REMAINS OF THE DAY
The clock struck seven as Noble returned to his office. Fortunately, Doris had left for the day. The last thing he needed was the twenty questions that usually followed his visit to the Oval Office. The conversation with the president, still casting about in his mind, was all the intrusion he could tolerate. For the next hour, he leaned back in his chair disinterested in his surroundings. He focused entirely on the Dead Zone—and the Presidential Lair.
Finally, with a clearer head, Noble sat upright. The pivotal moment had arrived. He had no choice; he had to protect the Lair. He had to immerse himself fully in hunting down Simon. He had to stop Simon from executing his plot. What plot? He grimaced. The president was correct. I have no firm idea, he confessed to himself. Shaking his head in utter frustration, he began to sort through the stack of notes his secretary had left for him. He then checked the messages on his voicemail. And, after ignoring most of the messages, he proceeded to place a few crucial calls.
“Colonel Evans, please. This is SIA Director Bishop.”
“One moment, Director,” answered an unfamiliar voice.
“Ah, Director Bishop, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Colonel, I will be instructing Deputy Director Ford to send the entire squad of feds home except for Agent Burke. In the meantime, I want you to pull all troops back and assign the 1st Special Forces B Team to work on the case exclusively!” Noble was aware that the B Team, made up of thirteen outstanding men, was in training at Dugway preparing for a special overseas mission.
Colonel Evans agreed, believing it would provide the perfect training opportunity. “As you are aware, they are not only experts in reconnaissance, nocturnal operations, and combat, but also in demolition and forensics.” Without a pause, his voice shifted, sounding a tad crustier. “Excuse me, Director, you’re asking me to assign some of our finest to the mission. Do you even know what or who we are supposed to be looking for?”
Noble ignored the Colonel’s insinuation and stated directly, “This mission is top-secret, sanctioned by the president.”
“Yes, Director, I understand,” the Colonel responded, quickly changing his tune. “You can count on us.”
Noble informed the base commander of the pertinent events, limited only to his suspicions. He felt it served no purpose for the moment to delve into the connection to Simon. He chose only to focus on the death of a federal agent on federal land. “We are looking for an underground bunker that is being used as a terrorist recruitment and training facility. We believe the building your soldiers discovered is an indoctrination center and is connected to a larger portion of the encampment by a tunnel system. We believe those responsible for killing Agent Darrow are hiding out somewhere in another part of the complex, planning their escape.”
Noble then reported to the Colonel that a special surveillance camera would arrive at the base on Monday, at which point Deputy Director Ford would provide him with further instructions. “I will also need the use of an Apache helicopter and your best pilot,” he requested, and then again reminded the Colonel of the importance of maintaining the utmost secrecy. Noble paused briefly to let the Colonel absorb the details of the mission. Then, in an effort to change the thrust of the conversation, he offered his personal condolences for the loss of the two soldiers.
The Colonel continued to maintain a cordial manner. “I appreciate that, sir. I’m just thankful that Max, I mean Deputy Director Ford, and Agent Burke were spared.”
“You can call her Max, if she lets you get away with it,” Noble quipped. Then relapsing into his more serious tone, he requested, “Please follow Deputy Director Ford’s directives regarding the investigation, unofficially known as Operation NOMIS.” Noble knew he had to protect the Lair at all costs and affirmed, “The location of the bunker must not be disclosed. Please destroy any documentation you may have compiled making reference to the facility. Those orders come from the president.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Thank you again, Colonel. I’ll be in touch.” Noble ended the call.
“Ciao fratello. Where have you been hiding out?” Paolo prodded with curiosity.
“On the second floor of the West Wing,” Noble joked.
“Well, I am honored that you finally took the time to return my call. Although, I presume you’re only calling to check in on Natalie and Mario.”
“Paolo, I’m sorry, but this is not a social call. I need to see you in my office tomorrow morning at nine.” Noble tried not to make it sound like a command.
“Come on, it’s Saturday. Can’t we talk over a few beers at the Blackfinn Saloon? Besides, Kansas State is playing against Baylor tomorrow.”
“Seriously, Paolo, this is important. Nine o’clock.” Softening his tone, he remarked, “And, of course, I want to know how you’re all doing. We’ll catch up tomorrow. Give them a kiss for me.”
“A domani” Paolo signed off, sounding irritated.
That went well, Noble thought. Now let’s see how Amanda handles it.
“Hi Sweetheart.”
“Noble, I’ve been texting you for the last hour. If you’re calling from the White House, you have less than thirty minutes to get home, freshen up, and pick me up at my place before we have to leave for the concert,” Amanda chided. She didn’t intend to, but she confessed to herself that she sounded like a wife.
Concert, dammit. Noble had forgotten completely.
“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to sound like a-you-know-what,” she admitted apologetically.
“Amanda, I’m sorry. It has been a horrendous day and, quite honestly, I forgot about the concert. In fact, I was calling to tell you that I have to work this weekend and then I’m leaving on Monday. I will be out of town for a few days.” He knew it was best to lay it out in its entirety and accept the consequences.
Silence was Amanda’s response.
“Now it’s my turn. Are you okay?” he asked caringly.
“I know your work will always take priority. It’s just difficult sometimes to accept the demands it places on you.” She paused, and then changed the subject, not wanting to prolong the inevitable. “Adam seemed extremely pleased with the outcome of your meeting.”
Noble was somewhat dubious. “What did he say exactly?”
“He said nothing specific about what you discussed, only that you would present his case to the president.”
Relieved, Noble reminded her, “There is no guarantee the president will act. All I can do is lay out the facts.”
“Adam understands, and is thoroughly grateful.”
Noble was pleased to hear Amanda sounding more like herself until he heard, “Won’t you have any time at all this weekend?”
“Let’s play it by ear. I have a meeting tomorrow morning, and then I will be pouring over forensic evidence on a case. I need to be fully prepared before I leave on Monday. Perhaps I’ll have some time Sunday evening. I’ll give you a call.”
“I miss you, Noble, but I recognize it goes with the territory.”
“Thank you for understanding. I love you, Amanda.”
“I love you, too. Goodnight.”
Noble truly felt horrible. He could have made the concert had he not been emotionally spent. And he still had one more call to make. Then, he would head home and attempt to get a restful night’s sleep.
“Noble, where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for the last hour.” Max prodded irritably.
“I was in with the president.”
“The president! What’s up?” Forgetting her ire, she was eager to know.
“In a minute. First, how are you feeling?”
“Lucky. The head wound wasn’t that serious. It just bled a lot. Aside from a gigantic headache, I’ll be just fine.”
“Thank God. Max, where are you now?”
“I am in my quarters on the base. Why?”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes. And remember, you also called me on my secure line. What
’s with all the cloak and dagger speak?”
“We just need to be extremely cautious while we try to figure out this case. Max, we can’t take any chances. There are so many complex dynamics to this puzzle. I honestly don’t know how it all fits together,” he confessed.
Max detected from the other end of the line that the investigation was irking Noble. She suspected that he was becoming obsessed with capturing Simon. She also recognized it wasn’t an ordinary case for the legendary Director Bishop.
“Max, what about the flash drive?”
“I just found it about an hour ago. You can’t believe the number of boxes of debris we had to sort through to locate it.”
“What was on the disk?”
“Hold on, boss. Right now I’m waiting for a converter to be delivered. Every piece of equipment on this base is state-of-the-art and there’s not a USB connector to be had anywhere.”
Years earlier, data storage had migrated to online data centers, known as Clouds. There was no longer a need for hard drives, DVD drives, or USB’s, the universal serial bus connectors, to transmit and store data.
“You can thank the North Koreans for creating the impetus to further our technology,” Noble mocked.
Max was aware that the transformation to Cloud computing had escalated after 2009 when a North Korean went on a three-day hacking spree and broke into, not only the White House computer system, but also the Pentagon and the New York Stock Exchange. The State Department and Homeland Security Web sites had disappeared temporarily. While there was no attempt to steal or damage the data, clearly it was a trial balloon. By 2015, all U.S. computers connected wirelessly to storage networks, with all data stored on a cloud.
“Thankfully, the U.S. Government systems had their data tightly secured on a government owned satellite,” Max noted.
Noble didn’t respond.
“Noble, are you still there?”
“I was just marveling at Simon’s penchant for using such an outdated device.”
“He’s the ultimate techie. Why wouldn’t he want to store his data on a secure cloud?” she questioned.
“Even though cloud storage is mandatory, it really wouldn’t make any difference to Simon. I doubt he cares one way or the other about the Data Protection Act of 2014.”
Naturally, both Noble and Max were up-to-date on the act that required all information, both public and private, to be stored on an online data storage facility of the owner’s choice. Citing public safety, the Data Protection Act was similar to the federally mandated Digital Transition and Public Safety Act of 2005. Even though it did not go into full effect until February of 2009, the act forced households to switch from analog to digital television for the sole purpose of receiving emergency broadcasts. Because of this shift in data storage, by 2015, manufacturers were no longer producing in-home storage devices of any kind.
Noble recalled a time when there were desktops with hard drives. Now there were only tablets with touch-screens, synched, when necessary, to a Bluetooth keyboard. Moreover, the only internal storage maintained by these devices was the absolute minimum, enough to manage the operating system and basic application software.
Max had an uncanny ability to sense when Noble’s mind was churning, even when they were miles apart. It was time for her to draw him back to the question at hand. “Noble, do you think Simon intentionally left the flash drive in the indoctrination center in an effort to string you along?”
Noble readjusted in his chair and responded, “Simon doesn’t make mistakes, which is why we can’t fully trust whatever information is on the drive. Keep that in mind when you review the data. Now, did you uncover any evidence from within the facility?”
“Recovering any fingerprints may be impossible. There is at least an inch of dust from the explosion covering everything. The forensic team is still trying to piece together paper from the shredder, but we did discover various training manuals.” Max’s voice became quiet and low for the first time. “Noble, you were right. It was an indoctrination center. What’s strange is that all of the furnishings and equipment are military issue. I haven’t had an opportunity to talk to the operations officer in charge of inventory to see if anything is missing.” Max explained that many of the boxes contained mostly manuals primarily geared toward basic tactical maneuvers, rifle marksmanship, engagement skills, situational training exercises, etcetera. “I should have more for you by tomorrow,”
“What’s happening with the tunnel?”
“They are still digging. They managed to plod through a quarter mile of debris, but there’s no light at the end so far. By the way, did you send me my other IMAC?”
“No, I’ll bring it to you on Monday.”
Somewhat surprised, she questioned, “You’re finally coming out to Utah?”
Ignoring her question he continued, “I just had a conversation with Colonel Evans. He’s prepared to take orders directly from you, offering his full support.”
“Thanks, Noble, but what aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m tightening up the mission, which we will now refer to as Operation NOMIS. I ordered the Colonel to pull back all soldiers and replace them with a team of Special Forces. I want you to send the feds home except for Agent Burke. Tell them the orders come from the president.”
“Do they?”
“Sort of.” Noble then skirted further discussion on the subject and tried to seem nonchalant. Without telling Max the specific details regarding his conversation with the president, he told her that he received confirmation that an underground facility did exist somewhere in the Dead Zone. “Once we locate the encampment and retrieve all the evidence, it will then be permanently sealed, and its whereabouts will be expunged from any records.” With a more jocular air, he said, “After all, we wouldn’t want another terrorist cell to come up with the same idea.”
Max, obviously curious as to Noble’s change in strategy, chose to leave any further inquiry on the matter for a more appropriate time. Serenely, she requested, “What other steps do you want me to take?”
Maintaining his stride, Noble stated affirmatively, “Just hold the fort until Monday. Tomorrow morning, I’m meeting with Paolo. You remember he was Baari’s communications director. I have a strange feeling that without him actually being aware, he may be able to provide some of the pieces of the puzzle. In the meantime, start analyzing the data on the flash drive.”
“It’s not a problem. Just tell me what I can do.”
Noble proceeded to inform her about his video conference with Enzo and that the evidence did point to Simon, including the London bomb’s beryllium components. He told her about the WAASP and that he believed it would be able to determine the exact location of the bunker. “I will be arriving at the base on Monday afternoon around one thirty. If the WAASP arrives before I do, have it installed on the Apache helicopter that the Colonel will have standing by.”
“Will they know what to do with it?”
“They are familiar with the Carabas, and its functionality is similar, but improved. In my conversation with the Colonel, he also assured me that he would have his best pilot handle the surveillance. As soon as they set it up on the helicopter, I want you to program the WAASP to transmit all photos directly to the SIA Cloud. I already set up a folder on our server named NOMIS, requiring a separate password. I’ll text you the password as soon as I hang up.”
Naturally, Max had access to the SIA database. Now, only she and Noble would have access to the data in the NOMIS folder. Noble wanted to ensure that they had the only photos of what he knew to be—the Presidential Lair.
“I assume the WAASP has a touch-screen that will allow me to connect with our satellite?” Max inquired.
“Yes, Enzo confirmed it is quite straightforward,” he assured her. “Max, remember the WAASP is a top-secret prototype that we’re not supposed to know about. Limit any discussion as to its source. And, as soon as we get the surveillance tapes, you need to return the WAASP to Enzo immedi
ately, but not before you erase the WEP connection and password linking it to our Cloud.” Noble cautioned. “It is only on loan briefly, and under strict conditions.”
“I understand. Anything else, boss?”
“I kept my conversation with the Colonel brief, but I want you to speak with him and ask if he’s ever noticed any activity around Desert Mountain.”
“Isn’t that near where Agent Darrow’s body was discovered? In the middle of the Dead Zone?”
“Precisely. It’s possible he saw something or followed someone there and he wasn’t cleverly placed in that location by Simon after all,” he admitted.
“Then it could have just been a brutal quirk of fate on the agent’s part.”
“Max, back to Desert Mountain. We are looking for any possible entrance into or under the mountain. There should be a substantive opening allowing for the delivery of equipment and provisions.”
“Got it.”
“Also, have the newly assigned team of Special Forces survey along the Brush and Weis Highways and the Jericho Callao Road, in the area surrounding the Dead Zone. They need to look for anything that resembles a ventilation system, something that would project out of the ground.”
“You think that’s how they are getting their air supply?”
“Yes, and it can also be rigged to serve as an escape route as well”
“I’m impressed, Noble. You’ve been doing your homework,” she kidded.
If only Max knew where I get my information, Noble mused as he grinned.
“Max, if they find anything that looks like an escape hatch, post a guard around the clock. Make sure no one goes in, and they are to detain anyone coming out.” Noble gave Max a moment to make mental notes. Then, he vowed, “If Simon is down there, he will not get away this time.” He swore to himself as much as to Max. Then, feeling a wave of exhaustion, he surrendered. “Goodnight, Max.”
“Night.” As Max was about to complete her sentence, the line went dead. “Noble, get some sleep, was all I was going to say.”
22
THE SCORNED
It was an overcast day and Hank was thankful to be sitting inside at his favorite table in the Solar Café. As he sipped away at his steaming cup of black coffee, he watched a woman walk through Franklin Park and cross I Street. She was clenching her coat collar tightly around her neck. A scarf covered her head. What appeared to be a final attempt at camouflage was a pair of dark sunglasses, but it was fruitless. It was no disguise for an experienced operator like Hank. He knew from her stature and the cadence of her walk that it was the former first lady, Maryann Townsend Baari. Besides, the Secret Service agents posted behind the various trees were a dead giveaway—maybe not to the public’s eye—but to Hank’s trained eye it was routine, having witnessed the scene many times.
Noble's Quest Page 16
