“I figured you two didn’t keep in touch. Have you been following your doppelgänger in New York?”
“Huh? What doppelgänger?”
“I read a couple different internet stories about her, she was written up in People magazine too. Here, have a look at your pictures side by side. I saved it on my phone cuz I was blown away by the similarities. Maybe she’s your long-lost sister.”
They stop the horses so David can scroll through his phone and find the picture. Amanda leans toward him to check it out while he holds it over towards her.
“Wow, she’s like my body double!”
“She’s been ushered through lines outside a couple of the hottest clubs in New York because everyone assumes she’s you.”
“Good for her. It would be fun to meet her, you know, maybe get her to come to D.C. We could dress exactly the same and put it on Instagram. I haven’t put anything up on the charity Facebook page in a while either. It could be fun, and maybe we’d raise some money for Healing Heroes too.”
“People are still so curious about you, you’d crash the internet. But you’re under FBI protection, did you forget about that?”
“Don’t be such a killjoy. We can figure something out.”
Chapter 23
A Weakness
Agent Forsyth drops a file folder on Solarez' desk. "Your guy Franklin’s got some interesting, uh, hobbies going on for a supposedly reputable married attorney with kids.”
"What are you talking about?"
"Well let's see. First, he’s having an affair with a paralegal. Guess where she works."
"The FBI?"
"No, Andy Michaels’ law firm."
"Are you kidding?"
"I wouldn't do that, sir. The pictures are in the file. He’s sleeping with a young attorney at his own firm too. One other thing: He’s been meeting with a guy who’s some kind of undercover investigator with a legit agency. I did a background check and his name is Ty Ryan. Former SEAL, worked on a number of special ops with the FBI and CIA.”
“So, Franklin’s covering as many angles as possible. Banging Michaels’ paralegal, and he’s got a SEAL who was held hostage and released after the Hemisphere’s plane crash digging up dirt for him. Now I can guess who leaked the story. But he hasn't filed any kinda lawsuit yet…not enough solid evidence maybe.” Solarez theorizes.
“Could be, but he met with Barbara Grofelt, the attorney who works with every wronged celebrity or A-lister. She represented several of the women who alleged Phil Lusby drugged and raped them, and Kelly Moore, who sued Wright News Group for sexual harassment. She knows how to work the publicity. Seems like every time I turn on Entertainment Universe she's talking about some celebrity she's representing.”
"If Franklin convinces Grofelt to join him in this RICO action, we’ll be on the front page of the tabloids for the foreseeable future.” We’ve gotta torch this guy, I mean make him feel excruciating pain. Legally of course, and nothing requiring a search warrant. We need to share these photos with his wife. And the mistresses. Get ‘em into their hands pronto. It might not stop him from filing this lawsuit, but having his personal life blown up might slow him down. What else? Is there something unethical he’s done that his law partners should know about? I need you to keep digging, and stay on him.”
Solarez glances at the glossy photos arrayed on his blotter.
"You can hang onto those, sir, I have another set. Shouldn’t take long to find more on this dirtbag.”
Chapter 24
The Spokes
The three of them are focused on the whiteboard on the wall inside a secured portion of the D.C. Chinese embassy. Red and black names and places. In the center there's a blue circle and inside is the English word "Franklin” in black. Then there are several black spokes heading outwards at different angles. One of the black spokes points to Ryan, and 180 degrees in the other direction a black spoke points to Angie Tipton. Two more spokes point to Merland and Bogofski/V.E.B.
Jiang stands at the whiteboard with a dry-erase marker in his hand, gesturing. Chun is a few feet back observing, and beside him stands Jang-Chung.
"According to all of our surveillance, Franklin is at the center of the leaks. First of all, there is someone working with him. His name is Ty Ryan. We really don't know if he's been planted there by the FBI. He was a U.S. SEAL, and we detained him to keep him from causing disturbances. He certainly doesn't think highly of us, but we treated him with respect and then released him.”
Jiang then taps his magic marker on Angie’s name. “Franklin appears to have a secret relationship with the paralegal at Andy Michaels' law firm. We are not sure if she purposely got involved with Franklin or if he enlisted her to try to get insider information on Michaels’ law firm.”
“Things get even more complicated. The law firm Franklin works for does extensive work for V.E.B., which is a Russian bank controlled by an oligarch; the principal is Bogofski. It seems to be a funnel for the Soviet Premier's skimmed-off funds. But we don't know if this has anything to do with the leaks. Although the Russians might be trying to embarrass us, we have found no direct connection between that bank and Franklin except the law firm does work for the bank.”
“Here’s where the trouble begins. Franklin has gone to Hemispheres Airways and is trying to convince them to join him in a lawsuit against the government and against Michael's law firm. He wants to sue over secret payments the United States made to Hemispheres Airways, which may expose the secret deal we made with the U.S.,” Jiang finishes.
"It looks to me like Franklin is being financed or pushed by one of these other players. I have trouble believing he would be able to mobilize all this by himself," Jang-Chung says.
"Don't be so sure," Jiang replies. "Franklin hates Michaels, and he was forced to settle all of the crash lawsuits, which obviously cost his law firm substantial sums of money. And basically reduced his own income too."
"Would his efforts to bring a lawsuit go forward even if he was unable to lead the effort?" Chun asks.
"That's a good question, the U.S. system is so unpredictable. I'm not sure if anyone would be as capable as Franklin. But I see your point. If he was not around to spearhead this..." Jiang ponders.
“Get 24/7 surveillance on this Ryan guy. And on Franklin. Keep watching the situation carefully, then we can make a decision." Jang-Chung says, and given his rank in the embassy hierarchy, Jang-Chung’s decision is the final say.
"Yes sir.”
Chapter 25
A Request
Ron Michaels had put in the request to leave Sherwood a month before the Disney Costume Parade, the biggest parade held in Annapolis, Maryland. It would be the first Disney event experienced by his young son Justin.
Dear Agent Solarez:
I am requesting leave, with FBI bodyguards, to attend the Annapolis Disney Day Costume Parade with my son. As you know, this is my first time asking for leave and I think it would be enriching for him to see it. We would attend the parade and return the same afternoon. I’m sure you can put together some kind of simple disguise for me, and we would have no intentional or meaningful contact with anyone. Please contact me with your decision as soon as possible.
Sincerely yours,
Ron Michaels
Solarez thinks it’s a reasonable request made far enough in advance, so he grants permission and arranges for plainclothes FBI agents to serve as escorts. Sure, this outing will involve some risk, but why would anyone attending a Disney parade suspect some guy watching the characters with his son is anything but a random dad?
Chapter 26
RICO
"Merland, the CEO of Hemispheres, called me. The attorney who represented them against the crash victims’ families, this guy Franklin, comes to his office and says he's got a plan. He wants to sue the government and Andy Michaels’ firm for fraud and concealment under the RICO statute. He tells Merland he’ll take the case on a contingency and only asked them to kick in part of the expenses. On top
of that, he's gone to their insurance carrier, the one that paid out millions in the settlement, and they’re interested as long as Hemispheres is in. I already filled in my director and he asked me to brief you ASAP.”
CIA Director Isaacson shifts in his chair and fiddles with the frame of his glasses as he contemplates Solarez’ news.
"We've got a problem, I agree, but I’m out of immediate answers. You?”
"If Hemispheres won't get involved—and we'll strongly encourage them not to—maybe the insurer won't either."
"Yeah, but here's another issue. We provided the money so their stockholders weren’t paying for it, but we never told the insurance company, which at the time made sense.”
"We can't exactly pull out our checkbook and write them a check now. It would confirm what most people currently think is simply a rumor.”
"Doesn’t look like we’re going to contain this easily. I don't know where Franklin got his inside information, but winning his case requires him to prove it. Are you with me so far? The court will want evidence of the payment to Hemispheres, creating a national security issue we can use to end this whole thing. Yeah, we’ll take the heat for it, but what other choice is there?”
"Assuming a judge agrees with us, we win. But what about the guaranteed PR disaster while this thing works its way through court? And while it may be the least of our concerns, we made a binding agreement with the Chinese government too. We can’t stop Franklin from filing it, however we do have some personal dirt that might slow him down a bit.” Solarez smirks.
“What’s that?”
“Photos showing he’s having an affair with Andy Michaels’ paralegal and a female attorney at his firm. His wife will not be happy when they anonymously find their way to her.”
“Nice. Wouldn’t want to be him when she receives them. Wait, do you thinkAndy Michaels’ paralegal is feeding inside information to him?”
“I would certainly hope not. Screwing your boss’s enemy is one thing, but pilfering classified information? That’s a whole different level. We can keep an eye on her if you want.”
“Alright. It would be a stretch to go to the FISA courts seeking a warrantless search because we think he might possess national security information obtained illegally. We need to have a serious talk with Andy Michaels, though. Since he and his law firm will also be named, they’ll surely try to make him talk. We can’t stop them from taking his deposition, can we?” Isaacson asks.
“I’m not sure. I’ll contact the DOJ. Stein can advise whether we can assert national security privilege on behalf of Andy Michaels also. I suppose he’ll need to retain a separate attorney?”
“Ask Stein about that too. What about the daughter? Is Franklin roping her into this?”
“No, he told Merland just Andy Michaels law firm and the government. But she’s in protective custody in case this suit is about more than a pissed-off lawyer who thinks we screwed him out of defending dozens of death cases. What a crock, right? Here we are protecting everybody from terrorism, and they’re trying to imply we sabotaged the jet.”
“Such is the world we live in,” Isaacson muses. “Find out whatever you can on Franklin without a warrant, preferably something we can use to convince him this suit is a very bad idea. Given that his possible reward is millions, it'll be a tough sell. And do more homework on the paralegal and the former SEAL. Maybe we can make one of them see things our way.”
Chapter 27
Bandaged
The lab manager walks toward Ron Michaels, who is removing several glass slides from an electron microscope, and hands him a note. He reads it, gets up, and rushes through the lab and out the sliding glass doors. Once across the courtyard, he flashes his I.D. and places his fingers over the detector to enter the nursery building. The young lady at the front desk recognizes him.
"I believe Justin's in the infirmary. Down the hall, next-to-the-last door on the right. Mrs. Kolfax is with him."
Ron trots down the hall and turns into the infirmary.
“One of the other kids unscrewed a loose screw holding up a wall on the pretend kitchen, and it fell down and hit Justin right below his left eye, on the cheekbone. Made a jagged cut."
Ron inspects Justin, who still has moisture around his eyes from crying and a long bandage on his cheek, which stopped the minor bleeding.
"Are you okay little buddy?”
Justin nods his head up and down.
"I think he's going to be fine.” Ron lifts the toddler up off the small chair and clutches him to his chest. Justin rests his head, bandage and all, in the nape of Ron's neck and holds onto him with his little arms.
"You’re alright, it’s okay." Ron lightly pats him on the back.
"Do you think he can go back to the nursery, or should I take him home?" Mrs. Kolfax asks.
"You can keep him here, he'll be fine."
They all stand and turn to walk out of the infirmary. Ron notices a small wipe with Justin's blood on it, which he discreetly sweeps off the table into his right lab coat pocket.
Chapter 28
Vwd
Ron stands at a counter with microscopes, various glass beakers, and test tubes aligned in their appropriate plastic racks. Using shiny stainless steel tweezers, he removes a very small piece of the bloody wipe and places it on a clear glass slide. He puts another slide on top and carries it down to one of the researchers in the lab.
"Run this for the composition of the blood plasma."
"Roger that, Dr. Michaels."
The next day the results are printed out and emailed over the encrypted intranet to Ron, whose eyes dart through every parameter of the various compositional elements of the blood.
As soon as he finishes reviewing the data, he leans his chair back and rubs his temples with two fingers on each hand. The results show Justin does not carry any characteristics for Von Willebrand disease, or VWD, a genetic blood disorder involving varying levels of hemophilia, excess bleeding. That explains why Justin's blood had coagulated normally and there were no used bandages, even though the cut was deep. But how could this be?
Upon Justin's birth, his blood characteristics were provided to Ron by the hospital. They clearly showed Justin was a carrier for VWD, which made sense medically and scientifically since he and his wife Rochelle both passed the trait down, first to Amanda and now to Justin. Amanda’s VWD had always been controllable, and with her telomere treatment, the attributes of the disease had been completely erased.
Ron contemplates how this current test could be incorrect.
Could it be the wipe was from a different child and it wasn't Justin's blood? Or his researcher returned a false negative?
Or, could it be that Justin is…not really Justin?
Chapter 29
Laptop
Ron Michaels arrives at his apartment within the Sherwood housing complex and changes out of his lab clothes into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. He flips open his laptop on the small desk adjacent the kitchen to catch up on the news.
As the computer screen brightens, the password and login request does not appear. Instead, the image pixelates into an opened email.
Important message about Justin
He quickly reads further:
Dr. Michaels: We have Justin. He is safe and doing fine. So long as you continue your research, your son will be unharmed. However, if we detect any change in your practices or data entry, you will never see your son again. We will know if you are complying. Do not report this email to anyone.
This message will be deleted in 30 seconds.
Ron leaps from his chair and stares at the laptop, his heart pounding and his mind whirling. He immediately scans the room looking for a surveillance camera. One could be hidden inside a book on the shelf or in some other unnoticeable place. A bug perhaps, or more than one? Is that possible in a secure government apartment? He glances back at the computer screen and sure enough, the email disappears, replaced by his homepage.
I was there when
Justin was born, he thinks, and we’ve both been in protective custody ever since. How could this happen? Think, think. As a surrogate, Odette did require her privacy, and she asked that only the delivery staff and doctor remain in the room during the actual birth. Ron's mind pulses as he tries to remember the first moment he saw his son. They cleaned up the baby and he was holding him within minutes. Within minutes? Did something happen in those first minutes?
No! This can't be!
Part 2
Chapter 30
Randi’s Help
Randi Middleton vigorously chews her gum while typing the report on her desktop, depressed knowing she has, what, three or four more after this one. As the only administrative assistant whose job it is to type and organize all the reporting for the dirty dozen team members, she keeps the balls in the air. The days approaching lab presentation day always suck. Trying to ignore the papers arrayed on both sides of her desk, she sighs and taps repetitively on her keyboard. Ron enjoys her irreverence and caustic sense of humor.
"Don't you have a Microsoft laptop, Randi?"
She barely glances at Ron, continuing her typing. "Yeah, why?"
"Do you have Excel? I don’t on my Mac."
“You know we can’t carry any of this top-secret work outta here, right?” She winks at him, the words heavy with sarcasm.
"Do you think I could borrow it just for tonight, to work on some spreadsheets?"
Randi looks at him quizzically. "I guess so. Lemme write down the password you’ll need.” She grabs a Post-it, picks up the computer from the right side of her desk, flips it open briefly, and scribbles the password on the little square of paper, which she sticks near the touchpad before closing the lid.
Targeting the Telomeres, A Thriller Page 8
