Decency

by Rex Fuller

“Is that person in the court room?”

  The court room clerk looked around the room and frowned.

  “Yes.”

  “Point that person out, please.”

  Theresa slowly stood, visibly wrestled the muscles in her neck to turn her head to Carbajal, clenched her teeth, raised her arm straight out in front of her at Carbajal, and quivering from head to toe, accused him.

  “Him…that man…sitting at that table…that is the man who threatened me and my family.”

  Kelly’s voice was now booming with adrenaline.

  “Let the record reflect that the witness has identified Assistant United States Attorney Michael Carbajal, counsel for the defendants.”

  Kelly paused a full quarter of a minute before continuing.

  “And I have nothing further for the witness at this time, your Honor.”

  If the judge believed or disbelieved this utterly surprising testimony he did not display it in his facial expression or in his voice.

  “Your witness, Mr. Carbajal.”

  Carbajal’s mind has raced through dozens of sets of questions that he could ask to put a crack in Theresa’s credibility or the accuracy of her identification.

  …what was the weather…oh, you don’t remember the weather…? where were you looking when the alleged threats were made…? oh you don’t remember what you were looking at…? your statement says you were walking your baby, weren’t you looking at your baby…? where were you exactly…? you don’t remember exactly…? exactly what did the person say…? oh you don’t remember…?

  But won’t he just look like he’s grasping at straws, brow-beating, or plain silly? More than anything the horror of what was likely to happen to him, his career, and anything else he can bring to mind, was penetrating every tissue in his body.

  Somewhat inexplicably, even to himself, Carbajal felt his body stand and heard himself saying, “No questions for the witness at this time, your Honor.”

  Unable to believe what he just heard Carbajal say, the judge found himself compelled to examine the witness.

  “Why do you believe that the man who threatened you is sitting right there at that desk?”

  “Your Honor, I will never ever in my life forget his face. His dark hair combed straight back, and the way his cheekbones seem to slant, that little sneer on his face, and the color of his eyes, and the shape of his mouth…”

  The experience having proven not to have killed her, Theresa was now ready to rock and roll.

  “…but most of all I remember how his smile was so warm and friendly until he started saying those things and then changed to that little sneer. He scared me so badly I practically wrecked the baby carriage getting home. Yes, I am absolutely certain. That is him.”

  “Very well, anything for the witness from either side?”

  “Nothing from the plaintiffs, your Honor.”

  “Nothing further, your Honor.”

  The judge stared at Carbajal for a full fifteen seconds.

  …Mr. Carbajal…you are now blowing two chances to explain that are clearly set forth in the record…do something…

  “The witness is excused.”

  “You may step down and retire from the court room.”

  Theresa now confronted the problem of passing within leaping and grabbing distance of Carbajal. She curved her route to the gate in the railing as close to Kelly, and as far from Carbajal as possible. She glued her eyes on him, and walked very quickly past and out of the court room.

  “Your Honor, the Plaintiffs have no further evidence to offer at this time.”

  “Mr. Carbajal.” …this is chance number three, Mr. Carbajal…

  “Nothing further, your Honor.”

  Carbajal seemed physically unable to utter any other words.

  “Very well, the record is then complete. The matter will be pursued in accordance with the previously indicated order. And the hearing is adjourned.”

  “All rise! ”

  Kelly and Bonnie stood while the other participants exited the court room, Carbajal the quickest. Once alone, they slumped in their chairs.

  “Good move bringing the tapes with you, Bonnie.”

  “I just caught Jannie at the hotel conference room by phone and asked her to bring them. I liked how you got around identifying Theresa by name. I wondered how you would avoid waiving the whole motion we were here on as to her and probably her husband. We still may have to ask the Court to seal the portion of the record containing the audio tape because it mentions the names.”

  “Excellent, I’ll leave that to you. We have to do it fast. Hand write the motion in the clerk’s office before we even leave today. I think the judge will grant it.”

  Bonnie drew precious energy from the feeling of having contributed again.

  “Let’s go turn our folks loose. Then I’m going to Nebraska. I want to be the one to tell Kathy and Harlan how proud they can be of what their daughter did and be there to watch out for Fitzgerald. But I’ve got to get a direct flight ‘cause I’ll sleep right through a connection.”

  Bonnie giggled. “I believe you would.”

  Everyone present in the waiting room, other than Gareth who slept in Jannie’s arms, seemed to be holding Theresa’s hands. Without the energy of the moment, she had relapsed into fright and sat teary eyed in one of the chairs.

  Kelly bent over her.

  …poor thing…how did she ever get through…

  “Theresa, you were fantastic. Gareth will be very proud when his father tells him someday, how strong his mother was today.”

  She managed a weak smile and wiped her eyes.

  “Duncan, I think you and your family should stay at the hotel for another few days. Is that all right?”

  “Sure. We like the food and it’s a lot easier on Theresa’s nerves.”

  “Christian, thanks for being here. It was probably your affidavit that did it.”

  “Folks, the judge ordered the case referred to the Attorney General. At this point anything could happen, but nothing will probably change for at least a few days while the Attorney General looks at it. I have to go see the Pierce family. If you need me, Bonnie and Jannie can reach me. Again, thanks, all of you, for everything you did the past couple of days.”

  Kelly shook hands and hugged all around. She was already calling the airlines for the first direct flight to Omaha as she went out the waiting room door.

  In the car, she called Kathy’s cell phone.

  “Hello.”

  “Kathy, this is Kelly Hawkins.”

  “Kelly! My gosh I was worried…”

  “I don’t have enough time to tell you everything. I am on my way out there now. I’ll be there about 6:30 your time. I filed a motion this morning and sent copies to the Attorney General, the NSA, and a Senator. It should shake things up because I laid out evidence that Samantha provided what will certainly get a rogue FBI agent in trouble. But here’s the important part. He and his accomplices may come after you or come to your house to retrieve eavesdropping devices. Anyway, before I get there, don’t trust anybody. And I mean anybody. If you can, stay around people you know until I get there. Okay?”

  “Kelly, I’m in the cafe. There will be regular customers and a few pheasant hunters here all day. Harlan is in Lincoln and meeting me here when he gets back, probably about the time you get here.”

  “That sounds fine, just don’t trust anybody you don’t know. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  At 3:05 Kelly just barely made it to the gate at BWI and presented her boarding pass. The clerk stopped the gate attendant from closing the door, “for one more.” Mercifully, Kelly could slow to a walk down the jetway and the aisle of the crowded 737-400. She turned off the cell phone, and with three airline pillows, for head, shoulder, and hip, curled up as much as possible strapped in a coach seat.

  Tom, I miss you so…

  She was asleep before the plane backed away.

  27

  The White House Situation Room in the
basement of the West Wing was not often this busy. This time, speed was a necessity. Having the right players in place was the key to speed. This President delegated and did not let the delegation stop at the White House staff. This White House got the right people moving, then just made sure they kept going.

  The operations people from the agencies the President directed to attend, not the political types, sat around the conference table, representing Treasury, Defense, Justice, Commerce, Homeland Security, and Transportation. Sub-agencies, Joint Chiefs, FBI, Coast Guard, Border Patrol, NOAA, National Reconnaissance Office, Special Operations from Defense, and Secret Service were also here to avoid bureaucratic delay.

  Craig Horton, the Chief of Staff, took the head of the table. At 55, compact, and still muscular, his most arresting feature was dark brown eyes that seemingly drilled right through whatever he encountered. Horton was the lawyer who had worked with, or represented, the President since they both graduated from Stanford Law, thirty two years ago. The President could trust him to think like he did and counted heavily on that to clone himself through Horton.

  “We’ve had a serious security problem. This morning we found out an FBI agent named Theodore or Ted Fitzgerald has worked at NSA for eight years as an agent for China. An NSA employee named Samantha Pierce, who has since died, found it out. Her parents’ lawyer disclosed the information to Justice, NSA, and a Senator on the Intelligence Committee, and in a motion filed in Baltimore federal court this morning. It was filed in the open and the press will probably read it soon.

  “We don’t know where Fitzgerald is. CIA and NSA have thus far found out that the Chinese have reverse engineered NSA devices through Fitzgerald’s effort. These devices are called MIMID’s. They combine state of the art miniaturization and data compression technology. Think of each one as the best IBM server and NBC’s 30 Rock shrunk to the size of a wristwatch. Ours can kick the signal up to one of our satellites. We’re guessing the Chinese copies are probably the size of a double pack of chewing gum and get the signal out about ten thousand yards, due to their less precise machine tools.

  “The Chinese are sending people from their facilities in Long Beach that were leased to them in the late nineties to retrieve the devices. Fitzgerald claimed to the Chinese that one device was at the farm in Nebraska where Pierce grew up.

  “That brings us to right now. Check your turf and your egos at the door. The President has directed the following, roughly in this priority. We are here to get this done and insure any needed cooperation from your outfits is forthcoming.

  “One, Seize the listening devices.

  “Two, Prevent capture of the devices.

  “Three, Protect the Pierce family - her mother and father live on the farm.

  “Four, arrest Fitzgerald.

  “Any questions so far?”

  The Vice-Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, Admiral James Beckman, spoke up. “If they reverse engineered the devices they can turn them out by the bucketful. Why prioritize their recovery the highest?”

  “Fair question. Basically, it comes down to finding out what they have gained in the intercept business. Aside from the immense risks to our personnel world-wide, which was subsumed in the question…”

  It was not subsumed, but the Admiral was not going to allow even the tiniest muscle in his face to acknowledge that Horton let him off easy.

  Nor was anyone else. Before the last remark, there was occasional paper rustling and watch-checking. Now, every mind in the room fixed on the full meaning of “compromising” communications from all U.S. planes, ships, and buildings, through all satellites, across all platforms… As it sank in, there was no sound. No sound at all, other than Horton.

  “…huge resource allocation issues for us arise from that. And if they are sending people to get them, there is some necessity to the Chinese to get the devices back. Related to that, assume all of your secure equipment and lines are compromised…”

  The Attorney General ruefully conceded to himself he had overlooked that problem all day.

  “…until you can prove they are not compromised. For some of you, especially Defense, that’s a hell of a big job.

  “The President already signed a national security determination authorizing Defense assistance to civil law enforcement that would otherwise run afoul of the Posse Comitatus Act, so don’t concern yourselves with that.

  “All right, the initial taskings are:

  “FBI, start a Hostage Rescue Team to Nebraska.

  “Defense and NRO, here are the coordinates of the Pierce farm.”

  Horton handed them a sheet with the Pierce farm’s latitude and longitude.

  “Defense, put a Joint Stars aircraft over it and tell us anything you can, vehicles, people, anywhere on the property, at all times.

  “NRO, same for you. Give us Global Hawk video and retask a bird if you have to, this may get to be a large operation.”

  NRO coordinated all United States satellite-based reconnaissance. It only recently acquired an RQ-4 Global Hawk for civilian law enforcement assistance. Horton had ordered almost the full gamut of aerial sensors. Synthetic Aperture radar from the Joint Stars plane. Live video from a Global Hawk, the most capable drone. Satellite imagery in all spectra, including retasking a satellite, a major effort and expense.

  “Now. Until we know we have a risk of danger to someone, especially the Pierces, we don’t want to just walk up to the door there or anywhere to ask if they have a problem, it would risk revealing our first priority, to seize the devices.

  “To the extent we can, we want our plans and people quietly in place. As of right now there is a SWAT team from the Nebraska State Patrol within one and a half miles of the Pierce farm if the need arises before the FBI can get there.

  “Any other questions?”

  The Treasury member raised a hand. “Craig, I don’t see any risk to the Pierces unless they accidentally show up in harm’s way. Why not brief them to keep them out of the picture?”

  “Here’s why this is harder than you think right now. The Pierces, Harlan and Kathy, Samantha’s parents, think the government killed their daughter.”

  Horton let that percolate for a moment. Then hit them harder.

  “From what we can tell, Fitzgerald probably did.”

  He paused another moment. “Let’s get this perfectly clear. Right now, each and every one of you, put a picture of the one person in the world you most dearly love in the front of your mind. Now, see yourself burying that loved one because the U.S. government killed him or her. On top of that, imagine the U.S. government lying to you about it. In your mind’s eye, see yourself using a year’s salary to find the truth. Now, visualize the U.S. government wiretapping your phones and then lying to you some more to cover up all of what it did.

  “Got that in you mind?”

  Silence.

  “Now, if there is a single person in this room who believes for an instant that you would trust anyone in the U.S. government, especially someone showing up just after you exposed everything in court, I want you to leave now, no questions asked. We can’t afford any mistaken thinking.”

  No one got up. Treasury visibly tortoise-necked lower an inch or two.

  “Okay. Hit the phones to put your folks to work, energize the right people to seize the listening devices, prevent their capture, protect the Pierce family, and arrest Fitzgerald. Then we’re going to stay out of their way while they do it.

  “We’ll reconvene in fifteen minutes. And,” he waited until every eye was on his own, “no one leaves this room until this is successfully resolved.”

  Horton pulled the Attorney General and the FBI representative, Kimberly Burke, back from the table to speak to them alone.

  “John and Kim, FBI will have on-scene command. Pick your three best on-scene commanders and have the closest one get to the farm, now. Have the other two spaced one in the west, say about Salt Lake, and one in the east, about Nashville, so they can get anywhere we need them.”

&nb
sp; The Attorney General looked to Kimberly.

  She said, “The best is Santos Sandoval. He’s the SAC in Chicago. Next are Langston Pruett and Parker Townsley. I’ll get them moving.”

  She hit the button for the FBI switchboard and asked for the Special Agent in Charge of the Chicago office. Fifteen seconds later he was on the line.

  “Santos, this is Kimberly. No matter what you are doing, stop. The President wants you to be on-scene commander in eastern Nebraska as fast as you can get there. I’ll work the helicopter to pick you up and the jet will be ready when you get to the airport. Call me from the plane through the headquarters switchboard and I’ll brief you. Now go.”

  She knew it was physically impossible for the Chicago SAC to drop everything all at once. She gave him the time to get to the airport to hand off the balls he was juggling. She looked at her watch. It was 3:19. He would be lucky to be there by 6:30.

  Fitzgerald strolled the kiosks in the terminal at O’Hare. He was dressed as a tourist, camera and all. He lollygagged and gawked at everything as though nothing in the world concerned him. Inside he was boiling.

  “…towering Chinese stupidity… …ignored me… …could have had all of the devices back…now, they will get none…their investment will be paid to me from whoever buys them…”

  He was also angry with himself for not keeping one of the four instead of installing two at NSA, one at Hawkins’ office, and one at the farm. Now, the only sure way to retrieve one was to go all the way to godforsaken Nebraska, again, before getting up to Toronto for the overseas flight.

  …going to be especially delicious to watch the bidding, starting at a hundred million dollars…ah well, 3:45, time to get on the plane.

  Fitzgerald did not see the Lear 55 with Santos Sandoval on board about to take off from the same runway he would. Santos picked up the phone and was automatically connected to the FBI switchboard.

  “FBI.”

  “Sandoval for Burke.”

  Kimberly picked up in the Situation Room. “Santos, get your coffee poured first, we’re going to be on for awhile.”