“I think I’ll wait until I’ve actually talked to Jacob before I pass judgment on him.”
Frank looked at me like I’d suddenly sprouted wings.
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You seldom see the good in anybody. Aren’t you the guy who recently pulled a gun on me? In fact, you’re probably one of the most judgmental people I know.”
“I seriously doubt that, Frank, but, as I told you a few months ago, I’m a different person these days; or at least, I’m trying to be.”
He looked away for a moment. “Okay, maybe I am being too harsh on the scientist. Tell me what his friends said about him.”
“They described Jacob as someone who not only thinks out of the box, but as someone who was never in the box in the first place.”
“How does that explain his willingness to help the Saudis steal our technology?”
“I’m not sure it does. When it comes to Jacob Levin, there may not be any easy answers.”
Ben Mitchell suddenly appeared at our table. “Are you talking about Jacob Levin?”
* * * *
The fact that I’d been so engrossed in my conversation with Benson that I’d failed to notice Mitchell, when he’d entered the cafeteria, surprised me, but I wasn’t nearly as surprised by my inattentiveness as I was by Mitchell’s question.
I shook my head. “I think you’re mistaken, Ben. You must have heard us talking about Congressman Levin.”
“No, I definitely heard you say Jacob Levin.”
Mitchell extended his hand toward Frank. “Hi, I’m Ben Mitchell.”
“Frank Benson.”
After they shook hands, Mitchell turned to me and said, “I bet you were discussing Rebel Merchant, weren’t you?”
“What do you know about Rebel Merchant?” I asked.
“Practically nothing. Douglas just told me I’ve been assigned to the mission. I understand you’re the primary officer, but he said a DIA agent would also be on our operations team.”
Mitchell looked over at Frank and smiled. “I’m guessing that’s you.”
“No, I’m with the Bureau. You’re looking at one of those fiendish, diabolical feds Titus is always warning you about.”
Mitchell looked startled for a moment, but then he laughed and said, “You’re not wrong there.”
I said, “I thought you were meeting your tutor in the Language Center. You never said anything about having an appointment with Douglas.”
“That’s because I didn’t know I had an appointment with him. As it turned out, the reason I had to report to the Language Center was so I could take my final fluency exam. Once that was over with, Amad signed off on my certification, and then he told me Douglas wanted to see me.”
“You just came from Douglas’s office?”
He nodded. “He wanted me to know he’s assigned me to Rebel Merchant. He wouldn’t tell me anything about the operation except that it involves Jacob Levin, who’s evidently been living in Yemen for the past five years.” He paused. “Oh, yeah, he also said we’ll be leaving sometime next week, and our briefing will take place in a couple of days.”
“You’re in for a tough assignment,” Frank said, “especially since it’s your maiden voyage to the Middle East.”
“How would you know that?” Mitchell asked.
“Frank knows all about you,” I said. “When you were vacationing with the cartel in Cuba, he was back here at home helping us figure out where you were. I believe I told you the DDO assigned someone from the Bureau to help us locate you. That was Frank.”
Mitchell nodded. “Yeah, you did mention something about that.”
“Without Frank’s help, we might never have found you.”
Mitchell gave Frank his full attention. “Well, thanks, man. Are you also on the Rebel Merchant team?”
“No, I won’t be involved until you get Levin back to the States.”
“What happens then?”
Before Frank had a chance to answer, his cell phone vibrated, and after he hung up, he told us he had to leave.
“I’ll check in with you later,” I said.
When Frank stood up, he looked down at Mitchell and pointed over at me. “When the bullets start flying, you should listen to this guy. He’s right at least eighty percent of the time.”
Mitchell said, “It’s the other twenty percent I’m worried about.”
“Stay worried, kid. If you do, you’ll have a better chance of staying alive, especially since you’re headed to Yemen.”
* * * *
Once he’d walked away from the table, Mitchell asked me what Frank had meant about the FBI being involved in Rebel Merchant. Before I explained the role the Bureau would play in the operation, I quizzed him about what Carlton had told him about the operation.
Although he said Carlton had told him the President had given the operation a Top-Secret SAL classification, he wasn’t aware the Bureau would be responsible for fabricating the story Jacob would tell the public about what he’d been doing for the past five years.
“They better come up with a good cover story for Jacob,” Mitchell said. “You know the media will be all over Congressman Levin’s family if he decides to challenge the President for the party’s nomination.”
“We’ll let the Bureau worry about that. We’ll have our hands full carrying out the protocols and avoiding the politics of the mission.”
“Speaking of politics, have you heard my father is also thinking about putting himself in the race?”
“Is that a serious rumor?”
Mitchell shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. The Senator seldom confides in me about political matters. Of course, if I’m available, he encourages me to attend his political rallies.”
“If he decides to run, there’ll be plenty of those. You better hope you’re on assignment if that happens.”
“Oh, believe me, I will.” He shook his head. “I know that scene all too well. Just to keep him happy, I’ve gone with him to a few political events while I’ve been on leave.”
“Good for you.”
“Boring is the only word to describe most of them, although the times I’ve convinced Juliana to go with me, it hasn’t been all that bad.”
“Are you still seeing Juliana?”
He nodded. “She always keeps things interesting.”
So Juliana was not only seeing Benson, she was also keeping her options open with Mitchell.
“How are things between the two of you?” I asked.
He rocked his hand back and forth. “It’s hard to say. Sometimes she doesn’t seem to be that interested in me.”
“Maybe she’s just not that interested in political events.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s it. When I asked her to be my date for this big political shindig tomorrow night, she jumped at the chance. Of course, everyone who’s anyone in Washington will be there, so I’m not surprised she’s more than willing to go with me.”
“What’s the event?”
“It’s a gala honoring the recipient of the Capitol Hill Distinguished Service Award. It’s a black-tie event held every year at The Federalist Club.”
“When you say everyone will be there, are you speaking literally, as in most political office holders will be in attendance?”
He nodded. “Since no one knows who’ll be receiving the award until it’s announced, the ballroom will be full of members of Congress. Most of the people in the room will be there because their egos have convinced them they’ll be the person called up to the stage to receive the award.”
“Do you think you could get me an invitation?”
“Why would you want to go to a boring party like that?”
“Can’t you guess?”
He thought for a moment. “You want to meet Jacob Levin’s brother, Congressman Levin.”
Chapter 21
Mitchell assured me he didn’t think his father would have any problem getting me an invitation to the Service Award Gala, a
nd after he told me he’d call me when he knew something, I returned to the fourth floor to check in with Carlton.
No one was sitting at Sally Jo’s desk when I used my key card to enter his outer office.
Stephanie Ira, the DDO’s niece, must have thought the position of Assistant to the Division Head was a nine-to-five job. Since it was almost seven-thirty, I was guessing she’d left for the day.
That wasn’t Sally Jo’s work ethic.
I’d never seen her leave the office until after Carlton had walked out the door and was on his way to the parking lot.
Now, the door to Carlton’s inner office was slightly ajar, and when I walked over to it, I could see he’d positioned his armchair directly in front of his bookcases so he was able see through the crack in the door and identify anyone who entered the reception area.
The moment I tapped on the door, he said, “Titus, I’ve been expecting you. Come in.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve kept you waiting,” I said. “I would have been here sooner, but I ran into Ben Mitchell in the cafeteria.”
Carlton gestured over toward the sofa.
When I sat down, he said, “I’m sure Ben told you I’ve assigned him to the Rebel Merchant operation. I believe that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“If you think he’s ready.”
“He’s fluent in Arabic, his psych report looks good—the doc says there’s no lingering aftereffects of his kidnapping—and he’s anxious for an assignment. I’d say he’s ready.”
“How did your meeting with Dirk Andersen go? Were you able to work something out with him?”
“He’s agreed to have one of his DIA agents assigned to the operation. When I told him you thought Jeremy Taylor might be a good fit, he said he’d have to check with him first. He mentioned Jeremy has some family issues and might not want to leave the country right now.”
Carlton, who disliked discussing personal matters—except those involving me—looked uncomfortable for a moment.
“Do you know anything about his family issues?” I asked.
“Nothing except what I heard on the recording you made in your hotel room on Thanksgiving Day. Frankly, I’m not sure what to make of that conversation.”
He immediately changed the subject by reaching over and picking up a file from the coffee table in front of him. “I’ve been working on the protocols for the operation, but until I hear back from Dirk, I’m afraid I’m in a holding pattern. As of right now, it looks like your briefing won’t take place for several more days.”
“That’s what Ben said.”
“I apologize for taking you away from your family during the holidays. If the DDO hadn’t wanted you here for the interagency meeting today, I wouldn’t have brought you back to Langley until next week.”
“Why do you think he insisted I come to the meeting?”
“I believe you already know the answer to that question.”
I glanced over at his neatly organized bookshelves—where every book was perfectly aligned one with the other—and thought about his statement for a moment.
When I met his gaze once again, I said, “Yes, I suppose I do. I’m sure the DDO required my presence at the meeting because he wanted me to hear Sasha Gail say the operation would be closely monitored by the President, and I’m guessing he also wanted me to hear how everyone in the room had a different opinion about Jacob. The bottom line is, he wanted me there so I could understand the gravity of the situation and plan my actions accordingly.”
“In my opinion, that’s an accurate assessment.”
“There’s one thing I left out.”
“What’s that?”
“He also wanted me in the room so I could hear him tell Sasha Gail you’re the operations officer for the mission. He wanted me to know if I mess up, you’ll be blamed for the failure of Rebel Merchant. The blame won’t fall on Robert Ira.”
Carlton tossed the file folder on the coffee table and stood up.
“I agree with everything you’ve said, but you won’t mess up, Titus. This mission will not be a failure.”
* * * *
Carlton left the file folder containing the protocols for Rebel Merchant on the coffee table in front of me while he walked over to his desk.
Although the folder wasn’t open, one of the documents inside it had partially slipped out, exposing what appeared to be the Personal Data Sheet (PDS) on Mason Barron, the Agency’s chief of station in Saudi Arabia.
I couldn’t think of any reason why Carlton would have requested Barron’s PDS, unless he was to be our Agency contact in Yemen.
That was fine with me. I’d worked with Barron before.
During that mission, I’d noticed Carlton seemed to have an adversarial relationship with Barron—probably because he wasn’t the cautious type—but since Barron had left me alone to do my job without asking too many questions, I’d enjoyed working with him.
Of course, that might have been because Barron wasn’t the cautious type.
When Carlton returned to his seat and glanced down at the folder, he looked over at me and asked, “I suppose you saw Mason’s PDS?”
I nodded. “Seeing his PDS didn’t surprise me. Since our embassy in Yemen is closed, it makes sense for Mason to be our contact while we’re in country.”
“That decision hasn’t been made yet,” Carlton said, picking up the folder, “but we’ll definitely be using Mason to keep an eye on Stephen Gault when he’s in Riyadh.”
The travel arrangements Gault had received from Jacob in his encrypted email account called for him to have a two-day layover in Riyadh before boarding a flight to Aden and then on to Somahi.
When Carlton and I had talked about Gault’s itinerary on Friday, we’d discussed his two-day stay in Riyadh, and since our Agency analysts hadn’t been able to come up with any reason why he had the two-day layover, we’d both agreed he should be closely monitored while he was there.
As the Agency’s chief of station in Riyadh, Barron would be the person in charge of putting together the surveillance teams to monitor Gault’s activities during his stay in the Saudi capital.
“As long as Mason Barron is going to be briefed on the operation,” I said, “I wouldn’t mind having him as the mission’s field officer.”
Carlton looked unimpressed with my suggestion.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, handing me a key fob.
“What’s this?”
“You’ll find a Jeep Grand Cherokee parked over in the west parking lot next to the guard station. Since you have to stick around here for a few days, I checked it out of the motor pool for you.”
“Thanks,” I said, pocketing the key. “Will I be staying at one of the safe houses, or did Support Services make a hotel reservation for me?”
“There aren’t any safe houses available right now, but, if you’d like, you could stay out at The Meadows again. That is, unless you’d prefer to stay in a hotel.”
“No, of course not. As long as you don’t mind, I’d rather stay out at your place.”
He glanced down at his watch.
“I’ll let Millie know you’re coming. She and Arkady were planning to start decorating the house for Christmas today, so when you get out there, you may find them knee-deep in tinsel and lights.”
Millie and Arkady Orlov were Carlton’s live-in housekeepers at his country estate. However, Millie usually referred to herself as the house manager, and Arkady identified himself as the groundskeeper.
They were also part-time employees of the Agency.
Millie was a consultant on Korean politics—she’d been a Level 2 Agency employee at our embassy in Seoul in 1988 when Arkady, a citizen of the Soviet Union, had defected after winning an Olympic gold medal in weight lifting. Millie had been Arkady’s escort back to the States, and they’d been married six months later. Now, Arkady occasionally worked for the Agency as a Russian translator.
Carlton had asked them to come out to The Meadows and live there per
manently when Gladys had passed away. He’d never spoken to me about it, but, since Gladys loved the place so much, I suspected he couldn’t bear to sell it.
“I’ll try to stay out of Millie’s way.”
“As you probably know by now, if you’re in Millie’s way, she won’t hesitate to let you know it.”
* * * *
While Carlton was making the phone call out to The Meadows, I was having a debate with myself about whether to tell him about my plans to attend the Service Award Gala with Mitchell on Sunday night.
A few months ago, my failure to be entirely truthful with Carlton about my activities during an operation had caused a major rift in our relationship, so I was inclined to let him know I wanted to have a close, personal look at Congressman Levin before heading overseas to find his brother.
At the same time, I hesitated to say anything, because I was afraid he might give me several reasons—perhaps good reasons—why I shouldn’t even consider doing such a thing.
When Carlton got off the phone, he said, “Millie sounded like she was looking forward to seeing you. You must have figured out how to stay on her good side.”
I took his statement as some sort of sign and asked, “Do you know about the Service Award Gala at The Federalist Club tomorrow night?”
He looked puzzled. “Of course. Why?”
“When Ben told me he was going, I asked him to see if the Senator could get me an invitation.”
He gave me a long look. “You’re not exactly a social butterfly, so I have to assume you’re doing this for some other reason.”
“I admit I have an ulterior motive, but I—”
“It’s the Congressman, isn’t it?” Carlton said, looking pleased with himself. “Daniel Levin will be at the gala.”
I nodded.
He shook his head. “There’s no need for you to go to the gala to see the Congressman. You can find him all over the news these days.”
“I know what the man looks like. I just don’t have a sense of him yet. Evidently, Daniel and Jacob were close before Jacob’s disappearance, so, at the very least, I’d like to be in the same room with Daniel, check out his mannerisms, watch how he interacts with people, maybe pick up some tidbit I could use when I encounter his brother in a few days.”
Five Years in Yemen Page 19
