Nine thousand miles away, it neared 6:00PM Wednesday, still the previous day, in Washington, so Avery didn’t have to worry about waking up Culler, not that he would have cared anyway. Culler knew that Avery only called him from the field when it was something important.
Culler was still in his seventh floor office, adjacent to D/NCS’s office suite when he took Avery’s call. It was normal for Culler to put in ten-plus hours a day at work. He sounded not at all pleased to hear Avery’s voice. In fact, his rather vitriolic, expletive-laced tirade caught Avery off-guard.
Avery barely had a chance to get in a word before Culler chastised him over the anonymous tip given to AMEMBASSY Dushanbe leading to a house full of dead bodies in Yazgulam. He told Avery that he should have called in as soon as he thought he had a solid lead on Cramer’s location. He also mentioned something about the FBI being concerned about Otabek Babayev having been restrained and shot multiple times.
Avery kept calm. He didn’t try to defend his actions, instead patiently allowing Culler to unleash. The man didn’t possess all the facts, and Avery knew Culler’s mindset would change once he heard about Ayni. This wasn’t how Culler normally acted. He was thoughtful and not prone to reactionary outbursts. Something else was going on, and Avery was sure it involved an irate D/CIA and D/NCS.
Finally, Culler informed Avery that the FBI forensics team that examined the IMU house in Yazgulam discovered Cramer’s fingerprints and DNA there, as well as two teeth and several fingernails that also belonged to the Dushanbe station chief. The blood was likewise confirmed to be Cramer’s.
The FBI also recovered another video from the digital camera in the house, Culler told Avery, fatigue and resignation in his voice, frustration over his seeming failure to save Cramer. The video showed Cramer’s graphic execution by way of having his throat sliced at the hands of masked IMU members. The voice analysis identified his killer as Otabek Babayev.
It must have been a pretty convincing performance and production, Avery thought, because Culler also said that both FBI and CIA analysts vouched the video’s authenticity.
“God damn it, Avery,” Culler said. “If you’d gone into that house just one day earlier, we could have gotten him out alive. Why the hell didn’t you call it in when you got the location from Gurgakov?”
Looking at it from Cramer’s perspective, Avery decided, this was simply the next logical step. He supposed that Cramer would have had to fake his death for all of this to work. Otherwise CIA would continue searching for him, and someone, somewhere would find a lead at some point.
“Are you there, Avery?”
To Culler’s surprise and irritation, Avery didn’t react to the news of Cramer’s murder. Instead, he relayed his version of events from Tajikistan, telling Culler in detail what he saw at Ayni, but omitting the part about Cramer for the moment. He informed Culler about the placement of the GPS tracker onboard the truck and provided the technical specifications and the frequency it transmitted on.
“Well, at least we got something out of this mess,” Culler grumbled. Babayev’s death was no small matter either. It was a significant blow to al-Qaeda-allied terrorists in the region. “Did you find anything else?”
“Oh, yeah,” Avery said, as though it was an afterthought. “Cramer’s not dead. The IMU, the execution, whatever it is you saw, it’s all bullshit. Convincingly done, I’m sure, but bullshit nonetheless. I saw Cramer at Ayni, less than two hours ago, along with SCINIPH and Adeib Arzad, and he was very much alive, with his throat intact. Poacher can corroborate. We saw him board a cargo plane full of drugs and Russians.”
“Jesus H. Christ,” Culler muttered. Then there was a prolonged silence over the phone, as he took several seconds to absorb this. Culler was rarely at a loss for words. “I’ll put out an alert for that Antonov. We’re going to find out who owns that jet and where it’s headed, and POTUS is sure as hell going to demand some answers from Putin’s gang.”
“No, don’t do anything, Matt. If you do that, Cramer will disappear, and we’ll never find him. We need to keep this quiet. Don’t make any inquiries. Don’t pass this information along, just sit on it for now.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Cramer’s probably on his way to the Lubyanka right now. The Russians launched a false flag op to grab our station chief. I have to go to D/NCS with this right away.”
“Okay,” Avery said, realizing what Culler was thinking. “Let me explain. Cramer’s not a prisoner, and I’m not sure if the Kremlin sanctioned this. Cramer’s working with these Russians, and he seemed to be on pretty friendly terms with our old friend Mullah Arzad, too.”
“What?”
“That’s right.”
Several seconds of silence followed as Culler absorbed this.
“To be clear, so there’s no misunderstanding here, you’re insinuating that-”
“Cramer’s dirty. He’s involved in an arms-for-drugs scheme, and he probably compromised Dushanbe station’s agents.”
“You’re absolutely certain of this?”
“I’m pretty fucking certain, Matt. I’ll send you the photos over Intelink. He faked his kidnapping by the IMU, just like they then staged his execution. It’s the only way you’d stop the search for him. He knows the Agency will never give up looking for him as long as they believe he’s alive, not with all the shit stored in his head, but eventually you will give up looking for a corpse. He knows exactly how Langley will react, every step of the way.”
“If what you’re saying is true, this is a total cluster fuck. How the hell am I supposed to go to D/NCS with this?”
“Leave Cramer to me,” Avery said. “I’ll find him. Tell D/NCS if you need to, but urge him to keep it quiet. Issue a press release. Announce Cramer’s death by the IMU and put up a new star on the Memorial Wall. Cramer will be listening to the news. Let him think he’s gotten away with it and that we’re searching Tajikistan for a corpse. Then, when I do find him, I’ll take care of it, and you won’t have to deal with the blowback. Just think of the cluster fuck when the senate launches a full investigation into Agency ops. Fuck, they’ll probably completely dismantle the National Clandestine Service by the time they’re through. Best to let the world believe the IMU abducted, tortured, and killed Cramer, at least for now. Until I can find him and bring him in.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re saying?”
“It’s for the best, sir, to keep it quiet.”
“No, not that.” Culler sounded exasperated. He didn’t like it, but he agreed with Avery on that part.
The media and the Agency’s enemies in congress would love to find out about a senior CIA officer involved in arming America’s enemies. It would quickly become a political issue. Conspiracy theories would run rampant. The fallout would have lasting and damaging consequences to American intelligence operations. All serving CIA officers would likely be investigated, and the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence would invariably demand new oversight and tighter control over the CIA operations branch. It was not an exaggeration to say that the National Clandestine Service might not even survive the scandal, or the service would at least become so completely neutered as to make it ineffective, which amounted to the same thing.
“Just before you called,” said Culler, “I informed the director of national intelligence and the president’s national security adviser that Cramer was executed by Uzbek terrorists. D/CIA was preparing to visit his ex-wife to give her the news. Now you’re telling me Bob’s alive and aiding and abetting our enemies.”