“Why am I not surprised?”
I sat down at the desk and powered up the laptop. “What I’m about to show you isn’t exactly a whodunit, but it is a little mysterious.”
The startup screen appeared, and Nikki pulled a chair over and sat down beside me.
However, before I opened up Zachary’s file, I looked over at her and said, “Okay, Nikki, full disclosure. Your security clearance means I can show you Top-Secret information now, but part of the reason the Agency classifies intel as Top-Secret is because the methods used to extract that information might be considered illegal, especially in other countries. If you aren’t comfortable with that, you should tell me now.”
“That’s not a problem for me. As long as I didn’t obtain the information illegally, I’m okay with it.”
I nodded. “Good, then let me give you some background. Five years ago, the Agency hired a contractor through the Southridge Services Group to translate some Arabic documents for us in Karbala, Iraq. The contractor’s name was Jacob Levin. He was a joint hire with the Defense Intelligence Agency because he’d been the project manager on a DARPA team that developed a drone detection device.
“Levin wanted to do the field testing himself, so he quit his job at the Pentagon and went to work for SSG. That testing took place in a remote desert region east of Karbala. Not long after his arrival, Levin went missing, and the Agency recently received intel that puts him in Yemen. If the—”
“I doubt if I could locate Yemen on a map.”
“It’s never been a very hospitable place, and right now, it’s a hotbed of terrorism. I assure you, you wouldn’t want to go there for a vacation. It’s on the Arabian Peninsula, south of Saudi Arabia and adjacent to the Horn of Africa, just across the Gulf of Aden from Somalia.”
“Rough neighborhood.”
I nodded. “Although nothing’s been approved, more than likely, an operation will be conducted to find out what Mr. Levin’s been up to for the past five years. Douglas will be in charge of that operation once it’s approved. Right now, though, he’s asked me to check out a guy who was working with Levin in Iraq at the time he disappeared.”
“Is that the reason we’re here in Springfield?”
“That’s right. The guy’s name is Travis Zachary.”
I touched the keyboard on the laptop and opened up Zachary’s personnel record from SSG.
After Nikki leaned over and studied the grainy photograph of Zachary, she scanned through the information about him. “It says he was the security officer for the MODD system in Karbala. What’s the MODD system?”
“That’s the drone detection device Levin was testing. MODD is short for Mobile Onsite Detection Device. Zachary was in charge of providing security for Levin’s team, along with making sure the testing site was secure. I was told Zachary was the last person to talk to Levin before he disappeared.”
Nikki leaned back in her chair and gestured at the screen. “I’m sure the SSG people questioned him about Levin’s disappearance. Didn’t the Agency or the DIA do that as well?”
“Yes. Zachary was interrogated by us and also a couple of officers from the DIA, but those interviews were official inquiries during a time when Zachary was still employed by SSG.”
“Are you thinking he might tell you something different now that he’s no longer with SSG?”
“That’s one possibility, but he also might talk more freely if he thought adding a few details to his prior report would help him get hired by the Southridge group again.”
I reached inside my shirt pocket and pulled out the business card with Jared Russell’s name on it.
“I plan to introduce myself as a recruiter for SSG. Zachary is the owner of Elite Systems, which provides security for commercial establishments, but evidently, he’s not very happy with his job. He’s been talking to his friends about going back to work for SSG again.”
When I showed Nikki the card, she looked amused. “Jared, huh? I can’t really see you as a Jared. You may have a hard time selling that story.”
“Believe me. I can be a Jared.” I slipped the card back inside my pocket. “What about you? What name would you like to use?”
She stared at me for a couple of seconds. “Are you kidding? You want me to go with you when you talk to this guy?”
“Why not? You’re still on leave from the NPD until Monday, and I know from personal experience you’re an excellent interrogator.”
She smiled. “I am an FBI-trained investigator now.”
“There you go. I’d say that makes you qualified to be . . . hmmm, let’s see . . . at least my assistant.”
She was not amused.
* * * *
After Nikki had read through the transcript of an interview the CIA had conducted with Zachary about Jacob Levin’s disappearance, she started quizzing me about some of the answers he’d given during the interview.
She was particularly concerned about one answer.
“Zachary said Levin took a Saudi delegation out to the testing site to demonstrate what the MODD system could do. I thought the MODD system was some super-secret project. Wouldn’t showing it to the Saudis have been unusual, not to mention prohibited?”
“No, not really. The Defense Department regularly disseminates information about new military hardware to our allies, and although this isn’t my area of expertise, I imagine they publicize where the equipment is being field tested. I’ve heard the Saudis have been updating their military defenses and are in the market for new technologies, so their interest in the MODD system wouldn’t have been unusual.”
“But surely someone from the Pentagon would have had to give Levin permission to show the Saudis the capabilities of the MODD system.”
“No, that would have been up to SSG, the contracting agency. Jacob Levin was working for them, not the Pentagon.”
Nikki nodded. “Okay. I get the picture now. But I don’t believe the Saudis could have actually purchased the MODD system without getting Congressional approval. Don’t all foreign military sales have to go through Congress first?”
“You’re right about that, and I imagine that was at least one of the reasons the Saudis were eager to see a demonstration of the drone detection device while it was still being tested. They wanted to get a jump on seeking Congressional approval.”
“So, according to Zachary, once they saw a demonstration of its capabilities, they contacted SSG and asked that Jacob Levin be allowed to travel to Riyadh and make a formal presentation of the MODD system to the Saudi Defense Ministry.”
“That’s right, but did you happen to notice this?”
I pointed to a sentence in the transcript.
“Zachary claimed he felt uncomfortable when he heard Jacob would be flying to the Saudi capital without him.”
“Since Jacob disappeared on his way to the airport, I’m curious why Zachary didn’t want him to make the trip to Riyadh in the first place.”
“I’m curious about that too. Let’s go ask him about it.”
Chapter 4
Zachary’s security firm, Elite Systems, was located in the Green Acres Shopping Center on the west side of Springfield.
Before leaving Langley, I’d considered calling his office and making an appointment to see him. However, a notation in Zachary’s file indicated he usually ate his evening meal at the Chinese restaurant next door to his office, so I told Nikki I’d prefer to observe him in that setting before meeting him in his office.
As I parked the Range Rover outside the China King Buffet, Nikki asked, “What’s the source of the surveillance reports on Zachary?”
“They originated with the Agency. Since they’re dated less than a month ago, I presume the DDO authorized the Ops Center to send a surveillance team to Springfield to see what he’s been up to.”
Nikki glanced around the parking lot. “Is that an ongoing surveillance operation?”
“No, Douglas wouldn’t have asked me to drop in on Zachary if his surveillance team was s
till in the area.”
“Does that mean he doesn’t want anyone at the Agency to know you’re doing him a favor?”
“Possibly, although I’m not certain about that.”
Nikki unstrapped her seatbelt. “That surprises me. I just assumed the two of you had a very close relationship, especially since he allows you to stay at his house in Fairfax.”
I looked over at the China King Buffet where an older couple had stopped to read the menu posted on the front door.
“I wouldn’t describe our relationship that way. I’m not saying it’s adversarial; it’s not. Complicated might be a better word for it. We respect each other, but at the same time, we both have boundaries. When we cross those boundaries—which both of us occasionally do—things get a little hairy.”
“I get that. My captain and I—”
“There’s Zachary,” I said, nodding my head in the direction of the restaurant.
“Are you sure? He didn’t look that heavy in his photograph.”
“That picture of him is at least five years old. I’d say dining at the China King every night hasn’t done his waistline any good.”
* * * *
We waited until Zachary had followed the older couple inside the restaurant before we got out of the SUV and crossed the street.
When we opened the door and entered the China King Buffet, a set of tiny brass bells on the doorknob announced our arrival. Seconds later, a hostess hurried over and welcomed us to the establishment.
She gestured at the dining area and told us we could be seated anywhere, so I directed Nikki over to a corner booth, which gave us an unobstructed view of the buffet’s numerous steam tables.
I counted five of them.
According to my calculations—if the restaurant’s advertising could be believed—there could be as many as twenty different items available on each buffet table.
I watched as Travis Zachary approached one of the steam tables with an empty plate. After circling around the table from left to right—peering into each stainless-steel chafing dish as if he weren’t already familiar with its contents—he started at the left side again and took generous portions of each item.
Once his plate was full, he sat down in a booth about twenty feet away from us. His actions made me wonder if he only ate from one buffet table every night, or if he filled his plate from each table every night. If it were the latter, it wasn’t hard to understand why he’d put on a few pounds.
Zachary was a dark-complected man with close-cropped black hair and a flat broad face. I had no trouble seeing him as a bodyguard.
He was broad-shouldered, had thick forearms, and wore a loose, untucked shirt, which served to hide his paunch, as well as his sidearm.
When he picked up his fork, he glanced around the room, his eyes lingering briefly on each patron. After years of security work, this type of behavior was probably second nature to him, although I would have been surprised if he thought anyone in the restaurant was a serious threat to him.
He gave Nikki and me a cursory glance, but a few seconds later, while taking a drink of his iced tea, his gaze returned to our table.
Or rather, to Nikki in particular.
“You have an admirer in the room,” I told Nikki. “Someone besides me, of course.”
“I saw that too, but it might not be what you think it is. There are some people who can smell a cop a mile away.”
“You really think that’s it?”
“Maybe. Let me know what happens when I walk over to the buffet table behind him.”
After the waitress brought us our drinks and two dinner plates, Nikki headed toward the steam table nearest Zachary.
I didn’t immediately follow her.
Instead, I stayed behind and pretended to talk on my cell phone while keeping my eye on Zachary.
As Nikki walked past him, Zachary’s head swiveled in her direction, but seconds later, he was giving his full attention to his food.
“Well?” Nikki said, when she returned to the table. “Was I right?”
“It’s hard to say. The results were mixed.”
“I still think it’s the cop thing,” she said, dousing her food with soy sauce.
“I expect we’ll know more after we talk to him.”
She pointed her fork at my empty plate. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“In a minute. I want to see if Mr. Zachary goes for a second helping.”
“Why?”
“Because,” I said, sliding out of the booth when the waitress handed Zachary a clean plate, “I plan to ask him to join us.”
* * * *
I followed Zachary over to a buffet table, where there was an assortment of fried foods, including fried wonton, fried chicken, fried egg rolls, and fried shrimp. If that wasn’t enough, the selection also included fried biscuits and fried green beans.
This time, Zachary didn’t spend his time perusing the various dishes. Instead, he picked up a pair of tongs and went for the fried chicken.
Before he could make his selection, I placed my hand on his shoulder and said, “Mr. Zachary?”
He immediately dropped the tongs and jerked around. “Yeah, that’s me.”
I offered him my hand. “I’m Jared Russell.”
He transferred his plate to his left hand and shook hands with me. “Do I know you?”
“I don’t think we’ve ever met. I was planning on dropping by your office after grabbing a bite to eat, but when you sat down over there, I thought I recognized you from your picture in our files. I work for the Southridge group.”
The moment I mentioned SSG, Zachary’s irritated facial expression morphed into an I’m-a-pleasant-kind-of-guy-who-works-well-with-people type of smile.
“Well, Mr. Russell, I’d be happy to talk with you. Would you like to go to my office now? It’s right next door.”
“No, no. Let’s finish our meal first. In fact, why don’t you join us?” I pointed across the room. “That’s my assistant, Nikki Saxon, sitting over there in the corner booth.”
Earlier, Nikki had said she wasn’t comfortable with using a false name, and since she didn’t have any ID to back it up, I’d agreed it might be better for her to use her real name. That way, if Zachary asked to see some identification, she could show him her driver’s license.
Although I didn’t say anything to Nikki, I’d be surprised if Zachary didn’t ask to see some type of identification. He wouldn’t be much of a security guy if he didn’t.
He smiled. “To be truthful, I noticed her as soon as I sat down.”
I gestured at one of the other buffet tables. “I’ll go grab some vegetables and meet you at our table.”
He picked up his plate and pointed at the fried chicken. “I think I’ll just stick with the good stuff.”
* * * *
I arrived back at our table before Zachary did, and I used the opportunity to tell Nikki that Zachary would be joining us.
“I told him we were planning to visit him in his office once we’d finished our meal. Running into him here was unexpected.”
“Got it,” she said, as Zachary approached our table.
I sat down next to Nikki, and Zachary slid into the bench on the opposite side. The moment he was seated, I introduced Nikki.
“My assistant, Nikki Saxon.”
He nodded at her. “Travis Zachary, but I’m sure you know that.”
She smiled at him. “I thought I recognized you from your picture.”
He took a bite of fried chicken and said, “I’ve worked for Southridge on and off for several years, but I’ve never run into either one of you before. What department are you in?”
“Human Resources,” I said. “I’m not surprised we’ve never met. I’m a recruiter, so I’m out on the road most of the time, and Nikki has only been with us for a couple of years.”
He looked over at Nikki and then back at me. “I hope you’re not offended, but I’d like to see some ID before we go any further.”
 
; I smiled and addressed Nikki. “I guess Mr. Zachary passed his first test.”
She nodded. “I’d say so.”
I reached inside my jacket and pulled out my business card from SSG. “Will this do, Mr. Zachary?”
“You can call me Travis,” he said, taking the card.
After looking at it for a few seconds, he said, “This looks official, but anyone can duplicate a business card.”
“How difficult would it be to duplicate this?” I asked, pulling a folded sheet of paper out of my pocket and sliding it across the table.
He slowly unfolded the document.
After skimming through the page from his SSG employment history—which I’d printed off in the hotel’s business center—he pushed it aside and said, “Okay, you’ve convinced me you work for SSG. Are you here to recruit me?”
“Would you be interested if we were?”
“Maybe. It all depends on the job.”
I looked around the room. “It’s classified, so obviously, we can’t discuss it here, but if you’re interested, I’d like to talk to you about a job opening for a security officer that’s just come up. We’ll need to do it in a more secure location, though.”
He began rapidly shoveling food in his mouth. “When we’re finished here, we can walk over to my office. I definitely want to hear what you have to say.”
The feeling was mutual.
* * * *
Zachary’s office at Elite Systems was unimpressive. In fact, the whole setup, which consisted of a reception area, his office, and a storeroom, was so depressing, I could easily understand why he might be eager to leave the whole thing behind and head out for parts unknown.
When we stepped inside his office, he directed Nikki and me over to two plastic guest chairs, and then he walked around his desk and sat down in his leather office chair.
“Tell me about this opportunity,” Zachary said, picking up a large paperclip. “I’m assuming it’s in the Middle East. I guess you know that’s my area of expertise.”
I nodded. “Before I go into the details of the assignment, catch me up on what you’ve been doing since you left SSG.”
Five Years in Yemen Page 3