by J C Ryan
Getting into the spirit of the makeover, Carter made various suggestions about how he could affect a limp and therefore enhance the disguise. Greta took the time to instruct him on why his suggestion was good but only to a degree.
“How good an actor are you?” Greta asked. “It’s true that people’s gait is as unique as their fingerprints. But be careful. An exaggerated limp will draw more attention to you. The key to hiding in plain sight is to be invisible, in the sense that you don’t stand out in any way. A limp that changes in severity will also draw attention. I wouldn’t do it if I were you.”
Carter looked at his stunning redhead and frowned. “How the heck are you going to make her invisible? She turns every man’s head when we go out.”
Mackenzie took a playful swipe at him. “Silly.”
“No, I’m not just giving you a compliment. I’m serious.”
Greta shook her head. “First, we have to do something with her hair.”
“You’re not going to color it!” Carter exclaimed with mock horror. “That’s what knocked me off my feet the first time I saw her. I’m a sucker for red hair!”
“Let me just set the record straight. You were the one who remained standing after that collision. I’m the one who got knocked off my feet—literally.” Mackenzie grinned.
“No. We’re going to give her a weave that will look natural and mute the color with gray. We’ll actually have to do the same with yours. Then, I think for Mackenzie, we’re going to have to give her something that will make people look away.”
Greta rummaged in her bag and came out with a realistic-looking silicon burn scar. She first applied a layer of latex film to Mackenzie’s face and neck and plucked at it as it dried to form the wrinkles that would foil the newest skin texture recognition software. She then applied the silicon scar to Mackenzie’s neck and over her jawline to just under her left eye and blurred the edges with heavy foundation.
“There. People tend to look away quickly when they see something like this. Children won’t, though. They’re likely to ask in a loud voice what happened to you. It also won’t fool skin texture recognition in an ideal way. The software will recognize it’s makeup—it just won’t be able to see underneath.
“That’s why you’ll wear these prosthetics in your mouths whenever you go out, to help change the shape of your faces.” She handed them silicon pads to wear between their teeth and gums. “This also won’t work for long. If I had more time, I could make it impossible, but this is the best I can do in the time we have.”
“I’ll do my best to stay away from children,” Mackenzie quipped with heavy sarcasm and a lisp caused by the pads in her mouth. “Especially my own. It would scare them to death.”
“Probably not, unless you let them watch horror movies,” Greta said. “Children are curious but accepting.”
Sean spoke up. “We hope this will be unnecessary, but this will mean you’re prepared if we have to run. By the way, we bought you some clothes and er—”
“Underwear,” Greta supplied. “Serviceable, but not fashionable, I’m afraid.”
“As long as it fits,” Mackenzie sighed.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Greta, who had caught on with their jibing, said with a feigned serious face, “Sean never looked at that note with your sizes.”
“With friends like Greta, I don’t need enemies,” Sean growled.
Chapter 33 - The result of the analysis
March 16 evening
Sean dropped Greta off at her home on the way back to Langley and regretfully declined her invitation to stay and have dinner. “They’re in trouble, Greta. I’ve got to get the evidence to clear them ASAP.”
“I understand. Are you certain of their innocence?”
“As certain as I am of my own,” he returned.
“That’s good enough for me,” she answered. Patting him on the cheek, she breathed, “If only I were twenty years younger.”
Sean was still grinning about Greta’s unambiguous flirtation when he drove away. But he wouldn’t tell Sam about it. She might think it was funny, but there was no reason to risk that she wouldn’t.
Bill met him at the gates and escorted him back to the lab, where the forensic experts were waiting to brief them both on their findings. They’d barely walked in the door when the team leader met them with a strong handshake.
“You were right. Those recordings at the bank and the phone conversations are fake.”
“No doubt?”
“Under oath, as a scientist, I’d have to say about ninety-five percent certainty. Off the record? One hundred percent. It was a damn good fake, but that wasn’t Carter Devereux.”
He went over it all with them, showed them the anomalies on the film, and the differences in the voiceprint images. “If you’re already convinced of the subject’s guilt, your brain can easily play tricks on you and ignore the obvious. But anyone with an open mind will see—it’s not the same guy.”
“Okay, thanks. And good work!” Bill said. He took possession of the records and directed the experts to forget they’d seen anything unless and until they were called to testify at a trial.
Although he looked happy, his mind was in turmoil, chastising himself. I’ve been an idiot. I’ve allowed my judgment to be clouded—played right into the hands of the enemy. And in the process, I’ve almost destroyed the lives of two very good people.
To Sean, he said, “We need to put our heads together.”
After a hurried dinner at a chain restaurant, they met in Bill’s office to go over the evidence.
Bill asked Sean, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Nabateans,” Sean answered.
“Not a doubt. Mathieu Nabati could fake those banking records with one hand tied behind his back. Between his contacts in the Swiss banking system and their advanced technology, it would be child’s play.”
“But the phone conversations. It says here” —Sean pointed to the analysis the forensics experts had given them— “these are almost certainly NSA recordings, but they’ve been modified. How did the Nabateans get such deep access to NSA records?”
“Their quantum computers. Remember, that’s exactly what it said in those documents on Algosaibi’s laptop and flash drive. They can break into any computer network on the planet. No encryption can stop them.”
“Shit! Bill, can you imagine what information these people have. And it is as easy as that; the NSA collects it for them, and they copy it. Information about… well… everyone and everything… secret, private, you name it… politicians, leaders, terrorists across the globe. These guys have access to more information than our own government.”
“Horrifying, isn’t it? But let’s park that for a moment. There’s no question the Nabateans have the technology to manufacture this evidence. Our key to their back door may be Kelly White and how she got her hands on it,” Bill said.
“Yeah. The Devereuxs and I have asked that same question a thousand times in the last two days. And what’s her stake in it? Is she just an unsuspecting pawn of the Nabateans, or is she in on it?”
“We need to take a closer look at her to figure that out,” Bill responded.
“Carter had an idea, which I think is worth investigating,” Sean said, snapping his fingers as he remembered. “He pointed out we’ve got two sets of leaked information.
“The most damning, to them, the Devereuxs, is the false evidence right here. We’re all morally certain that came from the Nabateans.
“The most damaging to us, CIA, A-Echelon, and the President, is the stuff that’s true. The information that came out of the A-Codex itself, and…” He hesitated to say it.
“Spit it out, Sean, before I wring your neck,” Bill growled.
“…the National Security Council,” Sean finished. He waited for the explosion.
“Son of a bitch!” Bill yelled as the realization struck him like a flash of lightning. “We’ve got a traitor in the NSC!”
“That’s
what Carter thinks, and he makes a convincing argument. He still wants to know if there’s any way to read information from the mass storage devices without taking them out of the metal boxes. In fact, we need to close off all speculation that someone could have taken the info from your vaults or that there’s a mole on Freydís,” Sean said.
“The team on its way to Freydís first thing in the morning will look at the possibility of a leak from that quarters. But I’m not waiting for them. Who knows what damage can be done in the meantime? I’m going to dig up every secret of every member of the NSC since they were old enough to walk and talk. We’ll find the traitor.”
“Wait, Bill. That could destroy your career. Wait for the analysis of the storage devices, please!”
“If this SNAFU doesn’t take me down before then, I’m out of a job next January anyway. Politicians have the luxury of plausible deniability. I get judged by what I was supposed to know and what I did about it.”
Sean shook his head. “It’s domestic, Bill. Not your purview.”
“The Nabateans aren’t domestic. The sons of bitches are global. I’m sick of these assholes, and I’m going to take them down—with me. Like Samson, in the book of Judges in the Bible. He ripped the pillars of the temple out, which collapsed the building and killed all the damn Philistines with him.”
Before Sean could argue further, Bill summoned the IT forensics experts to the lab. While they waited, he sent Sean to the office anteroom and called in several of his top operators and ordered deep, and highly illegal, surveillance on every member of the National Security Council.
Sean watched the operators emerging one after the other from Bill’s office with dubious expressions.
When that was done, Sean accompanied Bill back to the forensics lab where they briefed the IT experts. Bill told them who he was sending to Freydís and what they were to investigate.
“Have I left any base uncovered?” he asked, glaring at the experts.
The team lead, accustomed to Bill’s leadership style, was the only one to answer. “No, sir. They should be able to give you the answers.”
As they left, Bill said to Sean, “I can’t believe this shit happened on my watch. Whatever we find out, I’m going to tender my resignation to President Grant.”
“Get your head out of your ass, Bill,” Sean admonished. “You’ll first have to help us get Carter and Mackenzie off the hook. They’re counting on us. That’ll only be the first battle in the war. After that we need to sort these Nabateans out. Only when that’s done can you resign—if you still want to.”
“Yeah, and if I’m still alive and free to do so,” Bill added.
Chapter 34 - The Freydís mop-up
March 17 early morning
Dylan was awakened by the insistent buzz of his secured satellite phone on his nightstand. He came alert immediately and snatched up the offending device to view the time. 4:20 a.m. What the hell?
Swiping the screen to answer, he jerked the phone to his ear. “This better be good.”
“Dylan, it’s David Longley. I’m on approach to your airfield with orders. Meet me there in ten minutes.”
“What the hell, Longley? I have no notice of orders. It’s going to take me longer than ten minutes. You’ll be met by my men.”
Dylan punched the End Call icon with rather more force than required.
“Who was that?” Liu asked with a very sleepy voice.
“David Longley. He’s about to land at the airfield and wants to meet me.”
Liu was fully awake now sitting up. “Is there trouble, Dylan?”
“I don’t know, Liu. But don’t worry. If it was serious, Sean would have let me know. Why don’t you go back to sleep? I’ll go and find out what’s going on and let you know.”
“Mmm… good idea.” Liu yawned and slipped back under the blankets.
He turned on his bedside lamp and reached for his pants. He took the time to get a cup of coffee. Wonderful inventions, these one-cup instant brewers.
At 4:40 a.m., Dylan sauntered across the tarmac after parking his electric cart. Four of his men with weapons pointed down but at the ready, accompanied by five wolves, surrounded a plane, an Alenia C-27J Spartan of the United States Special Operations Command, with David Longley and six men and two women standing outside. He expected their feathers to be ruffled, but they were standing very still and not arguing with his men. The fact that Longley and company didn’t have their hands up in the air or were on their faces on the ground gave Dylan the idea that the exchanges so far had been reasonably friendly.
Maybe part of the reason for the visitors’ calm behavior was the fact that Mackenzie’s wolves were part of the welcoming committee.
When he was within range, David Longley stretched out his hand. “Dylan. Good to see you, man.” He sounded relieved.
Dylan ignored the hand. “What’s this about?”
“Like I said, orders. It’s all in the letter. Basically, you’re to turn Freydís over to me and get to DC. Sean needs you there.”
Dylan gave him a level stare. He looked at the others, who hadn’t spoken, and pointed at them with his chin. “Who are they?”
“Dylan, just read the letter, okay?” David held it out.
Dylan took it but didn’t open it. “Wait here.”
He went back to his cart, located his satellite phone, and called Sean, well aware it was a breach of their agreement not to use electronic communications.
When Sean answered, Dylan asked, “Do you know who this is?”
“Yes. Keep it brief.”
“Package arrived. What do you want me to do with it?”
Sean took his turn to look at the time on his bedside clock. The mop-up team must be on Freydís. He replied, “Instructions included.”
“You want me to open the package?”
“Yes. Follow instructions.”
Now Dylan knew the orders were legitimate. Miffed that Sean hadn’t given him earlier warning that someone was coming, he answered in a word. “Roger.” He disconnected the call and opened the letter.
As he read it, he wished he’d taken the opportunity to lace his coffee with something stronger. He was indeed to hand over the EA operations to David, which wasn’t as easy as it sounded. His men didn’t know David that well. He was a former Delta Force operator. A crippling knee injury, requiring a knee replacement, forced him to work behind a desk. He was the head of EA’s administrative and logistics unit.
Dylan could only hope it would be a smooth transition.
It also wasn’t going to be easy for the staff to accept the next order, but he recognized it had to be done. He and David together would explain that part. He sighed. No time like the present, despite the early hour. He went back and stuck out his hand toward David. “Sorry about that. Had to be sure.”
David nodded and accepted the proffered handshake. “No worries. Shall we get started?”
“Might as well.” Dylan started with the four who were still guarding the forensics team. “Stand down. These folks are here to make sure there aren’t any unfriendlies lurking among us.
“David here is going to take over my duties for a while so I can go help Sean keep Carter and Mackenzie safe. You guys get back to camp and round up the men so I can introduce them to their new commander. While you do that, I’m going to get things started with the translation staff.”
He turned to David. “That okay with you?” His question signaled his men it was real, and they headed back for camp at a trot, the wolves in tow. Dylan watched them go.
“This is a tight unit. Well-trained, highly capable. They won’t give you any trouble. When I get back, they better be just as tight as they are now.”
David grinned. “Gotcha. Just hope those wolves will accept me as well.”
“They will, as long as you treat their handlers and them well.” Dylan grinned.
With that, Dylan signaled to David and his entourage to follow him.
David joined him at the lead. “W
e got here a little early, didn’t we?”
Dylan nodded. “You did. I guess it makes sense. No one up yet, you get the advantage of surprise. But they’re going to be worried because this early means bad news.”
“Maybe not all bad,” David said. “We expect to be able to clear them all. That’s what Sean was willing to bet on.”
“Let’s hope so,” Dylan said, rolling his eyes. “If you find a rat, it’s going to be bad.”
Together, they entered the dormitory and gently woke the residents—the translation team. Then they went to Carter and Mackenzie’s home and woke Mackenzie’s parents, who had moved over from their own place to take care of the children while Carter and Mackenzie were away. Dylan asked them to call Ray Anderson, Mackenzie’s brother, and everyone else, including Liu, to meet them in the conference room at the translation center. Mackenzie’s mother, Mary, started to object she needed to stay with the children.
“We’ll take them with us,” interrupted Mackenzie’s dad, Steven, who could see it was important to comply. “Don’t worry; they won’t even wake up.”
He was right about Beth, who slept soundly on his shoulder on the way to the translation center. Liam was a different story. He was already awake and dressed when they went to his bedroom. His grandfather shushed him when he started to ask what adventure was beginning now. “Don’t wake Beth,” he admonished. Liam made a show of closing his mouth and followed eagerly.
Dylan and David strode ahead a little way. “Are Carter and Mackenzie all right?” Dylan asked when he was sure Liam couldn’t hear them.
“As safe as they can be. You’re supposed to read the letters from them, one to the staff and one to the family.” He pulled the letters from his pocket and handed them over. A small hand slipped into Dylan’s other hand as he reached for the letters.
