The Oshkosh Connection

by Andrew Watts

  In one section of the cabin, a meeting area had been set up. Rotating cushioned seats had been turned to face towards each other. In between them was an impressive breakfast spread laid out on a glossy maple table.

  “Coffee, tea, anyone?” asked Charles’s personal assistant.

  “We’ll be fine, thank you. No calls or visitors for now,” said Charles. The cabin door was shut, and Caleb, Charles, Max, Trent, and Renee all sat down. “Help yourselves.” Charles waved towards the pastries and coffee cups on the table.

  Wilkes began, “Max, I read your report. So far it sounds like Upton isn’t cooperating.” Max had typed up a short summary of the Upton interview on Renee’s computer the night before and sent it to Wilkes.

  “That’s my opinion. But as I wrote, I think she’s hiding something.”

  Wilkes nodded. “She claims she’s here as Senator Becker’s secret lover?”

  “That’s it.”

  “And no connection to Ian Williams or the ISI?”

  “Correct. According to Miss Upton,” Max said skeptically. “But Renee did some research and uncovered something interesting this morning.” Max filled Wilkes and his father in on what Renee had uncovered relating to the international trips then-congressman Becker had made to Afghanistan back in the 2000s.

  Wilkes didn’t look very surprised.

  “Excellent work, Renee,” Wilkes said. He turned to Charles, who was quiet. “What was your read on the senator, Charles?”

  Max looked at his father, who was staring back at his son, a look of admiration in his eyes. So, Wilkes was indeed using his father to probe Senator Becker, eh? It made sense, Max thought. The senator and the CEO had known each other for decades.

  Charles said, “He’s worried about something, I know that much. I ate dinner with him and his daughter, Karen, last night. When I wasn’t at the table, they engaged in a tense private conversation. Were you going to share that?”

  “In a moment, yes. Charles, if you would, please continue to shadow the senator today. Try to keep him in your sight as much as you can, and keep your guard up. His daughter performs this afternoon. The senator’s official schedule has him heading back to D.C. this evening, after his daughter’s performance.”

  Max said, “You think they’ll target Senator Becker while he’s here at Oshkosh?”

  Wilkes folded his hands in his lap. “I do. Max, I think it’s time that I provide you with a bit more about the senator’s history.”

  Chapter 24

  It began during the Cold War.

  When the Soviets had occupied Afghanistan in the 1980s, they’d accused the CIA of helping the Mujahideen smuggle opium out of the country in order to raise funds. While a connection between Western intelligence agencies and the Afghan drug trade had never been proven, the various Afghan factions had increased opium production in the country after the Soviets fled in 1989. This was partially due to the loss of alternative sources of financial support from the West.

  Opium production continued to flourish as the Taliban rose to power in the 1990s. That was until Mullah Omar, the effective leader of the Taliban, declared it un-Islamic in the year 2000. For a brief period, the Taliban enforced the eradication of poppy farming in Afghanistan, which resulted in a sixty-five percent drop in global heroin production during the year 2001.

  Then, on a clear sunny morning in September of that year, Al Qaeda terrorists hijacked four commercial airliners and the world changed forever. Soon after the attacks, the United States demanded that the Taliban hand over Osama bin Laden. The Taliban responded that they would not extradite bin Laden unless the United States provided “evidence that bin Laden was behind the September 11 terrorist attacks.”

  The US military soon began deploying to Afghanistan, and the Taliban was removed from power.

  Afghan farmers quickly returned to growing opium, which was much more profitable than anything else they could produce. Soon Afghanistan was supplying ninety percent of the world’s heroin and expanding its production each year. Opium was the lifeblood of the Afghan farming economy. In 2007, when Afghan leader Hamid Karzai addressed all thirty-four provincial governors in Kabul, he began his speech by denouncing the drug trade. The line was greeted by a few polite claps and many looks of concern. Later in the speech, he admonished the international community for wanting to spray Afghan opium crops. The room erupted in cheers.

  Wilkes said, “By the late 2000s, more than half of Afghanistan’s economy—around three billion dollars—was based on the drug trade. Three billion. That’s a lot of money, right?”

  Max said, “Sure. It’s a lot of money.”

  Wilkes leaned forward. “But it isn’t. Not compared to what it turns into. That’s damn pocket change. From there, the drugs flow across trade routes through Iran and Turkey on their way to Europe. In the opposite direction, they flow through India and by sea to East Asia and Australia. The drugs gain value every inch of the way. The closer they are to the customer, the more middlemen, the higher the risk, which needs to be built into the price. The heroin is sold on the streets for twenty times the original price. The Afghans only see a tiny piece of the action. So, who gets all that money?”

  “The international criminal organizations who traffic it and sell it on the streets.”

  “Yes. But that’s not all. Who else gets the money?”

  “I don’t know, who?”

  “Ask the ISI. Ask Ian Williams.”

  Max looked at him sideways. “What do you mean?”

  Wilkes smiled. “When Williams was still in good standing with MI6, he was working in their Pakistan field office, where I now believe he was recruited by our friend Abdul Syed of the ISI.”

  Trent said, “So Ian Williams got recruited by the ISI. That fits with what we know of him.”

  “Some of our sources confirmed that Williams was kicked out of MI6 for unethical and possibly illegal actions involving Afghan drug lords. He was also reportedly spotted meeting with an ISI operative, and he didn’t disclose the meeting to MI6. He was kicked out of MI6 as the investigations began. But he fled the country. MI6 tells us that they think he contacted his old buddies in Pakistan and went to work for them.”

  “What did they have him doing?”

  Wilkes said, “That’s where it gets interesting. For several years now, we’ve suspected that Pakistani intelligence is helping to run a substantial portion of the illicit drug trade in Afghanistan. Williams was already connected to many of the players in that business. But this was back in the early 2000s. The demand for opium—both the legal and illegal demand—was only a fraction of what it is today.”

  “The ISI saw an opportunity.”

  “Exactly. The ISI knew the benefit that type of business could have for them. Behind the scenes, the ISI runs Pakistan. Taking over Afghanistan’s heroin trade allows them enormous power and international influence.”

  Renee shook her head. “How?”

  Max said, “Think about it. If Pakistan controls the economy of their neighbor Afghanistan, they own that country. And all that cash is off the books, so they can do whatever they want with it. Influence elections. Buy policy. Pay for black ops. That’s why so many intelligence agencies around the world sometimes deal with narcotics traffickers. It’s the darker side of the intel business.”

  Renee said, “The US doesn’t do that, do they?”

  Wilkes smiled. “We use taxpayer money to fund our black ops.”

  Polite laughter followed. Except for Renee, who looked slightly horrified.

  Wilkes said, “And it isn’t just influence in Pakistan. Remember, the trade routes for Afghan opium run through Iran, Turkey, India, and dozens of other nations. The more the ISI gets their hands in different international pots of money, the more power they have in those countries as well. The ISI wanted Ian Williams to help them grow the pie, and to make sure they got a huge piece to themselves.”

  Max tried to put it all together in his mind. “So what are you saying? That the ISI r
ecruited Williams to somehow spur on the global opium market? How?”

  “Pakistani influence could only go so far by itself. They needed men like Ian Williams. People with connections. Dark salesmen who wouldn’t mind stuffing a politician or businessman’s back pocket with illicit cash in exchange for a big favor.”

  “How did he do it?”

  “Back in the early 2000s, after the international coalition went in and collapsed the Taliban government, the United Kingdom was put in charge of the farming and drug policy in Afghanistan. Officially it was supposed to be run by their diplomats. But Ian Williams had huge sway with them, thanks to all his backroom deals throughout both Afghanistan and Pakistan. Between Williams and a group of other ISI agents, they were able to ensure that Afghan opium farming would grow rapidly. Maybe it wasn’t completely official, but there were winks and nods. And Williams and Syed didn’t stop there. Recognizing the huge growth opportunity in opium, they knew that they could expand to other markets. Other regions. And we think they got involved in the legal side of the marketplace as well.”

  Max frowned.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Then-congressman Herbert Becker first met Ian Williams in Afghanistan in 2002. Becker was on a diplomatic fact-finding mission. That same year, research came out that supported the use of narcotics like opioids to treat long-term pain. This was a new development. The research was paid for by Big Pharma. A year later, Becker voted on legislation deregulating the use of prescription opioids in the United States.”

  Max’s thoughts were a swirl of ideas and facts. “Are you trying to tell me that the ISI, along with a rogue British agent and a dirty US politician, intentionally orchestrated the opioid epidemic?”

  Renee said, “That seems far-fetched.”

  “I thought the same thing at first. But around this time, Becker made a lot of changes. He ran for Senate. He got a ton of money from outside contributors, many of whom had ties to the drug industry.”

  “That doesn’t mean he was working for the ISI. Every politician gets supported by some special interest.”

  “You’re right. But you have to ask yourself, how does Afghanistan end up producing ninety percent of the world’s heroin? That’s a multibillion-dollar operation. You always hear about the Colombian and Mexican drug cartels and how they operated like Fortune 500 companies, right? Guess what, the Afghans aren’t running their drug trade by themselves. There’s too much money in it. A business that size needs to plan the supply chain, distribution, sales. To seed demand among millions of customers…”

  “A conspiracy of this size would have to be huge.”

  Wilkes said, “You have no idea. Afghanistan makes a few billion dollars a year from their opioid farming operation. But the global market for illicit heroin is closer to fifty billion. Add in another fifty billion for legal opioids. Add in more money for all the treatment programs. For insurance companies. Tax dollars. Opioids are an economic juggernaut.”

  “And Afghanistan grows ninety percent of all of that?”

  “Not quite. They grow ninety percent of the illicit opium. The legal stuff is grown by licensed opium producers—mostly in Australia, Turkey, India, and France, and a few other countries. These are the suppliers for the pharmaceutical companies. But the illegal and legal opioid demand is related. They feed off each other.”

  Trent cleared his throat. “That’s how my brother got started. Josh used both. He got a prescription for pain meds. The prescription ran out, but he was hooked. Couldn’t stop. And it wasn’t like he was a weak guy or anything. Hell, he’d been to war.”

  Renee was making the same connection. “All the statistics I looked at online showed the trend of increased heroin use in the US following the increased use of legal opioids.”

  Wilkes nodded. “And that trend line began right after Becker met with Williams.”

  The group went silent for a moment.

  Trent said, “How is Senator Becker in on it?”

  “We don’t know that he is, exactly. Our intel suggests he may have been unaware of many details,” Wilkes replied. “Last night, using a device we provided, your father was able to record part of the conversation between Senator Becker and his daughter, Karen.”

  Charles pressed his lips together and nodded in acknowledgment.

  “What did they say?”

  Wilkes placed his cell phone down on the coffee table in front of him. He tapped a button, and a conversation began playing.

  Karen: “I think you should go back to the FBI.”

  Senator Becker: “I’ve spoken with them already.”

  Karen: “Dad…”

  Senator Becker: “We’ve had this discussion.”

  Karen: “I’m worried for you. I think it’s time for you to tell them everything.”

  Senator Becker: “Let’s not talk about it now.”

  Karen: “You made one mistake a long time ago. And that was listening to Ron and Jennifer. You shouldn’t have to pay for that forever.”

  Senator Becker: “I’m going to take care of it.”

  Karen: “No more deals with Ian.”

  Senator Becker: “I told you I’m done with him and I meant it.”

  Karen: “Are they here again?”

  Senator Becker: “Karen, I promise you. I have ended it once and for all.”

  Karen: “But Ron…”

  Senator Becker: “Ron kept going without my knowledge or approval.”

  Karen: “And they’re just…killing people? Now, after all this time? All for that stupid bill?”

  Senator Becker: “Yes.”

  Karen: “Why is it so important to them?”

  Senator Becker: “Money.”

  Karen: “Can’t you just drop the bill or change your vote or something? Give them what they want?”

  Senator Becker: “I could. But my career would be over, and they would have won. And our problem wouldn’t end there. They would still own me.”

  Karen: “So what are you going to do?”

  Senator Becker: “I don’t want to say. I don’t want you knowing any more than you have to. But they won’t have anything on me after this week. Trust me, Karen.”

  Karen: “Fine. But if you run into trouble, you go right back to the FBI, Dad. Alright? No matter what happens, it’s not worth getting killed for.”

  The recording ended and Wilkes picked up his phone.

  Renee said, “So the senator knows Ian Williams?”

  “Yes,” Wilkes confessed.

  Max was confused. “If they were once collaborating, why would the ISI be trying to kill Becker now?”

  “Becker has changed his stance on a policy that’s making them billions.”

  “Okay, but why? Don’t politicians usually want to make the guys bankrolling them happy?”

  Charles said, “May I offer a thought? In business, joint ventures often end when one party no longer needs the other. Perhaps the senator benefited from the ISI’s support for a time, but now he has outgrown his britches? He has excellent name recognition and a host of donors. His eye is on the big election in a few years. He’s had to make a strategic choice to part ways with some of his original fundraisers.”

  Renee said, “How is it even possible that foreign government agents gave him money?”

  Max said, “Unfortunately, there are several ways to do it.”

  Charles said, “He’s right. Although it is easier to do in smaller quantities. That could be another reason Becker is no longer interested in accepting money from this source. Foreign nationals wouldn’t be able to give him a big enough contribution to matter in the presidential election. Not without the risk of getting caught. Those sums of money are too high. But in state races…that wouldn’t have been a problem.”

  “Too big for his britches…”

  “This assumes Becker knew about it all. He claims only his aide knew about recent contact with the foreign investors. And he knew nothing about the foreigners being tied to the ISI.”

&nb
sp; Max said, “Why would the ISI kill Dahlman and Dicks?”

  Wilkes shrugged. “Perhaps they decided those sources were no longer of value.”

  “Why?”

  “Becker wasn’t playing ball. If you’re a foreign intelligence service and one of your key agents stops producing for you, what do you do?”

  “Try to get them producing again.”

  “And if that doesn’t work?”

  “Get rid of any evidence that can lead back to me, and put the network to sleep.”

  Wilkes nodded. “Some agencies have a more permanent view of what that means than others. As Renee pointed out, Upton traveled to Afghanistan with Becker. So did Ron Dicks. Senator Becker, in his conversation with his daughter, revealed that he knew an Ian. Let us assume that is our Ian Williams. It is quite possible that Ian Williams still has a connection to Jennifer Upton, who was—according to Rojas—on the cartel’s kill list.” Wilkes sighed. “Maybe the ISI wants to get rid of a rogue agent? Maybe Becker has been ignorant of ninety-nine percent of all of this, and they’re just pissed off that he isn’t playing ball? Either way, it certainly looks like Senator Becker is in danger. And he knows this better than anyone.”

  “He has protection?”

  “The Capitol Police has given him round-the-clock security, even outside of D.C.”

  “What are the Capitol Police going to do in Wisconsin?” asked Trent.

  “It’s their responsibility to protect members of Congress. They’ve coordinated with local law enforcement. It’s the Oshkosh police who are providing the senator with a protective detail. You’ll see plainclothes officers here with the senator.”

  “How many?”

  “Two to four, depending on the time of day. I also have a few of my men keeping an eye on him, but our team here is small. And I have to provide at least one body to the safe house. But I’ve also reached out to the FBI and notified them that there may be a threat to the senator while he’s here. They have over a dozen plainclothes agents who will be close to the senator for the duration of his stay at the air show.”