Nathan acknowledged the point.
“Also,” said Cantrell, “although I hate to say this, he was extremely good at his job.”
“Look,” Nathan said, “I’m not armchair quarterbacking anyone here. I understand both sides of the enhanced interrogation argument and both have merits. I’m just wondering why it all fell apart so dramatically.”
“When the new administration took power, one of the things the president was briefed on was Ironclad’s function as a rendition operation. Well, needless to say, the president was… how can I say this delicately? Concerned. He didn’t like the setup for a number of reasons. Although he never came out and said it, his primary reason was damage control. He was worried about fallout if the operation leaked. He didn’t want Ironclad smearing his presidency, then or ever. I’m not making any judgments on the president’s decision, that’s not my job. My job is to implement his foreign policies, whether I agree with them or not.”
“Did the CIA fund Ironclad?”
“Not exactly. As you know, the Kallstroms are independently wealthy. Not just wealthy, downright rich. They personally funded the resources to set up and operate Ironclad. Private jet charters for moving prisoners, a fake office in Hungary, shell companies, like the ones supposedly studying clean coal, arranging safe houses and subcontractors to deal personally with interrogators like Colonel Montez. You name it. It allowed the president total deniability.”
“So with Montez, in terms of transporting prisoners to their interrogation, dealing with Montez, then disposing of them, it was Kramer, pretty much alone?”
“Correct. Kramer set everything up and handled the day-to-day operations. We, the CIA, logistically supported him through an insulated contractor, Duane Dalton.”
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to just kill Montez when the president pulled the plug?” he asked.
“Normally, yes, but as we discussed in the hospital, many operatives like Montez have sleeper systems in place to protect themselves in the event they die, or even disappear for X amount of time. Blackmail traps set to release damaging info to the media. We sent a man down to Tobago to capture him alive. Unfortunately, that mission failed and Montez went on the offensive.”
“So Montez started with Kramer because that’s the only person he’d had any contact with?”
“That’s right. Think of Ironclad’s structure like an onion. Kramer. Dalton. Senator Kallstrom. Former Director Kallstrom. In that order. Montez never knew anyone but Kramer and Kramer’s knowledge never went deeper than the onion’s second layer, Dalton. That’s why Montez needed to find and interrogate Dalton.”
“Let’s hope Montez was telling the truth about his thumb drive being the only copy of Dalton’s confession. Senator Kallstrom could be facing a bigger threat than mere legal proceedings.”
“It’s possible, but we’re ninety-nine percent sure.”
“So, Montez…” Nathan sought the right words.
“Yes, he caved easily under interrogation.”
“How did you break him?”
“Actually, it was Harvey’s suggestion. We sent five of our biggest operations officers into his cell with a tube of KY and a box of condoms.”
“Did they have to, you know…”
“Not even a little,” said Cantrell. “Montez became downright loquacious, I’m told. Of course, we followed up with a whole suite of drugs and sleep deprivation to confirm everything he told us. But no, we never had to get rough.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. I don’t imagine many interrogators would be as equally skilled on the other side of the equation.”
“That’s generally true, but not always. You’re the exception to the rule.”
“I was never a professional interrogator.”
“But you are field qualified.” Cantrell took the I-495 north onramp. “Needless to say, a lot of powerful people are really glad you didn’t kill him, including the president. You and Harv have been the topic of numerous high-level intelligence discussions. You guys have new friends in high places now.”
“I’d use the word friends’ loosely.” He watched the suburban countryside fly past. “Did Montez’s rendition work ever yield anything?”
“Tons. That’s why it was kept active for so long.”
He waited.
“Okay,” she said at last. “You’ve earned it. We uncovered a plot two years ago with information that came directly from a Montez interrogation. You’re aware we have tighter security at all our major airports and that it’s become increasingly difficult to repeat what happened on nine-eleven. Not impossible, but far less likely.”
He wasn’t sure he agreed.
“What about private charters?” she asked.
“Private charters?”
“Rental jets. Hypothetically, a wealthy family-we’ll call it Family X-decides to take a trip to Europe. They charter a private jet. At many smaller airports all over the country, they can literally pull their vehicles up to the plane and load their own luggage. Let’s say they want to leave from San Diego, but the private charter company is based in Los Angeles. With me so far?”
He knew where this was going.
“So the private jet flies down from Los Angeles to a smaller airport in San Diego. An SUV drives out to meet the plane. Three brothers and two cousins pile out of the SUV. They look unassuming. Clean-shaven. Casually dressed. Except for their accents, they don’t seem out of the ordinary. They load their suitcases into the luggage compartment and climb aboard. The captain orders his fuel tanks topped off for the flight to the East Coast. But the suitcases don’t contain clothes and toiletries, they contain eighty pounds of Semtex each. Nearly half a ton in all. Once they’re airborne, they overpower the pilot and copilot and fly directly to the stadium for a sold-out Chargers football game.”
“That’s only a two minute flight from Monty.”
“Right. There’s no time to intercept the jet once it deviates from its flight plan and goes radio silent. They fly it into the stadium and detonate the Semtex a split second before the jet hits the seats. The concussive shockwave, coupled with thousands of pounds of burning jet fuel and twisted aluminum shrapnel, has catastrophic results. We estimate the death toll would be ten to fifteen thousand with double that number seriously burned and wounded. Men, women, and children.”
“Are you telling me Montez uncovered a plot like that and you prevented it?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. We took down a cell of five men and two women in Cleveland, along with half a ton of Semtex. They were planning to hit the Browns season opener. Montez wrung it out of one of the planners, whom one of my agents had captured during a joint operation with the Yemeni army. The cell was twelve weeks away from implementing the plan I just outlined.”
He shook his head. “Incredible. Did the president know about it?”
“Of course.” She softened her tone. “Nathan, you of all people know what goes on behind the scenes. None of this will ever be revealed to the public. For obvious reasons, it can’t be. We’ve also uncovered numerous locations of cells in Iraq, Afghanistan, Sudan, and elsewhere. In many of those locations IEDs and suicide vests were being manufactured. We discovered a plot to bomb the U.S. embassy in Kuwait and a comprehensive plan to infiltrate the highest levels of Afghanistan’s fledgling government. We’ll never know how many civilians and service members we’ve saved over the years, but it’s thousands of lives.”
“Like I said,” Nathan told her, “I understand both sides of the enhanced interrogation argument. I get that.” And he did.
“I’ve read the details on some of your missions, none of which will ever be revealed to the public either. How many lives have you and Harvey saved? You guys cleared the way for a SEAL team to seize a chemical weapons stash in Bosnia. You took out a rogue Russian general who’d been about to sell shoulder-launched missiles to Hamas. Can you imagine Al-Qaeda terrorists lurking at the ends of our nation’s airports with Stinger-type weapons? Even though Marine One constantly uses different routes to ferry the president back and forth to Andrews, eventually they’d get lucky and be in the right place at the right time and shoot it down.”