Chapter Four
Daniel stepped out of the shower and dried himself in front of a full length mirror that hung on the back of the closed bathroom door. The steam-obscured image of his body gradually clarified as he wrapped a towel around his waist. He could barely stand looking, but never turned away. His body was well toned from a regular routine of calisthenics, running and soccer. He carried very little body fat, which gave him a slightly gaunt appearance, which Jess said could be fixed by adding about five pounds to his frame. He'd have to stop exercising to gain any weight, and sometimes a ten mile run was the only thing that kept his head clear.
As his body materialized in mirror, Daniel turned his head slightly, still looking. His torso was covered by numerous scars, some short and deep, others long and shallow. Two particularly nasty scars criss-crossed his chest, evidence of a knife fight that had ended badly for Daniel, and worse for the young Kosovar militant that had stumbled upon his sniper position. Most of the scars were reminders of his fickle luck; shrapnel and bullet fragments that hadn’t found a lethal home in Daniel's body. A few of the scars were self-inflicted, part of his indoctrination at the "Ranch." The most notable mark on his body sat high on his right arm. A faded panther tattoo.
He opened the bathroom door and saw Jess standing at the foot of their bed. She looked stunning, as usual. Her dark brown hair, cut and styled straight, rested just below the shoulders of a navy blue blazer. Collar points of a crisp white blouse lay over the blazer's lapels, brightly contrasting the dark jacket. She had chosen to wear matching suit pants instead of a skirt, which slightly disappointed Daniel. He thought she looked killer in a fitted skirt. Her eyes were fixed to a television hidden inside of the dark red armoire that sat against the wall, in front of their bed. She pulled a black belt through several loops of her pants while staring at the television.
"You missed a loop," he said.
Jess took her eyes off the television to face him. "Quit staring," she said jokingly.
"I really can't help myself," he said,
He examined her face, still amazed by how similar, yet different she looked since they had first met at school. Her seductive light brown eyes added a soft, exotic dimension to her dark complexion and perfect angular jawline. She was more stunning now than ever before, and his love burned stronger than ever. He was convinced it would never burn out. It was a love forged by a fire few could possibly imagine.
"Check this out," she said, and nodded at the television.
Daniel walked over to help her with the loop she missed, and stared at the screen. A local reporter stood in front of two Cape Elizabeth police cars, which blocked the entrance to a long driveway. The driveway extended through a stone archway with dark iron light fixtures on each side, and led to a partially obscured luxury home settled behind mature pine trees. The archway connected to a three foot tall sandstone wall that extended the entire length of property's road frontage. A local police officer leaned against the left side of the arch with his arms folded, keeping a close eye on the media crowd. Daniel caught a sparkling glimpse of Casco Bay through the archway, just past the house.
The reporter identified the deceased as Mohammed Ghani, an importer with offices in Portland and Boston. Police were withholding details, but an anonymous source reported that Ghani had been stabbed to death outside of his home. Another source confirmed the presence of federal agents at the crime scene, but Portland's FBI office had refused to comment. Daniel decided to change the subject.
"Hey, are you going out for drinks with the ladies tonight? I could meet you out for dinner after."
"That would be nice. We can grab sushi at Sakura's. It's right across the street from The Lounge," she said, turning to face him.
"Ah…The Lounge. Where all the young ladies gather to sip Cosmos…"
"And all the men stand around watching them," she added.
"I can't wait to pluck you out of there, right in front of all those desperate guys. Can we pretend we don't know each other?"
"I can't guarantee the behavior of the women in my office, so it's probably not a good idea. Sounds fun though," she said and kissed him.
"The betrothed members of the crew usually start heading home around eight, so meet me any time after that."
"I can't wait," he whispered, and kissed her passionately.
Chapter Five
Randy Keller strode casually down a crowded corridor in the National Clandestine Service's wing of the Central Intelligence Agency's headquarters building. At seven in the morning, the Counter Terrorism Center's section was quiet; most of the analysts and staff were sitting in sluggish traffic, still thirty to sixty minutes away from the CIA's sprawling McLean, Virginia campus. In about thirty minutes the place was going to explode, and he would prefer to be back on the road when it did. He just needed to get the required "face-to-face" check-in out of the way, then he would be free to cruise back to his liaison office at FBI headquarters, where he imagined he would be sleeping for the next week, until they figured out exactly what had happened to Task Force HYDRA.
He reached the end of the corridor and paused at a door that read "Karl Berg, Assistant Director, Counter Terrorism." He knocked and waited.
"Come in," he heard someone yell.
He scanned the room as he stepped inside, and was surprised to find both Karl Berg and Audra Bauer, Director of the Counter Terrorism Center, sitting around a small spare computer workstation next to Berg's desk. They both looked back at him as he hesitantly entered. He hadn't expected to make a report directly to the CTC's Director.
"Grab a seat, Randy. The director and I just finished with the latest feed from the FBI. This link is fantastic work."
"Thank you. You're seeing what they feed out to their on-scene agents and key section heads. They add agents to the feed as they are brought into the investigation. It keeps everyone in the loop and on the same page, but it's not always the fullest picture," he said.
"And that's exactly why we have you over there. I've read your summaries of this morning's events. I agree that the FBI had been compromised. Please have a seat," stated Audra.
Keller turned a chair to face them and sat down. He glanced at the window and wondered if they were really designed to resist electronic listening devices. In over fifteen years at the CIA, this had never been a concern for Keller, since he had never sat behind a desk in a room with a window. His office at the FBI was the closest he'd ever achieved, located across the hall from the coveted window offices.
"Do you have any ideas where to start looking?" Audra Bauer asked.
"Ma'am, it's difficult to say. They don't compartmentalize their operations like we do here. This is one of their highest priority investigative task forces, but they still have no organic support assets. The core team is permanently assigned to HYDRA, and is comprised of mostly Terror Financing personnel, but they rely on key players in nearly every other section for critical, daily support. These key personnel probably spend most of their time working for the task force, but they also support other investigations within the entire Counterterrorism Division. I see new names and new faces on a weekly, if not daily basis. I've managed to compile a list of everyone that I've seen, but I guarantee this is not a complete list. Just too many people involved to count. You should've seen how many people they assembled this morning. Lots of fresh faces," he said, and handed a flash drive over to Berg.