| Subject: Storm Clouds Part Three |
Author:
Karen
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Date Posted: 09:35:51 11/28/07 Wed
In reply to:
Karen
's message, "Storm Clouds" on 18:16:06 11/24/07 Sat
A/N Okay we’re done with the setup now we’ll get to the good stuff.
Sorry about yesterday. It was a zoo around here.
Storm Clouds
Part Three
CIA HQ
Mc Lean, VA
Early July
The call had awakened him from a sound sleep late last night. Damnable spies! It had been Webb, asking him, no, ordering him to come to CIA Headquarters during his afternoon D.C. layover the next day. Harm had been groggy and told Webb where to go and what to do with it in fairly specific language. Webb just chuckled and instructed him to ‘be there’, then hung up the phone.
Frustrated, Harm had lost more than an hour of sleep to no small amount of aggravation that quickly segued into foreboding. More than anything else, it was a warped sense of curiosity that eventually spurred his trip to the Langley complex.
A visitors badge was waiting for him in the reception area and his concern grew when no one appeared to escort him to Webb’s office. The guard just waved him through to the elevators. Something was very wrong.
“Welcome back,” Webb greeted Harm with a dark look. “Have a seat.
“Webb, I’m in no mood for your stupid jokes.” Harm sat on the edge of a chair, indicating his intention that this meeting be short.
“No joke, Harm. You didn’t really think we’d let you go that easily, did you?” the spy offered lightly.
Harms jaw tightened. A knot formed in his stomach that told him he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear.
“Whatever you have to say, say it. I have a plane to fly back to Norfolk in two hours.”
“You sound happy with that,” Webb chided.
“Actually, I am. I’m quite happy,” Harm assured him, realizing not for the first time since he took the job that it was true.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, Harm, but we have a job for you.”
“I don’t want it.”
“You haven’t a choice.”
“There’s always a choice, Webb. I have a job.”
“Which I’m sure you got all on your own.”
The pit dropped out of Harm’s stomach. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, don’t worry. We didn’t pull any strings. Just dropped a hint here and there.”
“I’m well qualified for that job and you know it,” Harm insisted defensively.
“I know it, Rabb, and you know it, but unless some information had been placed in the right hands, no one else would have ever known it.”
“What are you trying to pull, Webb? Whatever you’re up to, I’m not amused. The Agency made it quite clear they didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Correct. We don’t. I don’t. You’re too visible, so someone farther up the food chain decided that the best place for you was somewhere equally visible. A place so visible no one would suspect you had anything to do with us.”
“So you’re saying you arranged for the airline to hire me?” Harm was steaming now.
“Not exactly. I’m saying, we suggested that if they could use a really good pilot, there was one available. And it would be real convenient if he was assigned to an East coast route.” The praise ground from Webb’s mouth as though it hurt to voice it.
“So the job isn’t genuine?” Harm asked morosely.
“On the contrary. You qualified proficiently and according to reports, you’re doing a stellar job. In fact they want to give you a raise.”
“Dammit, Webb, quit playing with me.”
Webb held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “On the level, Rabb. You are officially and legitimately employed by Trans Union as a Trans-Platinum pilot. Only you can change that. The job is yours as long as you want to keep it and can pass your yearly qualifications.”
“Then whatever you want I guess I can tell you to go to hell and go back to doing my job.” Harm started to rise.
“Well, not exactly. That’s where it gets complicated. You see, due to everything you know, everything you’ve seen, both with the agency and the military, we couldn’t really cut you loose. You never really were debriefed, and you’re much too valuable to just forget about. Incidentally, that’s the Navy’s opinion, not mine. Unfortunately, Rabb, regardless of your grandstand plays you do get results. So we just tucked you away somewhere high profile but low key until we needed you.”
“Now that makes less sense than anything you’ve said so far.” In the back of his mind though, Harm was quickly figuring things out and he didn’t like his conclusions one bit.
“Okay, to put it in simple terms, when Kershaw dismissed you he didn’t really ‘fire’ you he just sort of ‘reassigned’ you.”
“Reassigned?”
“Sort of.”
“To where?” Harms voice caught.
“It worked sort of the same way as when we ‘reassigned’ you from the Navy to the Agency.
“To where?” he repeated through clenched teeth.
“Back to the Navy, actually to Naval Intelligence. But they loaned you back to me for this operation.”
“Naval Intelligence!? Funny, no one mentioned for the past eight months that I’m still in the Navy.”
“I know, isn’t that perfect? The whole thing just fell together flawlessly.” Webb gave a sarcastic grin. “Now you’re in exactly in the position to do the job we need done. And no one is the wiser”
“Webb, I don’t know whether to believe you or not. How do I know the Navy still owns me? Trans Union writes my checks, and the last time I looked I didn’t have anything else going into my account from the government.”
“Well, here’s how it happened, you were sort of put on a temporary inactive reserve status.” Webb tap-danced around the truth. “Of course, since you weren’t really required to serve the usual weekend a month there was no pay accrued.” Webb waved his hand as though the finer details were inconsequential. “Now that you’ve been reactivated you’ll get paid again. I guess no one figured you’d really miss the BX. In fact, I hear your new job affords you the luxury of some pretty high end shopping. You’ve become a real clothes horse, Rabb. Armani? Hugo Boss? Wish I made that kind of money,” Webb sneered.
“I bought a new suit and a sports coat, Webb. Not exactly a wardrobe, and you forget I know about your family,” Harm matched him sneer for sneer.
“Never mind,’ Webb dismissed the confrontation as though he hadn’t started it. “Now that we’re ready for you to step in on this case you’ll be back on active status, but on loan to us.”
“And I’m just supposed to jump through your hoops because you tell me you got me this airline job?”
“I told you the job is genuine, Harm. You work for them and you’re paid by them. You just happen to belong to the Navy as well, who incidentally loaned you to us,” Webb reiterated slowly as if he were speaking to a child.
“So who’s paying me now?”
“Well Trans-Platinum still pays you to fly their planes, and as for the rest…” Webb waved his hand casually, “The accountants will work that all out somehow. It doesn’t really matter. Anyway, if we paid you into your regular bank account someone might notice, and that won’t do, so, we’ll have a special account set up for you. Someone will tell you about it later.”
“I can’t be on active duty for the Navy, and work for the airline and the CIA too. It’s not legal. At least, I don’t think it’s legal. You can’t get away with this, Webb,” Harm charged. He wasn’t sure what Webb was up to, but last time he looked the CIA wasn’t supposed to operate inside of U.S. borders, so who knew what other rules had been changed in the past year.
“Yes, we can, and we have, Commander. Consider yourself something akin to an independent consultant…only not really independent.” Webb’s cold smile was infuriating. “Besides, your country needs you, Harm, so I doubt you’ll make waves. Bottom line, there are all kinds of these little wiggle holes that fall under Homeland Security and the Patriot Act if you really want to be troublesome…” Webb’s tone was mildly threatening. “Look I can give you someone to talk to, hell, you can talk to Kershaw if you want,” he offered with a fraction of tired patience.
“Not if I can help it,” Harm replied disdainfully.
“Then call Slater at the Pentagon, or Henry in Naval Intelligence. They’ll verify. Or you can just take these.” Clay handed him two IDs, one a Navy/military card with his rank as Commander, the other, CIA.
“Which one of these is phony?” Harms asked suspiciously.
Webb gave Harm a devious smile. “Let’s just say the Agency one is ‘temporary’. Don’t let anyone see either of them unless you need to use it for official identification.”
“I’m not completely stupid, Webb.”
The spy gave him a hard look.
Harm stared at the two ID cards. Webb was right, if they were calling him back, regardless of the circumstances, he would do his best. But that feeling warred heavily with the self-satisfaction and comfort he’d felt doing his job for the airline. Finally, he took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Okay, what is it you need me to do?”
“Now that’s the old team player I remember and love,” Webb crowed caustically.
Harm returned a hard look. “I was dumped by Chegwidden because he said I wasn’t a team player.”
“Yeah, he blew that one badly,” Webb shrugged. “Chegwidden had some personal issues that got the better of him. It’s unfortunate. He was a good man up until then.”
“Was?”
“He retired last month. Sometimes it’s just time to go fishing, you know?” Webb remarked cryptically.
“Yeah, I know. Or flying.”
“You can still fly. I’m telling you, Harm, the job is genuine. The only thing you might find from time to time is that there may be a temporary transfer to a new area, but believe me we have enough stuff going on right here and we’re not completely inept. We won’t over-use you. You’re sort of our secret weapon. We’ll only pull you out when we really need you. Agreed?” Webb now exhibited a false cheeriness that grated on every nerve Harm possessed.
“Agreed,” Harm surrendered grudgingly. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. “Tell me what you want me to do?”
“You’ve heard about the new carrier they’re building, and the prototype for the joint strike fighter?” Webb jumped directly to the point.
“Yeah, so has everyone else on the planet. That information isn’t anything earth-shattering. They’re all over the news. There are even sites on the internet.”
“Correct, but what isn’t public knowledge is the part that’s important, not the fact that they’re being built.
Harm cocked an eyebrow.
“A certain percentage of the information about a new weapon or piece of equipment is released both for funding and general public information. It’s information that couldn’t really be kept secret anyway. What they don’t release is the precise specs, for example, how fast a fighter flies, its exact turning radius, or its weaponry, the range of the carrier’s new electronics, its shielding, or its actual top speed, special programs that run things, that sort of stuff. The other side can guess maybe even make a good educated guess, but they can’t know, and it’s things like that they want. That’s what the whole world wants, because unless they have a clear idea of what they’re up against, they can’t build a weapon to combat it.”
“Uh huh. But we’re not fighting the whole world,” Harm responded, still not surprised.
“Maybe not today, but you never know who will be on who’s side tomorrow.”
“Is that what drives you, Webb? This paranoid suspicion that everyone on the planet is your enemy?”
“Precisely, and you better get with the program because you’d be really surprised where this guys contact is peddling the information.”
“What guy? What information?” Harm insisted impatiently.
“The exact specs on this equipment almost as fast as it’s decided. It’s been leaking for almost a year.”
“A year? Who? How?” Now Webb had his attention.
“Come around here,” Webb instructed tapping some keys on his computer.
“This man is Richard Patterson.” He showed Harm a photograph of a rather innocuous looking middle aged man. Nothing was particularly startling or noticeable in either his appearance or demeanor. Several short clips showed him walking, talking, even eating a hot dog from a vendor on the Mall.
“So?” Harm responded.
“It’s taken us months to narrow it down, but this is our man.”
“Then arrest him. Why do you need me?”
“Because we can’t actually catch him at it. That’s why we need you. And it would be real handy to find out who he’s passing the information to and how.”
“I thought you said you know who is getting the information,” Harm challenged.
“We know where it’s ending up, but not how it gets there. It’s that intermediary we want. The one Patterson sells to. It’s kind of difficult to bring someone to trial without direct evidence,” the wily spy smiled blandly.
“Not that he’d ever see the inside of a courtroom. More than likely once you get firm evidence he’ll just meet with a terrible accident.”
“Harm, you wound me,” Webb insisted dramatically.
“Give it a rest, Webb. If you know who it is, why is this so difficult, and why did it take you so long to catch on to him?”
“Process of elimination, mostly.”
“Clarify, please,” Harm was losing patience again.
“There are naturally only certain people with access to the information we’re talking about.”
“Naturally.”
“Well it was a slow process of feeding incorrect information to everyone, one at a time until it turned up in the wrong hands.”
“Okay, I still don’t see how this involves me.”
“We’ve followed this man everywhere, but we can’t find him contacting anyone we don’t know. The only place he’s out of our sight is when he’s on your plane.”
“My plane?”
“Yes. Once a month, occasionally twice he travels to D.C. to present the newest information to the Joint Chiefs and the Senate Armed Services Committee. Sometimes it’s just ordinary updates, and others it’s the newest information on high-level systems. But within a week the other side always has the information he had.”
“Phwew! He has that kind of clearance?”
“A Program Director. That’s why it took us so long to sort him out. At some point, he’s involved with nearly every aspect of the two projects. We had to search hard to find areas he had no direct knowledge of in order to identify him. His particular responsibility though, is to keep the people inside the Beltway in the loop, to explain the technicalities, demonstrate the specs, and computer models. He carries it all on a specially coded micro drive. It’s supposed to play in only two systems, one in the Chief’s meeting room, and one in the Senate committee room. It’s only accessible after specific codes have been entered by both Patterson and the head of each group.”
“You mean he can just download anything he wants and take it home with him?”
“Of course not, Rabb,” the spy spoke with exaggerated patience. “When his briefing is set up only the exact information he needs is fed to a special link in IT. They load it into a secure program on the drive and it then passes through physical security with a code that is changed each time at the last minute.”
“Sounds tight, so what’s the leak?”
“We finally discovered he was making a copy from the micro drive using a hole in the security software.”
“What kind of hole?”
“Need to know, Rabb.”
“Webb, if you want…”
“Okay, okay, it’s a programming hole.”
“The programming has a hole in it?” Harm was astonished.
“Well not exactly a hole. It’s that…not everyone in the government has the latest computer equipment, or runs the newest operating systems. Naturally, ours are top flight,” Webb preened.
“Naturally,” Harm conceded the point.
“Also the contractors use the newest and best.”
“Get to the point.”
“I am. You people at JAG had pretty updated equipment, because you carried your laptops around and were always breaking them.”
“And?”
“And the point I’m making is that in less high tech areas they have older equipment and older systems. The computers are stand alones, so there’s no possibility of a breach, but anything you run on them, any programs used have to be backwards compatible. That makes for some natural loopholes due to the older operating system’s. Some are still running Windows 95.”
“So how did he find them? I thought he was an engineer,” Harm puzzled impatiently.
“He is, a Computer Engineer, his specialty is all the programs that drive and operate the carrier and fighter. However, his minor was in computer programming. That gives him all the skill he needs to break into the miniature drive and accomplish the theft. He found a hole in the program and copied the information.”
“Then jam the micro-drive, confiscate his computer, anything.” This just didn’t sound like something they needed him for.
“Our computer wizards have done something better. After we discovered who it was and what he was doing, we placed a second file on the drive. We feed the incorrect information into the original file so he continues to pass on false information. A new file on the drive is coded differently, the new one only plays on a completely rewritten program for the proper people in D.C. Naturally, they’ve upgraded their computers. But so far he doesn’t realize it was anything more than a scheduled replacement.”
“Why not keep feeding him incorrect information?” Harm remembered an operation when they did exactly that with a Tomcat captured by the Cubans.
“This operation isn’t just one shot, its long term with repeated changes and updates. There’s too much chance he’ll find out what were doing, and once again find a way to access the genuine information. Or worse, he’ll realize he’s been caught and disappear before we can nail him. No, we have to stop him now that we’ve identified him.” Webb held up a hand to still further protest. “Before we go any further, sit here,” he moved from his seat, “Read his file, it will explain everything. Don’t mess around with the computer,” Clay warned. “If you try any thing funny it’s programmed to shut down and dump the hard drive.”
Harm just gave him a disgusted look and took a seat. “I not only don’t want to know what’s in your files, Webb, I don’t care if I ever see them again. You have any coffee? My sleep was all messed up last night.” He grinned broadly, knowing it would annoy Webb to fetch him the drink. Turning to the computer, he smiled to himself when Webb stomped off.
“Extra cream, easy on the sugar, please,” he called after the retreating spy. Then he opened the first file.
Paging slowly, he became thoroughly familiar with Patterson’s habits, mannerisms, and job description. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about the man. He had little family, only a few cousins in another state. No one in his background or family had the least suspicion connected to them. He’d put himself through engineering school using scholarships and a small inheritance from his father. Since he was hired during a college recruiting session, he had made steady progress up the ladder in his company. He had no questionable or expensive habits. Drove an ordinary car, ate in ordinary restaurants, wore ordinary clothes. He was almost too ordinary. He was someone you wouldn’t look at twice if you walked past him, and probably would have difficulty keeping your attention focused if you found yourself in conversation with him. There was no particular reason on earth for the man to sell his government’s secrets to the enemy, and no particular reason for him not to.
Harm had just finished reading the specifics of how they had identified him as the leak, and what had been done to track his movements, when Webb returned. Following him, his assistant placed a tray with coffee and a couple of sandwiches on the sideboard.
“Laura, reminded me of my manners, Harm. After all I’m taking your lunch break.”
Harm smiled a polite ‘thanks’ at the young woman as she scurried out of the office closing the door behind her.
Rising from Webb’s seat, he took advantage of the food and the coffee. They actually had a decent cafeteria at Langley. This chicken salad was his favorite.
After he doctored the coffee to his liking and took several bites of his sandwich, he cocked an eyebrow at Webb. “Am I missing something here? I still don’t see how there’s anything I can do.”
“We can’t put anyone else on your plane to watch him in flight. Those planes are too damned small. He’d spot another tail. We need help from someone who is already on the flight. It’s the only place he has left that he could possibly be handing off the files.”
“How do you figure?”
“We have him sewed up too tight everywhere else. He can’t sneeze without at least ten people saying Geshundheit! On the ground we can use ten or twelve people to tag team him, but on a plane that only holds fifty people, it’s just too difficult. It has to be someone he expects to see there, someone he doesn’t really see.” Webb moved his shoulder to indicate the answer should have been obvious.
“Who does he usually sit next to on the flight? Is it the same person every time?” As soon as Harm asked the question, he knew they had checked it thoroughly, but he felt it might push some of Webb’s buttons so he asked anyway.
“Of course we checked, Harm. We do know our job.”
Harm just shrugged. Given his history with Webb and his Agency, he wasn’t thoroughly convinced.
“We put someone on the plane once or twice,” Webb hedged. “We also checked the passenger list for every flight as well as reviewing security tapes, but he’s always next to someone different. One thing is funny though, Patterson sits in the same seat on the same flight every time. Seat 5C, flight 0735 on Monday morning and flight 1653 on Monday afternoon. He tells the reservation agent he’s superstitious, so either he’s passing to different people every time, or someone is getting a last minute change of seating. There isn’t always something new every month, but occasionally he makes trips twice a month or more, and we’ve yet to find a pattern in his seatmate. We need you to find out if someone is allowing a seat switch and who. It could be your co-pilot. She checks out as a nice young woman…Hispanic background…close family ties, but she could also be part of a sleeper cell. Her facial features are general enough she could be from the Middle East, or she could be just an Islamic sympathizer.”
“How do you figure? She seems to have a perfect background.”
“That’s my problem with her, she’s too perfect,” Webb responded.
“Hmmm, more of your paranoid suspicions, I suppose,” Harm ventured. “Doesn’t seem likely. Still anything is worth checking. But if she asked to have a seat changed for a passenger very often it would look suspicious.”
“Perhaps, there’s no record she did anything like that, as I said there isn’t something to pass on every week. If she has another friend with the airline…perhaps a gate agent…,” Webb shrugged, “check her out anyway. In any case shes a good looking woman and you need to do something about your social life, Harm,” Webb taunted.
“Leave my social life out of this Webb, this is business,” Harm scowled.
Webb laughed. Goading Harm would be a perfect way to keep him off balance. More seriously, he continued, “Actually the one who could get away with it easiest would be your flight attendant. Merrick Stevens is a young man who lives an alternative lifestyle,” Webb added disparagingly. “That kind’ are never trustworthy.”
“’That kind’, Webb?”
“You know what I mean, Harm. Furthermore, he blames the industry, possibly ‘the government’,” Webb made little quotes in the air to indicate a generalization, “for the death of his long time lover in a crash years ago. Right after the crash Stevens disappeared. He only resurfaced in the last year or so and coincidentally applied for the job with Platinum Commuter Flights.”
“Maybe it ‘was’ just a coincidence, Webb.”
“Maybe, but my money is on him.”
“Where was Stevens when he ‘disappeared’?
“Word is he was staying with his grandmother in Devon.”
“What does she say?”
“She says he was there, but won’t answer any questions about his activities.”
“Sounds like my grandmother,” Harm mused. “Why does his lifestyle make you particularly suspicious of him?”
“Some men never forgive or forget when they lose someone on the job,” Webb answered vaguely, with questionable relevance.
“You referring to Mac?” Harm challenged, realizing Webb had dodged the question.
“Does it apply?”
“Everything applies, Webb,” he ground out. The thought of Mac nudged something he’d kept tightly locked away. He knew if he opened that particular vault the contents would eat at him until there was nothing left.
Webb turned away, looked out the window, not meeting Harm’s eyes.
“I have a new job, and I’m starting a new life, Webb. The past is past.”
“Perhaps that’s true. For you.” He turned back towards Harm, something unidentifiable in his eyes.
“It has to be true for me, you saw to that, both in Paraguay and when you got me fired. It was you, wasn’t it?”
“It seemed best for everyone at the time,” Webb’s answers were still ambiguous
“And now you’ve decided you need me, so I get to play double spy games again, but if I get caught by anyone I’m up a creek. Isn’t that how it works?” Harm had become impatient with the cryptic tone of the conversation.
“Essentially, that is exactly how this business works. By the way, I hear you inherited an apartment house.” Webb changed the subject abruptly.
“Yeah,” Harm laughed derisively. “And from what I’ve heard, it needs to be burned down.” He really needed to find the time to go check the old place out.
“We could arrange that,” Webb answered enigmatically.
“Why don’t you just arrange to cut me loose for good,” Harm’s reply was harsh. But something deep inside didn’t really mean it. He was back in the game.
“Unless you have any more questions, you have your assignment, Harm,” Webb ordered in a tone that was sudden, abrupt, and dismissive.
“I think I have what I need. I’ll be in touch, Webb.” Harm’s face was transparent, the wheels already turning. Processing the information he’d just received, the ramifications of this man selling defense secrets, and just how he would go about discovering who was helping him. He walked quickly through the door pulling it closed behind him.
The look of satisfaction on Webb’s face indicated that he’d read Harm correctly. He knew if given the challenge Harm couldn’t resist. Webb had however expected more questions regarding Harm’s return to duty. He’d thought he was going to have to pull a major bluff and he wasn’t sure he was good enough. Harm must have been particularly stunned by the news of his status, or he would have been more suspicious. Webb would have to think of ways to keep him off balance.
It had been mere hours after Harm had left the Agency’s employee, that several people started thinking it was a bad idea to let him get away. It had taken months to get the approval to reinstate him to the Navy retroactively.
After a lot of foot dragging, having the paperwork shuffled to the bottom of various in-baskets, this thing with Patterson had come to light and suddenly everyone concerned could see the merit in restoring Harm to the Navy. Just two hours ago, Kershaw had called to inform Webb that everything was in place. Harm’s status in the Naval Reserve had been approved. At least that part of the operation was now legal…
Driving his rental back to the airport, Harm mulled over how sticky this could all get. What impact his activities could have on his ‘new life’? Discovering he was still attached to the Navy had somehow given back a lost part of his pride.
Unfortunately, his piloting career might be threatened, and he realized more than he had imagined just how much he enjoyed it. And threatened it would be, if it were ever suspected that his had been the finger that pointed to a co-worker. It would be difficult to fly with people who didn’t trust him. There could be no vindicating details of this operation to instill confidence, only the suspicion that he had been responsible for the loss of a fellow employee. He would be walking a very fine tightrope.
He considered calling Davis and demanding to know just how much influence Webb had exerted to get him the job, but he quickly reconsidered. That was an ego driven move. The fact was he had the job, even Webb had admitted it was legitimate and the airline was well pleased with his performance. Hmm, so they were considering him for a raise. That would be nice, as long as he didn’t blow this case and mess up the status quo.
For now, he could only concentrate on the assignment. Orders were orders. The easiest place to start would be investigating ‘Mari’. He’d ask her out for dinner, get to know her personally, see what his sixth sense told him. Webb would like to see him seduce her and he might have to play his intentions that way, but it was the farthest thing from his mind. Still, he could dust off a gentle version of his old fighter jock charm and mix it with a smidgeon of grumpiness towards all things ‘official’.
If she ‘was’ playing for the other team a disaffected pilot with a head full of government information could be just what she was looking for. He’d see how she responded to his masquerade.
He refused to allow his mind to think about Mac at all.
End part three
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