by J C Ryan
“This is about Mom and Dad, isn’t it, Dylan?” Liam asked. The tyke was too smart for his own good.
“I think so, sport. But David here says they’re okay. Can you be brave and help your little sister?”
“Dad says when he’s away, I’m the man of the family. I’ll take care of Beth,” Liam answered.
Just like his dad. He’s going to be as good a man as Carter someday. Dylan squeezed the boy’s hand.
As they passed the dormitory, one of Dylan’s men poked his head out the front door. “Breakfast will be ready in half an hour. Coffee’s on now.”
“Good thought. Bring in the coffee when it’s ready. Thanks for thinking of it,” David replied.
When they’d all assembled in the conference room, Dylan introduced David. “Folks, this is David Longley. He’s going to be the camp commander while I go to Washington to attend to some business. I hope you’ll all welcome him and give him all the courtesy and cooperation you would give me.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’ve been rousted at this time of the morning, and before I explain, let me assure you coffee is on the way.” He paused as a weak cheer went up from the group.
“I’m sure you’ve seen some of the news coming out of DC in the past couple of days. I have a letter from Carter and Mackenzie, and I’d like to read it to you.” He smiled at Liam, who’d left his side and gone to sit with his grandparents and sister.
“First, let me assure you, they’re okay.” He paused again as the audible sigh of relief interrupted him. Then he started reading:
“Dear Family and Staff,
We want you to know first and foremost that we have done nothing wrong. Please ignore any news that says otherwise.
Our friends in Washington, DC, are working to clear up this misunderstanding. The people who will ask you to give them full access to your work and personal computers, cell phones, and more are doing so at our request. Please give them full cooperation.
They will also be removing the A-Codex plates and all material concerning them for safekeeping.
That’s all we can say for now. Please try not to worry. We’ll explain everything as soon as we can.”
The buzz of conversation that started with the words “personal computers” was a dull roar by the time Dylan finished reading the letter. He held his hands up for quiet and noted with relief his men were circulating with trays of Styrofoam cups full of coffee.
“Is there anyone who doesn’t understand the request for full cooperation?” He looked around at the audience, watching for apprehension on any face. All he saw was confusion.
“All right. I’m told breakfast will be ready in the dormitory shortly. Let’s head over there and get out of the way of these good folks.” As the staff filed out, he asked the forensics experts if they needed anything else right then.
“No. We’ll need access to the personal devices, but we’ll start here. Thanks for keeping them calm.”
“It would have helped if I could tell them more. But Liam, Carter and Mackenzie’s son, was paying close attention, so I didn’t want to speculate.”
“For the record, there’s no way the information can be copied without leaving a trail. If there’s a breach, we’ll find it.”
Dylan nodded and left. If someone here leaked sensitive info… a traitor… wait, let me not even go there.
Before he served his own breakfast from the buffet spread, he circulated among the translation staff, Liu by his side, reassuring them Carter and Mackenzie really were safe, the forensics people would surely clear them of any wrongdoing, and the translation effort would likely continue soon.
The staff, in turn, kept their voices down as they talked to each other. They’d do their part and cooperate, even though they were worried sick about Carter and Mackenzie. A few flicked their eyes over to the family group, where Liam was helping his grandparents persuade Beth to eat something. They’d also conceal their worry from the little boy who was far too young to shoulder such a burden.
By evening, there wasn’t an electronic device of any description on Freydís that hadn’t been thoroughly vetted. The forensics team had confiscated every single one, assisted by the EA men searching every nook and cranny for hidden ones—there were none. Their diagnostics showed there were no breaches whatsoever from Freydís.
By six p.m., they’d left with Dylan accompanying them and the A-Codex plates secured. They’d assured everyone no one there was suspected of treason and they could all get back to work when they were ready.
To any observers, life on Freydís would go on as usual. The EA people would continue their training, and the translations would continue, albeit only on the E-Codex. The “milk” plane would come and go as always.
Dylan spent some time whispering in Liam’s ear that he was going to see Liam’s parents. Did he want to send them any message? In response, Liam put his arms around Dylan’s neck and came near to choking the life out of him.
“Give them that hug. It’s from Beth, too,” the little boy said. His young voice wavered, but he didn’t sob.
Dylan nodded and solemnly shook Liam’s hand. “I’ll give it to them, soldier, and tell them it’s from Beth, too.”
His last task before the plane lifted off the tarmac was to call Sean on the satellite phone again.
“On the way. No bogeys.”
“Thank God. See you soon.”
Chapter 35 - The gold fields of A-Echelon
March 17 7:00 p.m.
The clock was ticking on Bill’s seventy-two-hour deadline—thirty-one of those precious hours had already passed. Sean had accomplished a major breakthrough when he, with the help of the CIA forensics experts, established that the evidence against Carter was all a sham. Both he and Bill were now convinced the source of the leak had to be in the National Security Council.
Bill had already met with President Grant once to address the A-Echelon story, and he’d have another meeting in a few hours. Grant wanted a daily consultation with him to agree how to best deal with the questions flooding in from both houses of Congress, foreign countries, and his own Press Secretary, who was besieged by journalists and social media alike.
Bill knew he was going to face some serious retribution from the President, but it was premature to alert him about the covert mission with Sean.
First, they still needed to determine Kelly White’s role and decide what to do about it. More importantly, they had to determine which of the National Security Council members was the traitor and how the translation material from the A-Codex got leaked in such detail that the bad guys could use the science to build an antimatter bomb.
In addition, Carter and Mackenzie had to stay hidden and out of reach of Kelly White and the FBI for a few more days.
Bill’s team of special operators investigating, highly illegally, the members of the National Security Council were under orders to report every eight hours at a minimum, and if they found anything suspect, to report immediately.
Sean’s urging him to leave it to the FBI fell on deaf ears.
“That’s like setting the fox to watch the hens, Sean, and you know it. I’ll take the consequences.”
Just short of twenty-four hours from his first orders, Bill had the first report on Kelly White. Its contents caused him to raise his eyebrows. From the Oval Office meeting, a few days before, he already knew McCormick was assigned to the case. However, the fact that McCormick and White were sharing a bed was startling. Maybe a conflict of interest? Bill smelled collusion, and his olfactory sense was usually quite accurate.
He ordered the team who’d discovered this little gem to dig further, and for them it was almost too easy. Hunters seldom expect to become the hunted. Neither Kelly nor Russell practiced good field craft—why should they? They weren’t spooks. They were investigators. Consequently, their own security was slipshod.
***
The media, both traditional and internet based, hadn’t been silent during this time. It couldn’t have co
me at a worse time in the ebbs and tides of political news. An election year always brought a carnival atmosphere to the news, and this election year was no different.
In the rush to make a name for themselves, journalists, bloggers, and political pundits seized upon any story with the slimmest potential to cause controversy. Actors and musicians, artists and writers, indeed, anyone with a soapbox and a handful of followers felt duty-bound to regale those followers with their opinions, no matter how uninformed or misinformed.
Nothing was sacred. The private lives of the candidates, their spouses, and families were put under the spotlight. A tiny transgression became a nugget of gold, to be weighed, swapped, and put up for public view. In the already bloody political arena, easy access to social media and the millions addicted to it, believing that anything in writing must be true, every tidbit sparked a free-for-all feeding frenzy—it was like sharks tasting blood in the water.
The journalists, real and self-proclaimed, couldn’t believe their luck when the A-Echelon story broke. To have a story like this to investigate, speculate, report, and twist to their liking in the midst of all the political shenanigans already in progress was like the discovery of gold leading to the California Gold Rush.
This was the Gold Rush of journalism, and they descended upon the gold fields of A-Echelon like the forty-niners of old. All of them hoping A-Echelon would produce the mother lode.
Chapter 36 - We’ll talk about your future after
March 17 late evening
“Put us to work, Bill.”
Sean and Dylan reported to Bill the moment Dylan was wheels-down in Washington. They found him in his office, and to their relief, James and Irene were also there. Carter and Mackenzie were still in hiding in Severna Park—it was decided they would remain out of sight for a while longer.
“By some miracle, not even a whisper of Executive Advantage has hit the news. We’d like to keep it that way. We’ll have more freedom of movement without the damn journalists and paparazzi on our heels at every turn,” Sean continued.
“Agreed,” Bill said, nodding. He then brought Sean and Dylan up to speed. “James, Irene, and I were just discussing what we’ve discovered about Kelly White. You’re not going to believe it.”
As he revealed the cozy relationship Ms. White had with a top FBI official, Sean gave a low whistle. “We really need to know whether she’s just a pawn or in it up to her neck as a willing participant.”
“I’m going to get hold of General Jonas Fleming and ask him if he’s aware of this,” Bill said, looking at Sean. “I’ll brief him tonight, but I want you and Dylan to be there when Fleming questions his agent. I can’t go with you because then I’ll have to explain to the President what I was doing there. We’re not ready for that yet.
“INSCOM is independent of the other security agencies, but Jonas owes me a favor. I’ll make sure he cooperates.”
“Just say when,” Sean acknowledged.
“Yesterday,” Bill snapped, as he picked up his phone to make the late-night appointment.
***
March 18 early morning
Kelly White received the summons to General Fleming’s office first thing the next morning. Expecting to be praised for her breakthrough in the Patch Barracks case, she was puzzled when she arrived to find two men she didn’t know also in the general’s office.
Fleming invited her to sit down, but his tone immediately alerted her that praise wasn’t going to be forthcoming.
Her eyes flicked to the two strangers, who continued to stand until she seated herself and then took seats across the room from her and slightly closer to Fleming’s desk.
Something in the demeanor and the eyes of the two men gave her pause—special forces maybe? A tickle between her shoulder blades forewarned her to something wrong.
Fleming introduced Sean and Dylan, omitting their surnames and affiliation. Kelly’s trouble antenna went up a little further. Then the one called Sean began to speak.
“Special Agent White, we have some questions for you.”
She turned to Fleming, a question in her eyes.
“Please cooperate with these gentlemen, Kelly. Your career is on the line here.”
Now thoroughly spooked, she turned back to Sean. “Go ahead.”
“I believe you are sleeping with Russell McCormick, Assistant Director for Counterintelligence of the FBI. Is that correct?” Sean wasn’t known for his exemplary diplomatic skills.
Kelly felt affronted by the invasion of her privacy but was nervous enough by now to know she was in some kind of trouble. Despite her apprehension, she saw no reason to deny it. “Yes. What of it?”
“Where, when, and how did you meet him?” Sean fired.
She felt the anger rising. No one had spoken to her in that manner for a very long time. She was about to let out a profanity, which would have had something to do with sex and travel, when her better judgment prevailed.
“I… Let me think. I guess I met him in December? Yes, that’s it, at a Christmas party. Probably sometime in mid-December. Why?” The small frown between Kelly’s eyebrows deepened. Where is this going?
“And you began dating him immediately?” Dylan took up the tag-team questioning.
“Yes. Please! What is this about? Oh, Lord. Please don’t tell me he’s married.”
Sean took over again. “I wish it were that simple. No, not that we know of. Let’s move on. When did you start discussing your investigation of the Patch Barracks case with McCormick? Before or after you got Q Clearance.”
Kelly hesitated for just a moment too long. “Only after I got Q Clearance. He has the same clearance.”
Sean knew she was lying. But it didn’t matter much. “Q Clearance and top-secret clearances are compartmentalized. You know that?”
Kelly felt cold shivers running down her spine. She nodded silently.
“So, you understand what compartmentalized means, yet you spoke to him about the case. Why?”
“I… well… he had the same clearance, and he’s also counterintelligence. I… I… all this strange information… It was just too overwhelming, mindboggling… I needed someone to help me process all the information—I trust him.”
“And not your team,” Dylan stated.
“No, I trust… But later on, Russell was also assigned by the Director of the FBI to help me investigate. We thought we could help each other.”
“Yes, less than three days ago,” Sean retorted.
Kelly suddenly felt as if she’d forgotten to put on her clothes. She resisted an urge to cross her arms defensively over her chest and decided the best defense is to attack.
“You aren’t answering my questions. Am I suspected of some wrongdoing I’m unaware of? Is Russell? I won’t answer any more questions until you answer mine.”
General Fleming cleared his throat. “Kelly, I think you’d be better off cooperating with these gentlemen.”
Dylan, unfazed by her aggression, took over. “Where did you get your evidence against the Devereuxs?”
Kelly froze. Oh, no. The parcel. The letter. Could they have been bogus? “I… I received a package… anonymously,” she said slowly.
“The evidence… Russell helped me look at it, and—”
“Show us the results of the forensic verifications you ran on the evidence,” Sean demanded. He was sure she had none. He wanted to see if Kelly was going to lie about it.
“Russell… I… we… no, I didn’t.” Kelly’s face drained of all blood. She looked as if she had seen a ghost.
“No, you didn’t what?” Sean snapped.
“Do any forensic analysis… I’m… we’ve… ah...”
General Fleming was shaking his head and growled something, which sounded a lot like stupid bitch as he fixed Kelly with a flaming glower.
“Agent White” —Dylan had a murderous expression on his face— “let me just get this straight. You received a package with information from an anonymous source, right?”
She nodded.
“You looked at it with your boyfriend, McCormick, and decided there was no need to verify it, right?”
“Well, we… ah… I… thought…” She shook her head. “Yes, that’s correct. I’m—”
Sean interrupted in a soft and measured voice. “I did your job for you, White. My forensic experts say the documents, video, and audio files, the whole fuckin’ lot of it is fake—fabricated.”
General Fleming contemplated for a fleeting second reprimanding Sean for his language, but let it pass. He felt like ripping Kelly White’s throat out. His breathing had become burdened.
Of the four people in the room, it was only Dylan who knew what was about to happen when Sean started speaking like that. He’d better take over here, quickly. Kelly had to be kept alive to help them unravel this mess.
“Agent White,” Dylan started in as soft and gentle a tone as he could muster, “during your interview with the Devereuxs, did they ask for anyone else to be present?”
There was no more blood to drain out of her face. Kelly started to feel dizzy. She had no idea what these guys knew or not. It seemed like they knew it all. Including her brazen miscarriage of justice when she repeatedly refused the Devereuxs’ requests to have Irene, James, Bill, and the President present. She started shaking her head.
Sean pulled Kelly’s pen recorder out of his pocket and held it up without saying a word.
She immediately recognized it and changed the shaking of her head into a nodding motion. Her voice was an almost inaudible whisper when she spoke. “Yes, they did.”
Dylan said, “For the benefit of General Fleming here, who hasn’t had the opportunity to listen to the recording of your interview yet, would you want me to play it for him, or will you save us time and tell him?”
Kelly didn’t answer. She just stared at each of them in turn.
“Kelly?” the general prompted.
