independent of her?”
…you stupid FBI fuck, do you think I’m going to say yes to that…
“Of course not.”
“We have certain indications that you did.”
