Chapter 100
Lieutenant O’Brien expected to spend most of the day on a wild goose chase for his ten year old personal notebook.
When he first made detective, the station house was at Berkeley Street. It had moved on to One Schroeder Plaza in 1997.
O’Brien checked his computer screen and selected the case file to find the exact date. It was in late 1987, so there was a chance his notebook would still be downstairs in the storage room.
He picked up the phone and called records.
"Records. Sergeant Hatherley."
"Hi Bill. It’s Greg O’Brien in Homicide."
"Hi Greg, how’s it hanging?"
"Fine thanks Bill. What’s happening downstairs with the rats?"
"It’s not too bad down here actually. It’s great in winter, warmest place to be! What can I do for you buddy?"
"I need a favor. I know this is a stretch, but I need to get hold of my personal notebook from late 1987. There is something there that a guy from CIA wants to know about. It sounds really important. Can you dig around a bit?"
"No sweat, it will be here somewhere. Come on down and you can help me find it."
"Thanks Bill, I’m on my way."
Before heading downstairs, he went out into the Plaza and bought two large cups of coffee from Starbucks. Then he headed down to records.
"Here you go Bill, some police bribery" said O’Brien as he passed over the coffee.
"Thanks Greg, appreciate it."
The records sergeant opened the security door to admit the detective, and led the way through a maze of shelves. As they wandered along, Bill kept checking numbers on the cardboard boxes stacked to the ceiling.
It took about thirty minutes before they started getting close.
Bill grabbed a ladder and brought it over.
"Hold this, I don’t want to fall again, I am getting too old for this shit."
"I got you" said Greg, as Bill shinnied up the ladder.
"Hold this" said Bill as he passed down a heavy box to the detective.
"It this the one we need?"
"No, it’s the one underneath. Put that on the floor and catch this one?"
When they had it on the floor Bill removed the security tape and started digging around.
"Are they in order" asked O’Brien.
"They are supposed to be, but that never happens. Help me unpack them until we find the one you want."
The box contained maybe a hundred official notebooks, all handwritten on the job by the officers. They worked slowly but carefully until O’Brien found it.
"Son of a gun! Here is the slippery little sucker" announced O’Brien proudly "I will bring it back in a couple of hours."
"Not so fast, you need to sign it out" explained the records man.
When the paperwork was done, Greg O’Brien thanked his fellow officer and hurried upstairs.
Before even looking in the book, he called the CIA switchboard again, the number was written on a piece of paper from his last call.
"Central Intelligence Agency, Pat speaking."
"Matt Peterson please."
"One moment Sir."
A few moments later Matt picked up on the first ring.
Chapter 101
The large table was surrounded with people when the President arrived and the gathering leapt to their feet in unison.
"Please be seated" said President Connolly as he sat heavily in the end chair.
The President turned to his right to face Adam Scott the CIA Director "Adam, what is so important, and who are our guests?"
"Sir, I think you know Bill Simpson, my head of Intelligence."
"Yes, I have seen Bill do a briefing on Lebanon. It was excellent work."
"Thank you Sir" replied Bill proudly.
"Mr. President may I present Natasha Orlov, she is with Russian intelligence."
"I am pleased to meet you Miss Orlov. I have no idea why you are here, but I assume I am going to find out very soon. Congratulations on being the first Russian national to ever enter this room."
"Thank you Mr. President. I am honored to be here" said a visibly blushing Natasha.
"Our last guest is Matt Peterson. He is an analyst and works for Bill in intelligence" explained Adam Scott.
The others around the table needed no introduction. There was of course the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs Admiral "Horatio" Nelson. There was the National Security Adviser Robert Brett, as well as a number of other military people covered in gold braid.
"Thanks Adam. I had to cancel a trip to Camp David, so I guess this is important."
"Yes sir." Adam stood, took a couple of deep breaths and then began.
"We have reason to believe that there is another nuclear weapon in the hands of a terrorist group. We also believe that you are a potential target Sir. Bill, can you please handle the details." Scott sat down.
It was Bill Simpson’s turn in the limelight. He sprang to his feet and began his briefing.
"Sir, you will remember the aircraft that was shot down by the Port Royal and the fact that it was carrying nuclear cargo …"
The President interrupted, "Bill, let’s call a spade a spade. It was a damn bomb, not cargo. Don’t dress this up, give it to me straight."
"Yes sir, I’m sorry. We traced the radioactive material back to Russia. With the assistance of the Russian government, Miss Orlov and Mr. Peterson, we have determined that there are two other weapons in the hands of the terrorists."
"So far we only have a lead on one, but of course we are looking for both."
"We have credible intelligence that one of the weapons is concealed in a small sailing vessel and that it is currently on route to, or already here in U.S. waters."
"Not good," said President Connolly, "What else do you have."
"Perhaps Matt Peterson should take it from here." Bill sat back down relieved.
"I guessed that was why he was here" said President Connolly impatiently.
Matt stood slowly. His left arm was still in a sling and quite painful. He cleared his throat and was about to begin.
"What happened to your arm?" asked the President with concern.
"Mister President, I was shot last week in Riyadh while I was working on this case" said Matt with embarrassment.
"Thank you, son. I really appreciate what you are doing. I read the reports. I know some of what you guys do and usually all by yourselves" said a President Connolly with pride "you are a credit to your country."
Matt’s eyes began to mist over, so he got into his prepared speech immediately.
"Sir, together with Miss Orlov we tracked the weapon to a shipyard in Minsk Russia. We were given a lead there and then we were able to follow a financial trail back to a billionaire Saudi Arabian Sheikh called Kamal Pashwari."
"Pashwari has gone missing and we believe he is the skipper of the boat that Bill mentioned earlier."
"This guy spent a number of years in the U.S. He studied at M.I.T. and has visited numerous times since then on business. He controls a business empire that spans the world including state of the art electronics operations."
"Why would a guy like that be involved in something like this?" asked President Connolly.
"Sir, we believe it was his son that was at the controls of the light aircraft that was shot down by the Port Royal."
"Oh shit" said a now worried President Connolly.
Matt was going to continue when his cell phone chirped. He took a quick look and saw it was from Boston.