“Frank!”
Agent Mendoza looked over his shoulder.
“You better take Keller with you. I’ll see if I can get him full access,” said Sharpe.
Chapter Sixteen
Colonel Farrington saw the group approaching from the direction of the Information Section's only authorized non-emergency access point: four men, escorted by a navy Lieutenant Commander wearing the summer white uniform. The Navy had recently shifted uniforms, trading service dress blues, which resembled a dark blue suit, for a white, short-sleeved uniform that reminded Farrington of the old fashioned Good Humor Ice Cream man.
"Thank you, Commander, I have them from here. Gentlemen, welcome to the Compartmentalized Information Section. Let's take a seat in the briefing room, and we'll get the formalities out of the way quickly," he said, and led them to a room adjacent to his cubicle.
He fished a pair of keys out of the front right pocket of his crisply pressed dark green uniform trousers, and opened both of the locks to the room. The briefing room was sparse, decorated with a heavily varnished, rectangular conference table that could seat twelve. However, there were no chairs in the room. No pictures adorned the ugly off-white walls, and the room was illuminated by harsh florescent lights recessed behind large opaque plastic ceiling tiles. Separate stacks of paperwork sat neatly arranged on each long side of the table. Each stack was topped with a face sheet that displayed one of the agents' names.
Colonel Farrington walked to the far end of the table, as everyone else filled in around their respective stack. Before anyone uttered a word, three more people filed into the room, and stood against the wall facing the colonel, on the other side of the room. The last one in, a female Marine staff sergeant, closed the door behind her. Farrington registered a look of discomfort on one of the FBI agent's faces when the door closed, which gave the colonel some satisfaction.
When he had arrived to take this post, he had replaced a Navy Captain, who had turned this conference room into his own personal oasis. Comfortable chairs, pleasant lighting from several dimmable standing lamps, wall hangings and a fully stocked coffee station. Other staff members assigned to the section used it as a lounge when it was not in use. One of his first acts was to strip the room bare. He didn't want any sense of comfort to exist here. In fact, he preferred that the room made everyone feel on edge. Only clear plastic sheets covering the walls and floor would make him happier about the room. His job was to enforce the Department of Defense's strictest information sharing protocols. Penalties for leaking information in the Sanctum ranged from a simple career damaging letter of censure to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole on charges of treason. He liked to set the right tone here in this room. Nobody in his section even glanced twice at the door anymore, and he alone held the keys to open it.
"Alright, let's get started. There are four documents that each of you must sign to enter the Sanctum. First, an explanation of the CIS categories, and specific instructions regarding the management of sensitive information under each category. CIS stands for Compartmentalized Information Security. You will all need to read and sign the acknowledgement under CIS Category One, which I'm sure you are all aware, is the highest level of information security, carrying the highest levels of penalty for any accidental or purposeful unauthorized breach. Category One is the easiest to remember. You can only share information directly, and in person, with the individuals listed on your agreement. In person means actually in person, face-to — face, in a secure environment, taking all reasonable precautions from eavesdropping, purposeful or accidental."
Agent Mendoza opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the colonel.
"Before any of you lays the proverbial egg, there is a procedure for disseminating information pertinent to your investigation. My staff, and Mr. McKie from the Defense Intelligence Agency, will assist you in this process. Our charge is to protect sensitive, classified information, while at the same time helping your investigation. I'm sure we will all butt heads today, but I assure you we are in no way trying to hinder your progress. Anything cleared by Mr. McKie will be retyped by one of my staff, either staff sergeant Brodin or technical sergeant D'Onofrie, and faxed directly to your operations center with a CIS Category Two classification. Mr. McKie will make the ultimate call on what is Category One or Two, and what can be transmitted or communicated.
“If you see something in the files that Mr. McKie won't release via fax, then you'll need to personally carry the information in your head to your immediate director, Agent Sharpe, who will not be able to share it with anyone outside of the list. Are your heads ringing yet? It's a lot to process, but we'll try to make this as easy as possible for your organizations.
“Agent Mendoza and Mr. Keller are free to leave and reenter as they wish; however, we do require that Agents Harris and Calhoun stay within the Sanctum until the file is resealed. My staff will be required to make the same sacrifice. The Sanctum has full bathroom and shower facilities, cots, coffee, and you can order whatever you'd like from the canteen to be delivered at any time. We'll send the bill to your agencies. Spare toiletry kits can be found in the bathrooms."
He paused and looked directly at Mendoza and Keller.
"As for the two of you, anyone moving in or out of the section must do so with an escort, and you'll be subjected to our strictest security protocols on the way in and out of the building. No rubber gloves gentlemen, but you will be scanned and frisked. Cell phones must be surrendered to security personnel; they are strictly prohibited in this section. Wear your security badges at all times. If there are no further questions, please read through the documents, and sign them. Once you're done, we'll get you situated in the Sanctum. Entry and exit from the Sanctum is strictly controlled by me, and I will be available at all times to facilitate your comings and goings. I'm here as long as you're here."
"Will you be stationed inside of the Sanctum with us?" asked Agent Harris, shuffling through his paperwork.
"No. I unlock and release the file to Mr. McKie. Once he has confirmed that the contents of the file match the contents requested, you won't see me again inside the Sanctum, until it is time to lock the file back up for good. I simply serve as the gatekeeper and document custodian. I have no idea what you've requested, only that the strictest of security protocols has been assigned to the handling of the information contained in the file. Take a few minutes to finish the paperwork, and I'll get you situated."
Ten minutes later, Colonel Farrington walked out of the Sanctum, satisfied that everything was in good order. McKie had enthusiastically confirmed that the contents of the vacuum sealed, pressure activated storage locker matched what the FBI had requested. Project Black Flag. As usual, General Sanderson's intelligence was right on the money. The files were stored in a single oversized, modern briefcase, which surprised Farrington. Most of the files in the Sanctum had been converted to thumb drives, hard drives, or even full laptop computers. The briefcase contained all of the known surviving documents pertaining to Sanderson's notoriously successful covert operations program, and judging by a glimpse of the contents from across the table, the documents were originals.
He sat down in his cubicle, and glanced around the section. He could hear activity, but didn't see anyone headed in his direction, so he reached into his briefcase and removed his cellphone. He dialed one of fifteen phone numbers that he had committed to memory over the past year, in preparation for this day.