Truth in Hiding

by Matthew Frick

  Casey set down the empty mug and nodded. He stopped short of wiping his mouth on the blanket when Andie shoved a napkin in his face with the speed of a Bruce Lee counterpunch.

  “What? Your manners froze out there, too?”

  “Sorry,” Casey replied. He balled the used napkin up and put it in the mug. He fell back into the leather sofa and pulled the blanket around him again. “Where do I start?” he asked, more to himself than either of the other two people in the room.

  “How about the confrontation with Scott Parker,” Cohen said from the chair beside the couch.

  “It wasn’t exactly like I planned,” Casey said. He recounted the entire episode from first approaching Parker and his friend, to the attack by the two Qods men, to his abduction and interrogation. Andie and Cohen listened intently, never once interrupting the narrative. When Casey was finished, he looked expectantly at his audience until Cohen spoke up.

  “These Iranians were after Parker?”

  “Yes,” Casey said. “That was the impression I got.”

  “And the other man that was with Parker, the one you said seemed to take over the interrogation, what was his name?”

  “We weren’t properly introduced, but Parker called him Alan, or Aaron—no, Adam. His first name was Adam,” Casey said. “Parker said he was an Israeli diplomat.”

  “A diplomat,” Andie said with a pensive look.

  “From Israel,” Casey said, nodding. “That’s what Parker said, anyway. I didn’t ask to see his credentials.”

  Andie looked at Cohen. “You know any diplomats named Adam?” Cohen shook his head. “Well, it should be easy enough to check out.”

  “He knew who you were.”

  Cohen turned and caught Casey’s gaze. “How do you know that?”

  Casey almost wished he hadn’t said anything after the look Cohen gave him. “I sort of mentioned that you were the one who told me Raad was a spy.”

  Cohen pursed his lips and leaned forward. “Did you mention that Raad was a spy first, or did they already know?”

  “I mentioned it first,” Casey said. “But they already knew. At least that Adam guy did. I don’t think Parker cared one way or the other.”

  “He didn’t care there’s a known Iranian spy on American soil?” Andie asked.

  “I’m sure he cared,” Casey said, “but he seemed more interested in what I had to do with those Qods thugs trying to kill him.”

  “But you didn’t have anything to do with that,” Andie said.

  “I know that. You don’t think I told them that?” Casey looked directly at Cohen. “I told them about Raad’s source in The Council, but that only seemed to make Parker angry. That’s when Adam took over.”

  “Why did they let you go?”

  Casey lowered the blanket off his shoulders. “I don’t know. They were being nice?”

  “They left you in a parking lot without a jacket,” Andie said.

  “Yeah, but they put my wallet and keys back in my pants before they dropped me off,” Casey smiled.

  “Gimme a break, Casey. They almost killed you.”

  “But they didn’t.”

  “He’s right,” Cohen said. “They could have killed him, but they didn’t.”

  “They didn’t know he wouldn’t freeze to death,” Andie protested.

  Cohen shrugged.

  “It’s okay, Andie. If they wanted me dead, I would have died right in that room. But they dumped me at a metro station with money for a fare card. I only almost froze to death because I’m a moron.”

  Andie shook her head, giving up the argument. “You said Parker became more agitated whenever you mentioned The Council,” she said. “Was that because he didn’t want to talk about it, or because you knew too much about it?”

  “Both, I think. Parker is definitely a member, but he’s not the guy telling Raad about the operations. So we can scratch him off the list.”

  “That was your list,” Andie said. “Your boy here has a different list.”

  Casey looked at Cohen. “What list?”

  “Not a list, a suspect.”

  “Who?”

  “Your Congressman Shirazi.”

  Casey smiled and looked wide-eyed at Andie. “For real? You mean Cyrus Shirazi? From California?”

  Andie nodded.

  “Because he’s Iranian? Man, that’s kinda racist, don’t you think?” Casey shook his head. “After our trip to the Holocaust Museum and everything.”

  “His travels and family contacts make him suspect more so than his birthplace. I am not so quick to eliminate a possible target until I am sure he is innocent,” Cohen said. “On the other hand, you sound quite sure that Parker is not Raad’s source. Why?”

  Casey paused to get his thoughts in order. “I was going to say it’s because he never denied the accusation when I said Raad was a spy, and he was more interested in finding how I knew about The Council. But that’s missing the whole point of me being tied to that chair in the first place.”

  “Qods,” Cohen said.

  “Exactly. Why would the Iranians try to kill their source?”

  “Maybe they weren’t after Parker.”

  Both men looked at Andie.

  “Maybe Parker wasn’t their target,” Andie repeated, her reporter’s mind filling in where the analyst’s and assassin’s failed. “Maybe they were sent to kill Parker’s friend?”

  Chapter 30

  The room was deserted. Andie assured Casey and Cohen it would stay that way while they were there. Very few people visited the “Archives and Research” space in the basement of the Washington Times building on New York Ave NE, and certainly not outside of normal business hours.

  “I didn’t think people used desktop computers anymore,” Casey said, surveying the rows of stations that filled the center of the room.

  “They don’t,” Andie said. “That’s why this place is always empty. This stuff cost money, though, so management isn’t ready to just toss them. They still work, and they’re reasonably fast. This way, though, we can all work at the same time instead of you two looking over my shoulder backseat driving my laptop at home.” She pointed to a laminated paper taped to the desk where Casey sat down. “All the database sites the Times subscribes to and the passwords are right there.”

  Casey sat in front of one of the computers and scanned the list front and back. He recognized some of the sites as ones he used in his work at IWG, but there were many that were more useful to newspaper reporters than geopolitical forecasters. Andie and Cohen were setting up camp across the table as Casey asked, “So what are y’all looking into? I mean, so we don’t waste time searching for the same stuff?”

  “Lev is going to try and find any connection between Shirazi and Raad that we may have overlooked earlier,” Andie said. “And I’m going to look for anything on Israeli diplomats visiting or assigned to the U.S. in the past five years.”

  “Why five years?”

  “A place to start,” Andie said. “If this guy, ‘Adam,’ is really a diplomat, he probably hasn’t been in the country more than five years. Diplomatic assignments for most countries generally aren’t longer than three or four. And if he is visiting, I should be able to find a record of his having entered the country through the TSA or State Department records.”

  “Because of his passport.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Okay. Then what am I looking for?”

  “Think of anything you may have picked up during your interrogation that didn’t make sense or that you questioned,” Cohen said.

  “You mean besides why was I kidnapped, tied to a chair, and about to die?”

  “Unless you believe the answer to that question is important to our investigation,” Cohen said. “We already know your detention had to do with your presence at the location of the attack, but why were your interrogators so quick to accuse you of collusion with the attackers? What made them let you go? What did you say that changed their minds about your involvement? W
e talked about this briefly, but we need to find something that may answer those questions beyond mere conjecture.” He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, still focused on Casey. “And keep your emotions out of it.”

  Casey sat in silence and blinked several times. “You sound like Yoda.”

  Andie stopped typing and looked up, smiling. Cohen wasn’t in the mood.

  “I’m serious, Casey.”

  “I know. I’m sorry,” Casey said, also smiling. “Alright. I’ll see what I can think of.” He looked at Andie. “May the Force be with me.”

  Cohen ignored the quip and focused on the monitor in front of him. Andie went back to her own search, and Casey picked up the list of web addresses and passwords again.

  Casey looked at the monitor and keyboard with a blank stare. He brightened when he found a yellow legal pad and sort-of sharp pencil near the end of the table. He dragged the treasure over and picked up the pencil. Start with assumptions, I guess, he thought and began writing.

  ASSUMPTION: Iran wants Parker dead.

  WHY?: He’s the deputy national security advisor and Iran hates America

  *WHY?? Why Parker? (too risky)

  —because he’s part of The Council (true, but...)

  We already covered that, he thought. If Parker is Raad’s source in The Council, it doesn’t make sense for them to burn their own guy. He wiggled the pencil with his thumb and forefinger and let the words on the page in front of him blur. So, Parker isn’t Raad’s source, but he knows someone on The Council is, and the Qods hitmen were trying to keep him from finding out who. Casey smiled, thinking that might be the answer, but when he focused again on what he’d already written, two words stopped him from putting graphite to paper.

  too risky

  Casey thought about that. Too risky because he’s a government official? That’s not it. People are killed in D.C. just like any other major city in the country. For stupid shit. This city just happens to have a large population of government folks, so the chance some fed gets mugged is greater than in most places. That’s just math. Casey poked the eraser of the pencil repeatedly on his forehead, as if the gesture would free the answer from his tired brain.

  Something came loose.

  Andie was right. Those guys weren’t after Parker, they were after the other guy. They came through me and Parker like they were blitzing the quarterback and we were the offensive line. We were just in the way of the real target. Okay. So who is Adam? And what’s so important about him that a Qods hit squad was dispatched to take him out?

  Casey knew Andie was working on that piece. She was searching based on information he had given her, though neither of them knew how accurate it was. But what was Adam’s connection to Scott Parker? Andie’s PI friend said Parker was having dinner with “a friend,” he thought. It could be they became friends through work, but I don’t think members of the National Security Council routinely have friends who are foreign nationals. I guess they could, but it seems like it would be a security risk someone in Parker’s position would shy away from.

  The wheels in Casey’s head were turning as he tried to picture every interaction between the two that he had witnessed from leaving the restaurant, during the attack, and while he was being interrogated. Friends. Friends enough that Parker didn’t fight back when Adam dropped him for pointing a gun at me. That’s definitely more leeway than he would give a mere acquaintance. He thought of the conversation he overheard outside the office building in Rosslyn when he first saw Parker. From that initial observation, he concluded that Parker had a short fuse and a violent temper, but he let Adam get away with knocking him to the floor. Friends.

  Casey knew that until they actually figured out who Adam was, they wouldn’t be able to piece together a bio. But Parker was a known entity. His curriculum vitae should be public knowledge. Despite the Washington Times-provided resources, Casey went first to a simple Google search. The Wikipedia article for Parker was as good a place to start as any, and on the right side of the screen he found his first entry point into the deputy national security advisor’s past.

  Now Casey needed the newspaper’s paid help. He read through the list of databases and found what he wanted. In less than three minutes, Casey was staring at the senior-year picture of Scott Parker in a yearbook from Northwestern University. There was nothing spectacular or unusual about the photo. Parker looked as normal as the next guy. Under the picture was a list of activities Parker had been involved in during his undergraduate stint at the university. Student government. Not surprising. Opinion editor of the campus newspaper, The Daily Northwestern. Okay. Varsity lacrosse. Mildly interesting. Model United Nations.

  Casey scrolled to the index of the digital yearbook copy and found the page for Northwestern’s model UN club. There was information about the spring conference the organization hosted that year. Two pictures of students doing...model UN stuff. And a group picture of everyone in the club. The number of people required the photographer to take the shot from some distance away, and as a result, individual faces were hard to make out. Even with the list of names below the picture corresponding to each individual’s location in the photo, Casey found it hard to positively identify Parker. Zooming in only made things out of focus.

  Before he left the page, Casey leaned closer to the monitor and ran a finger across the list of names. Nothing. Until he reached the last line after the words “not pictured.” Sarah Folsom. Adam Miller. Edward Wilson. Adam Miller, Casey thought, silently mouthing the name. He moved through the pages quickly, looking for the individual photos again. He slowed when he reached the M’s. On the second page, his eyes grew wide. “Adam Miller!” he shouted.

  Andie and Cohen looked up from their own monitors. “What?” Andie asked.

  “Adam Miller! That’s the guy’s name. The Israeli diplomat. Come here. Look. There’s his picture right there,” he said, tapping the screen.

  Andie and Cohen left their stations and came around the table to where Casey was sitting.

  “This was like seventeen years ago, or something, but that’s him. That’s the guy who interrogated me with Parker.”

  “Are you sure?” Cohen asked.

  “What? Of course I’m sure.”

  “What is this? A yearbook?” Andie asked.

  “Yeah, from Northwestern University,” Casey said. “Miller and Parker were classmates.”

  “Adam Miller,” Andie said pensively. “I haven’t come across that name, but I’m still in the middle of checking State’s list of foreign diplomat assignments.”

  “You won’t find him that way,” Cohen said.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mr. Negative.”

  “You won’t find him in a search for diplomats, because this man is not a diplomat.”

  Casey looked at Cohen who was still staring at the picture. “You know him.”

  “Yes.” Cohen stepped back. “His name is Adam Miller, but he’s not a diplomat. He is Mossad.”

  Chapter 31

  “That’s how he knows who you are,” Casey said. “Y’all worked together.”

  Cohen shook his head. “No. I was done with team ops years before Miller’s arrival. I only knew him as a recruit. A student in one of my training sessions.”

  Casey tilted the chair back. “You must have made an impression on him the way he acted when I said you were here in D.C. Almost like you were his idol or something.”

  “He would do well to find another hero,” Cohen said.

  Casey didn’t ask him why. He knew nothing of Cohen’s past actions that didn’t involve him directly, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Despite their current cooperation, Casey could never forget that Cohen once tried to kill him. But the Israeli assassin had also saved his life. That was the past, and Casey’s world had changed since then. The world had changed. Now they had other issues to deal with.

  “So what’s the plan now?” Casey asked.

  Andie, Cohen, and Casey exchanged looks. “I need to talk
to Miller,” Cohen said. “I have no doubt that he’s the man you overheard Raad talking about. The attack last night is proof of that.”

  “That doesn’t mean they’re not looking for you, too,” Andie said.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Cohen agreed. “But if the Iranians were targeting Miller, that might mean he’s here for the same thing I am.”

  “To find the leak,” Andie said.

  “And he must be close since they’re already after him,” Casey added. “But when we were chatting last night across the table in that cold-ass room with no windows, it seemed like he hadn’t made the Raad connection.”

  “Which is why I need to talk to him,” Cohen said. “I think we may be able to help each other and end this quickly.”

  “How will you find him,” Andie asked.

  “If he is posing as a diplomat, even if it isn’t under official diplomatic cover, I should be able to find him at the embassy.”

  “You’re just going to walk in and ask if there’s an ‘Adam Miller’ working there?”

  Cohen peered at Andie with squinting eyes. “No, Ms. Jackson, I’m not. There is no need for anyone else but Miller to know I’m even here.”

  “That’s it,” Casey said.

  “What’s it?” Andie asked.

  Casey stood up and walked a few feet away before turning back to the others. “Miller knew who you were, but Parker had no idea. Parker and Miller were friends from their college days. And they both knew about the leaked operations to kill Iranian scientists.”

  “Okay,” Andie said when Casey paused.

  “And I think we all agree that Miller is likely working on finding the leak, same as us. And he’s close.”

  “But you said he hadn’t made the connection to Davood Raad yet,” Andie said.

  Casey waved her off. “Doesn’t matter. Raad is just the handler,” he said, getting a nod from Cohen. “That means Miller is zeroing in on the leak some other way. He didn’t need the Raad-connection to get as far as he did.”

  “Then how did he get close enough to have an Iranian hit team try to kill him?”