Decency

by Rex Fuller

  “I don’t think you know this, Brandon. I recruited him.”

  He turned to the console operator. “Open a direct line, your reference, niner, two, six, niner.”

  The operator punched in the number, lifted one of the handsets and handed it to Brandon who handed it Mandy. They all waited, not knowing if Zhou would be able to answer. Mandy heard the ring continuing for a full minute. Finally, a very casual male voice answered in Mandarin.

  “General Zhou.”

  In clean, unaccented Mandarin, the Deputy Director of the Central Intelligence Agency purred like a hormonal teenager.

  “My sweet lover, I need you.”

  Momentarily, the memory of their arranged signal evaded the General. Remembering it immediately triggered alarms of the risks being forced upon him. He hesitated but responded in a tone suggesting unlimited passion.

  “My need for you towers over me.”

  “Shall we meet in the garden?”

  “I will fly. But moments, my darling.”

  The line went dead, Mandy returned the phone to the operator, and turned to Brandon.

  “Get your people to him right now. We need to know what the materials are, where they are, and if they’re sending people after them, when and where they arrive.”

  Brandon grabbed a handset, reached over the operator, and punched the reference for the Beijing station.

  “Beijing.”

  “This is Granger for Yost, immediate.”

  “Yost.”

  “Bart, Zhou is waiting at the flagpole in front of his apartment building. Send a female or a male with apologies. Here’s what we need. What are the Green Lilly materials? Where are they? If they’re sending people, when and where do they arrive? Get it yesterday.”

  “Call you back.”

  Brandon replaced the handset. Neither he nor Mandy liked what they just did and waiting to see what good came from it was already excruciating.

  Mandy knew from her own experience in Yost’s job, the process would take at least eight minutes and might not ever come to fruition. At least they would get a call back from Yost to let them know the status. Eight minutes ticked by. Then nine. No ring. Instead, the console operator knew which incoming was for Granger from the lights on the panel. The request for him played in the operator’s earphones. He connected it to a handset, picked it up and handed it to Granger, who cradled it on his shoulder and jotted notes.

  “Brandon, it’s bad…

  Granger punched the speakerphone button and Yost’s voice was heard from the small speaker on the console.

  “They reverse engineered some of NSA’s own listening devices, miniaturized and all, using supercomputers we sold them. They aren’t sure where they are. The FBI agent told them he put one at the Nebraska farm, whatever that means. Their people are coming from their resources in Long Beach. At least two of them. They left Long Beach just after Zhou’s talk with Jiang. Exact destination unknown.”

  Mandy turned and left as Brandon quickly read his notes to check them. There was a tape but it could be cumbersome to retrieve and play.

  “Thanks, Bart.”

  Brandon left and caught up with Mandy just as she got to her office. She mashed the secure speakerphone buttons for a conference call with the Attorney General and the NSA Director.

  “Chet McKenna…”

  “John Corrigan.”

  “John, Chet, Mandy. Chet, you were right…”

  She relayed the report from Yost.

  “John, Mandy. Listen very carefully. We have still bigger problems. The devices are ‘MIMID’s, for Mobile Implantable Micro Intercept Devices. They are the size of the works in a Rolex watch. NSA produced them combining data compression and miniaturization technologies from the nuclear weapons program to eliminate bulk from connectors and packaging. They are basically as capable as a high end computer server and a television station combined. They can be put anywhere and pick up fifty thousand channels and beam it to a ship, plane or a car, or with line of sight to a satellite. Right now we are looking at total compromise of all U.S. communications world wide. All of our forces anywhere in the world must assume they are communicating with the Chinese everything they send.”

  When he stopped, the other two were silent for a long, long moment.

  “Holy cow…”

  “Let’s get the President.”

  “Also, our employee, Samantha Pierce, grew up on a Nebraska farm. I can’t imagine the farm means anything else.”

  “He might have been trying to plant evidence of guilt on her.”

  “John, Mandy, we can’t assume Fitzgerald wasn’t or isn’t using the devices himself.”

  “I’m alerting FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team now, as we speak, to be ready to move…”

  “And I’m trying the President.”

  “White House.”

  “This is the AG for the President.”

  “One moment.”

  “Craig Horton.”

  “Craig, John. Chet and Mandy are on. The President asked us to call now.”

  “Hold on.”

  “How is it going, John?”

  “No progress on the arrest. We still don’t know where Fitzgerald is. Chet put Mandy onto something though. Her sources in China confirmed it just now. The Chinese reverse engineered some of NSA’s own miniaturized MIMIDs listening devices - which Chet just explained to us - using supercomputers we sold them. Fitzgerald has some. The Chinese don’t know where they are. Fitzgerald told them he put one at the Nebraska farm, probably where the Pierce woman grew up. The Chinese are sending at least two people from their resources in Long Beach to get the MIMIDs. They left there about three hours ago. Exactly where they are headed the source didn’t know. But if we don’t find these devices, all of them, we have to assume all of our communications, world-wide, are compromised.”

  “Our side’s losing, John, big time. Mandy, can I tell the Chinese to back off without burning the source?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Do we have to keep the source?”

  “Unquestionably.”

  “John, are you tracking the Chinese out of Long Beach?”

  “We normally do. I’ll check now, sir…”

  “Chet, Mandy, darn good work. Keep at it. Unless you catch something, you can drop out of the loop for now.”

  “Right, sir, thank you.”

  “NSA’s out.”

  “John, high-tail it over here. We need to get ahead of the curve. Craig Horton will be in charge in the Situation Room.”

  The President disconnected. The Attorney General knew the President just brought in a new quarterback.

  General McKenna punched the secure intercom button for Security.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Cindy. Worse news. Apparently, Fitzgerald had some MIMIDs the Chinese reverse engineered from our own.”

  “God, no.”

  “As of right now, assume every piece of equipment, every comm line, every frequency, in this entire facility is compromised until proven otherwise. It’s your job to do the proving. Be careful, the stuff will look like our own. Take as many people as you need. Test and re-test everything, starting with my conference room and office. Work your way through the highest priority elements first.”

  “We’ll have to shut down functions as we go.”

  “Shut down whatever you need to shut down. We are dirty. Clean us up.”

  “It’ll help if you tell everybody to light candles and not curse the darkness, sir.”

  “I’ll do it. Let’s get started. It’ll take a while.”

  “I’d say at least a month.”

  “I know.”

  A street in Annapolis near the West River, normally quiet, no longer was. Every occupant of all of the houses on both sides of the street that Fitzgerald’s former residence faced were evacuated.

  Having given their names, addresses, and phone numbers, and the names of all of the other occupants of the houses they live in to the police, and repeatedly sta
ted, “No I don’t recall when I last saw Mr. Fitzgerald,” they were all standing behind the yellow police tape at both ends of the block watching several hundred police and FBI agents going over every possible feature outside of his house and, presumably, doing the same inside.

  If they could listen from that far away, they would have heard the on scene agent in charge speaking on his cell phone to Francis Johnson, the Director of the FBI.

  “…no obvious indications where he went and he could be using his FBI credentials. Those are not here…”

  “Yes, sir…photography…cataloguing and gathering the contents of the house…we’ll be here another eight hours at least.”

  26

  Theresa’s frantic return to the witness room completely baffled Kelly.

  “Theresa, ‘him’ who?”

  Duncan put his arms around his now crying wife, their child between them.

  “What, honey? What is it?”

  Between sobs, she could barely make sensible sounds. “H-him…he’s… the one…I’m sor-hory…the man…”

  “Honey calm down so you can talk.”

  “The…man…at the…bu-huss stop…who…”

  Kelly lurched out the door and looked up and down the corridor. It was empty.

  “Whoever was there is gone. Did you see anyone, Jannie?”

  “I think the man she saw was a tall well-dressed guy coming down the hall toward us.”

  Kelly was thinking out loud. “The corridor is too long…he must have gone into one of the rooms…unless he ran.”

  Then, to Theresa. “It’s going to be okay…we’re all here to protect you… can you come with Duncan and me just out in the corridor where you can point him out if you see him?”

  “Come on, honey, we can do this.”

  With his arms still around her, Duncan gently guided her out the door. Kelly, Bonnie, and Jannie followed.

  “Christian, would you stay and watch their things?”

  “Sure.”

  They began retracing the steps to the restroom. The first door to the left was the court room. When they opened the door, they edged Theresa inside and looked around the pews. They were empty.

  Jannie whispered to Kelly. “That might be him.”

  Carbajal was casually talking to the court room clerk. Jannie nodded toward him. Carbajal turned toward them to walk back to his desk.

  Kelly whispered to Theresa, “Is that the man?”

  Duncan gently half turned her toward Carbajal. She lifted her face from his now mascara-stained shirt, glanced at Carbajal, blanched, stiffened her body, and violently wagged her head that it was.

  “Theresa, are you absolutely sure, beyond any question?”

  She was angry at even being asked and hissed, “Yesss!”

  “Okay let’s get back to the waiting room.”

  Kelly’s head was spinning.

  …think…the procedure would be what…? …ask to speak to the judge outside the hearing of the opposing counsel…ex parte communications can be reversible error…think…this is so damn hard when you’re this tired…

  “Kelly, we’ve already entered strange territory…putting this on his plate could convince the judge we’re out of control.”

  …call the U.S. Attorney…? and say what…? a witness you won’t identify says the assistant in charge of the case threatened her…? THINK…

  “Bonnie, we have to make a record of it or it goes away…no investigation will vindicate her…and we’ll never have a better chance to do it.”

  “Theresa…Theresa, can you listen to me?”

  “Yes, it’s better now.”

  She loosened herself from Duncan and handed Gareth to him. She dug in her purse for a Kleenex and then wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

  “Really…it just shocked me so much…with everyone here with me I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay. If I ask you to testify, to get on the witness stand and point to the man and say in a loud strong voice that he threatened you…look him right in the eye, point your finger straight at him and accuse him…can you do it?”

  “I think so. I’ll sure try…it’s my chance to do the same back to him.”

  “Bless you…I don’t know if the judge will allow it yet. But it will be very soon after we go back in if he does. So be ready any minute.”

  “Let’s go, Bonnie, we’re about due back.”

  As they re-entered the court room the bailiff was just coming out to get them. He turned around and retraced his route to his post at the judge’s entrance, nodding to the court room clerk. The clerk once again picked up the phone and said, “We’re ready.”

  “All rise! ”

  The judge stepped lively to his chair, his robe whirling about his legs.

  Carbajal had taken his position at the lectern to begin his argument. An over-stuffed three ring binder rested open on the sloping top of the lectern.

  “Mr. Carbajal, this matter came on for hearing in an extraordinarily accelerated fashion. Tell me please, to what extent have you or others in your office consulted with the Department of Justice in regard to the matters raised by this motion?”

  “To my knowledge, your Honor, consultation has been limited to the issue of representation of the individual defendant, Cochran, that was addressed by your Honor at the previous hearing where Mrs. Holdredge represented the defendants.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Carbajal, you may sit down.”

  Carbajal remained standing at the lectern, apparently unsure what he should do.

  The judge made it clear to him.

  “Mr. Carbajal, take your seat.”

  “Oh…yes, your Honor.”

  Carbajal gathered his monstrous binder and ever so casually returned to his chair.

  “First, Ms. Hawkins, I am ordering that you make the original audio tape and video tape a part of the record in this case. Deposit them with the court room clerk not later than close of business today.”

  “I will, your Honor.”

  Bonnie reached into her briefcase, retrieved the tapes and handed them to Kelly.

  Kelly rose.

  “Your Honor, let the record reflect that I am handing the original tapes to the court room clerk now and requesting permission to obtain copies from the clerk’s office as soon as they can be made available.”

  The Judge said, “It is so ordered. The audio tape will be marked Court Exhibit One, the video tape, Court Exhibit Two. With respect to the pending motion, the court finds that questions material to the adequate protection of the rights of both parties, the plaintiffs and the defendants, remain. Specifically, it is not clear what steps the defendant United States has taken or would take with respect to the actions of certain of its employees, including the defendant Cochran, if given an adequate opportunity to review them. Finally, although it is clear that the discretion to offer the use of the witness protection program rests exclusively with the Attorney General, the information necessary to the exercise of that discretion has not been available for a sufficient time to allow adequate consideration. The necessity for this court to act with respect to the motion may be rendered moot depending upon the manner in which the Attorney General would exercise that discretion.

  “Consequently, the court reserves ruling with respect to the motion, will forward the record to the Attorney General for consideration and disposition of the matters within the Attorney General’s discretion, and will rule upon the matters raised in the motion when the Attorney General makes that disposition.

  “The Court suspends the scheduling order previously entered in this case until such time as the court is advised that the Attorney General has acted. The Court directs the parties to request any modification of the suspension or of the scheduling order by motion.”

  “If there is nothing else from either party…”

  Kelly rose. “Your Honor, there is something further.”

  Kelly whispered to Bonnie. “Bring Theresa to the court room door.”

  Bonnie hustled out of her sea
t, through the gate in the railing and out the door.

  Although the judge was hard put to imagine what more Kelly could possibly want, he nevertheless allowed her the chance to ask.

  “You may proceed, Ms. Hawkins.”

  “This matter is new. It just came to my attention during the recess. However, it affects the record which your Honor has indicated an intention to forward to the United States Attorney General. Specifically, the Jane Doe declaration in support of the motion states that the identity of the person making the threat described in that declaration is unknown. We have just obtained information concerning the identity of the person making the threat and request permission to introduce evidence on that issue in order to make an accurate and complete record.”

  “You may proceed.”

  “Plaintiff calls Jane Doe.”

  Kelly turned and motioned to Bonnie and Theresa to come in.

  “Just step up to the witness stand and be sworn.”

  Carbajal involuntarily fidgeted in his chair.

  “Your Honor, I request that the witness be allowed to identify herself as Jane Doe and not to state her name.”

  “The witness may identify herself as Jane Doe. Ma’am, the bailiff will ask you your name. Just say ‘Jane Doe.’ And then the bailiff will swear you in.”

  “State your name please.”

  “Jane Doe.”

  “Raise your right hand please.”

  “Do you swear that the testimony you will give in the case now in hearing will be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Be seated.”

  Kelly began. “Are you the person, identified as Jane Doe who made a declaration in this case?”

  “Yes, I did, I don’t know if anyone else did.”

  “Are the statements made in that declaration the truth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you state in the declaration that an unknown person made statements to you near your home that were threats to you and your family?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know the name of that person now?”

  “The person’s name…no.”