The StarSight Project

by S. P. Perone

  Because the StarSight team had already committed to working throughout the Thanksgiving holiday period, they had all decided to celebrate Thanksgiving together on Wednesday, November 24, at the Pleasanton Hotel. A private room had been reserved. And, an early dinner was scheduled so they could return to work that evening. One of Ali-Sheikh’s agents, posing as an inspector from the county health department, would plant the bomb earlier that day. The remote detonator would be delivered in a package to Max’s hotel mailbox. Max’s surveillance would be required to determine when the group was completely assembled in their private dining room, and then to detonate the device.

  By the evening of November 24 in the eastern United States, as the early morning of November 25 dawned in Europe, the Bear would be in his suite in Zurich, receiving the call from Captain Kirschnikov and giving final authorization for the missile launch. Then, he and Ali-Sheikh would sit back and eagerly await the CNN reports of the nearly simultaneous terrorist attacks on the west and east coasts of North America. The one would claim the lives of an elite group of scientists working on a classified project at a national lab; while the other would cause unprecedented horror and death falling from the skies over some of the busiest airports in the world.

  It was not unusual for Ellen to remain up late in the evening, reading a novel or enjoying the Jay Leno Show, while waiting for her husband’s return from one of his frequent late engagements. They had a long-standing tradition of finding their way to bed together each night. Although Gerry had gone through a period of aloofness recently, that had all changed since their trip to San Francisco.

  Tonight, however, Ellen was not looking forward to a tender reunion at the Senator’s homecoming. Clearly agitated, she was pacing from kitchen to front room; peering out the front window every 5 minutes. A pot of coffee had been consumed; and she was on the verge of lighting up her first cigarette of the year. She desperately needed to talk to her husband.

  Looking at the kitchen clock again, she realized it was nearly midnight. It had been eight hours earlier, she reflected, when Robert Lee of the WashingtonSentinel had finally departed their home. His visit had been unexpected, and his message had been unnerving. She hoped that Gerry could explain what was going on.

  Just then, the front door opened, and the Senator walked in, his face vividly lined with the marks of an exhausting day. Instantly, Ellen knew she must erase her frown, put on a smile, and welcome him home warmly. She was afraid she could not possibly conceal her stress; and she knew she could not join her husband in bed tonight without addressing the issues that had been raised today. Slowly, apprehensively, forcing a smile on her face, she moved to greet him…grateful suddenly that she had chosen to wear the long dark blue silky nightgown this evening.

  “Hi, honey,” she said, as she reached his side, slipped an arm around his waist and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad to see you home. Can I get you a cup of coffee? Or some hot chocolate?”

  “Hi, sweetheart. I’m really sorry to keep you up so late. Some hot chocolate would be great, though, if you can join me. OK?”

  Holding his hand, and pulling him towards the back stairway, Ellen replied, “Sure. It’ll just take a few minutes. Why don’t you go upstairs and get comfortable. I’ll bring the hot chocolate up, and we can sit down and relax for a little bit.”

  Pecking her on the cheek, and patting her firm, silky behind, the Senator turned and made his way up the stairs, removing his jacket and loosening his tie as he moved. Ellen moved into the kitchen and began to prepare the hot chocolate, rehearsing her half of the painful dialogue that would take place shortly, as they sat together in front of the fireplace in their upstairs bedroom.

  By the time Ellen had prepared and poured their two cups of hot chocolate, turned off the downstairs lights and appliances, checked the doors, and climbed the stairs to their bedroom, the Senator had taken a quick shower. Ellen lit the gas-log fireplace and curled up on one half of the love seat facing the fire, holding her warm cup between her hands. The Senator’s cup had been placed on the low antique mahogany table separating the love seat from the fireplace. Wrapped only in a bulky, pale green terrycloth robe, the Senator emerged promptly from the bathroom to take a seat next to her. Grasping the cup of hot chocolate in one hand, propping his bare feet up on the table, and slouching down in the love seat, he reached over to place his other hand on Ellen’s thigh. As she responded by tucking her feet under his leg, he released a long sigh, signaling that he had finally achieved the relaxed state that had eluded him during the long stressful day.

  “Gerry,” she began, “there’s something we need to talk about. I hope you’re not too tired.”

  A tribute to her self-control, the Senator was oblivious to Ellen’s anxiety level. Anticipating a conversation regarding holiday entertaining or some crisis in their daughter’s love life, he simply nodded his head…the motion indicating his willingness to listen, but the silence indicating he was too tired to have a very productive discussion. Ellen knew that he was totally unprepared when she asked, “How well do you know a Mr. Robert Lee of theSentinel ?”

  Turning his head to look at her directly, she could see that the frown and stress lines had reappeared on his face. “We’ve met,” he said simply.

  “Well. He was here today, Gerry, and…”

  Before she could finish, the Senator had placed his feet on the floor, sat up straight, and blurted, “He was here? What was he doing here?” Placing his cup on the table, he removed his hand from Ellen’s thigh, placing it on the top of the love seat, and rotated to face her. His eyes were hard. His expression demanding.

  “Gerry. Please. Calm down. I don’t want to upset you. Just let me tell you what happened.”

  Letting his expression relax slightly, and reaching over to hold her suddenly cold hand, he said soothingly, “I’m sorry, honey. Just tell me what happened. I promise not to interrupt you. And…I promise you I will not be angry…if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

  After taking a deep breath, and bowing her head, she began to speak. “I’m not concerned about your anger, Gerry. I’m concerned about your deception.”

  Raising her head, and turning to look directly at the Senator, she continued, “Why didn’t you tell me about Lee? And…more importantly…why did you mislead me about the financial transactions involving my Swiss trust fund?”

  She paused, continuing to stare at him. Waiting for a reply.

  Suddenly put on the defensive, the Senator backpedaled. “I don’t know what Lee has told you, Ellen. Please…just tell me what he said…and I promise to answer any questions you might have. OK?”

  Still staring at him, Ellen considered his offer for a moment, and then began to speak. “Mr. Lee showed up this afternoon. Unannounced. He just knocked on the door. When I answered, he showed me his ID, and asked if he could ask me a few questions. My first reply was ‘no’. I told him I didn’t do interviews. But, then he asked me if I knew that his newspaper was about to publish an exposé regarding your campaign financing; that we might be in trouble for illegal trading in international stocks; and that it might lead to criminal charges.”

  Before the Senator could register his anger at Lee’s impertinence, Ellen continued. “I was stunned, Gerry. I don’t even remember inviting him in. The next thing I knew, we were seated in the front room and he had his pad out beginning to take notes.”

  “Can you tell me exactly what he said?” he asked. “And whatever you might have said?”

  “He told me that he had spoken to you about the evidence he had obtained about illegal stock transactions involving my Swiss trust fund. He said that was how you raised the twenty million dollars for your last senate campaign.”

  “Is this true, Gerry?” she asked, her eyes pleading now, hoping that he would expose this cruel joke.

  Regarding her with a concern that was just realizing the depth of her chagrin, he replied simply, “Yes. It’s true. I’m sorry, Ellen.”

  Pulling her hands
away from his, she turned her head to gaze at the fireplace. She remained silent. A large tear formed slowly, overflowed, and ran silently down her cheek, reflecting the firelight like a moving multi-faceted jewel.

  “Honey. Please trust me,” he began. “There is much more to the story. And, I will tell you everything that I can. But…please…you need to tell me what questions he asked you, and what you told him. It’s very important.”

  Without turning to look at him, Ellen said, “He asked me if I knew anything about these things. And I said ‘no’. He asked me if I had any comments. And, again, I just said ‘no’. Then, he asked me if I had a professional manager for the Swiss trust fund. And, I asked him why I should answer any of his questions. He said he was looking for any evidence for some other explanation for the illegal transactions…evidence that you were not responsible.”

  “My God! What a snake!” the Senator exclaimed. “He’s not interested in getting me off the hook. He was just trying to get something juicy from you to use in his article. Please tell me you didn’t fall for this.”

  Now she was angry. Turning to look at him directly, she said coolly, “You know, Gerry, if I hadn’t been blind-sided by this guy, maybe I would have been better prepared to handle his questions. Have you thought about that?”

  Suddenly contrite, he reached out and took both of her hands in his own. “You’re right, of course. I should have said something to you long ago. Can you believe me when I tell you that I thought nothing would come of Lee’s investigation…and that I wanted to spare you from the turmoil that I was going through?”

  Feeling the anger subside, she managed a sly smile, as she said, “Can you believe me when I tell you that I didn’t give him the time of day?”

  Momentarily surprised by her warm response, it took a couple of seconds for her statement to sink in. Then, he smiled, pulled her towards him, and kissed her softly on the lips. “I forgot how good you are at avoiding sharks, sweetheart. I should have known better.”

  “All right. Maybe youcan relax,” she said, putting her serious look on again. “I didn’t make things anyworse . But, you still need to explain to me what this is all about. I have been frantic all evening. What he said has really got me scared, Gerry.”

  While still holding her hands, the Senator leaned back and, for the first time, observed the uncharacteristic deep lines and puffiness that accented her face. “I’m sorry, honey. You deserve better than being put in the position you were in today. Why don’t you sit back, and let me tell you a story.”

  With that, the Senator stood up, grabbed an afghan from the foot of their bed, and placed it on his wife’s legs. Picking up his hot chocolate, he moved over to the side of the fireplace and turned around to face his wife. Slowly, leaving out no details, he related the entire story regarding the mysterious appearance of messages that had prompted him to recommend one profitable investment after another to Fritz Weber, the Swiss banker who managed Ellen’s trust fund for the Sovereign Bank of Zurich. Assuring her that he had not asked for this information, and had not been asked to do anything in return, he still could not explain why he had been selected to receive this financial windfall. He shared with her his suspicion that these investment tips had been provided to him by the CIA. Possibly to insure that they could continue their comfortable and productive relationship with the Senator. He had to admit, unfortunately, that he had never questioned the origins of the information, but had seized the opportunity to raise personal funds to run a re-election campaign free of contributions from special interests. The bottom line was that none of the financial windfall had been used to enhance their personal wealth, and the Senator had never been beholden to anyone because of it. Finally, he described the encounter with Robert Lee earlier that fall at a press luncheon, and the Senator’s assumption that Lee’s exposé would never see the light of day. The Senator was sure Lee would not be able to verify any of his allegations. In fact, he interpreted Lee’s encounter with Ellen today as a desperate attempt to validate his “information”.

  Stopping to take a sip of his now cold “hot” chocolate, the Senator peered at his wife over the rim of the cup. Her eyes were fixed on him; the earlier signs of stress slowly dissolving from her lovely face. Realizing he was finished, she spoke. “Thanks for sharing this with me, Gerry. Please, don’t ever feel that you need to keep anything from me. I’m a tough old broad…and you should know that by now. We’ve been together through law school, city politics, state politics, and this hellhole of two-faced backstabbing opportunists called Washington. We’ve never kept anything from one another…and we’ve held up pretty well. I know there are security things you can not share with me, but this was one I should have known about.”

  “I’m not scolding you, sweetheart,” she continued. “I’m just reminding you that I’m here, and I can help you share these burdens. You shouldn’t be alone out there.”

  “Let me ask you one thing, though,” she added, with an abrupt shift in her tone. “What in the world were you thinking of? You have to know that there’s no ‘free lunch’ in Washington! Surely, whoever guided you to this windfall will choose a time to call in their chips. It doesn’t matter whether Lee publishes his article or not; you’re going to have to pay a price somewhere down the line. Don’t you agree?”

  “I believe our benefactor has already been repaid,” he replied. “If the CIA did this to keep me in my position, they’ve succeeded.”

  “For goodness sake, Gerry, what if it was some other group that provided this information? What if they’re just waiting for the right time to jerk your chain?”

  “I’m convinced that is not the case, sweetheart. The timing of this whole affair coincided with my revelation to my contact at the CIA regarding concerns about campaign finances. I’m sure they were responsible for the financial tips. After all, they are in the most favorable position to acquire this kind of information regarding international commerce.”

  “Why don’t you just bring it up with your CIA contact, Gerry? If theywere responsible, wouldn’t they want to be aware of Lee’s threat to expose this activity? Didn’t you say that Lee had implied the CIA was involved?”

  Pausing to ponder her question, the Senator walked back over to the love seat, and sat down next to his wife once more. Turning to look at her, he replied finally, “You’re right. I should talk to them. I’m angry that Lee had the audacity to call on you…unannounced…and try to squeeze some validating statements from you. And, I’m beginning to wonder where he got his information…and what the motivations of his informers might be. Perhaps this is the right time to ask the CIA what they might know about this.”

  Reaching over to hold her hand, the Senator leaned forward to kiss his wife once more, this time feeling the warmth of her embrace. They had resolved the issue for now. It was time to go to bed.

  PART III

  International Events

  Chapter 15

  The Swiss Connection

  After their late meeting the preceding evening, Carothers had not expected to see his friend in his office again this morning. The message he had delivered to the Senator last night had not been well received, but that was not the subject of the meeting this morning. The Senator had made that clear in their earlier telephone conversation, but he had refused to tell Carothers what would be the topic of the “urgent” meeting he had requested.

  Seating himself across from Carothers, the Senator appeared agitated…fidgeting with his tie, scratching the bridge of his nose, and tugging at his collar…while they exchanged greetings. Abruptly, he launched into the topic that had brought him there. “Nathan,” he began, “do you know Robert Lee of theSentinel ?”

  “No. I don’t, Gerry. But, I know who he is. He’s an investigative reporter. And, a pretty good one, I think. I’ve read several of his feature stories.”

  “Do you know that he’s threatening me with exposing some embarrassing information about the funding of my election campaign a couple years ago?” the
Senator asked, locking his gaze onto Carothers’ and challenging him to respond frankly.

  “What makes you think I would know anything about this, Gerry?” Carothers replied, his gaze unwavering.

  For several long seconds, the Senator remained silent, while searching Carothers’ face for some sign of recognition. Finding none, he continued. “Don’t fence with me, Nathan. You would be losing your touch if you had no knowledge of this situation. And, I don’t think you’ve slipped any. So, why don’t you just level with me?”

  After a few moments of silence, while these two powerful figures continued their facedown, Carothers blinked. Casting his large, weary brown eyes downward to gaze at the huge black hands folded across his midsection, he began to respond. “Whether or not I know anything about Lee and his story is not the issue here, is it, Gerry?” Returning his gaze to meet the Senator’s, he continued. “You’re really wondering if we knew about how you raised your campaign funds; and if someone here leaked that information to Lee.”

  Interpreting the Senator’s silence as confirmation of his statement, Carothers continued. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Gerry, but we didn’t know anything about your campaign financing activities; and we certainly couldn’t leak the information to Lee. On the other hand…yes…we did learn about Lee’s story, and that he had threatened you with exposure.”

  “Give me a break, Nathan,” the Senator spat back, “you guys had to know about the financing. You set it all up.”

  “Is that what’s bothering you, Gerry? You think the CIA provided the insider information that made all that money for Ellen’s Swiss fund? Why do you think we would do something like that?”