Выбрать главу

“Turrets one and three and all the five-inch. We had the gunshot while you were in DC. We’re ready in case this all goes to hell and a handbag. Just thought you’d like to know,” Rhodes said.

“Good work. Keep thinking that way and I’ll feel a lot better. Let me know when the staff gets here. I tasked the Chief of Staff with working up a plan to retrieve and deliver the team. The main thing is to be ready when the ‘go’ signal is issued. The first part of my plan is with the North Carolina, then we send a little message. I even have something up my sleeve for the Freedom and the Cochrane. I think it’s time to scare the hell out of someone,” Hammond said.

Rhodes tilted his head and smiled. “No arguments from me.”

Hammond walked forward and looked out of one of the portholes. USS Freedom was on station just ahead of Iowa on her port side. He wished he could be aboard when she opened it up.

Chapter 11

Data

NSA, Washington, DC

It didn’t take long. The NSA analyst began pulling up the data. For several years they had watched who had made phone calls and from where, especially calls to or from outside the United States. The laws strictly prohibited listening in without a judge’s permission. But knowing the call was made, what lines were used, the time the calls were made and the duration were fair game. The NSA had amassed tons of digital data, just waiting for the right request. Since the analyst had the date and time and phone number used, it was simple to pull up the records.

The 202 area code number actually went to what some called a processing facility where numbers were redirected as needed. These were used often to follow business leaders and their staff when traveling. But this year, the largest users were political candidates. Long ago the NSA had learned to follow that routing to get to the real source. In this case, the number was routed to the campaign headquarters of Gregory Foster, a Congressman currently running for President of the United States. The analyst blinked. “Oh shit,” he said out loud. He saw the one outgoing call to Venezuela and the return call. He also saw a call from another 202 area code to that number just fifteen minutes before the first call to Venezuela was made. Checking the records, it led to one of the few operating pay phones still left in Washington. This one was in the Pentagon. After a quick phone call, all the video monitoring data was being gathered for analysis. In this case, they already knew the day and time. It wouldn’t take long. His briefing and the evidence so far was turned over to his superiors. The revelation of who might be involved worried all of them, but for the analyst, it made no difference. Someone at the headquarters of a presidential candidate had just violated Title 18, U.S.C.

An hour later, after scanning the video from the security cameras, there was a face and a name to go with the telephone call.

The Pentagon

“Do you recognize this young man?” asked one of the FBI agents assigned to the case. General Richardson looked hard at the image on the screen. “I’ve seen him. I’m not sure which office, but in my travels around I’ve seen that face. Hang on a sec,” she said as she called in her aide. “Captain Ramos, you know that guy?” she asked.

“Yes Ma’am. That’s Captain David Ferrell. He works in the communications section. I know him because he’s usually the one to come get messages from this office,” said Ramos. “He heads up one of the teams down there.”

The two agents looked at each other. “Is he on duty?” asked one of the men.

“I’ll check,” said Ramos walking over to the computer on his desk. In just a second, he looked up. “Yes, sir, he’s working today.”

By now, Richardson had a concerned look on her face. “Mind telling me what the problem is?”

Agent Kelly came a little closer. “General, we need to get him up here without anyone noticing. Is there a way out of this place without being seen?”

Now Richardson had alarm bells ringing in her head. “There’s an emergency exit across the hall. People might see you going in, but it is usually deserted from there on. Only our own security will be watching.”

Kelly nodded. “It will have to do. General, it appears this man is your leak. We need to get him up here and get him out so we can talk to him without anyone knowing about it. We have a whole lot of questions to ask this young man.”

Richardson’s face turned red. For a moment she appeared ready to explode. She turned to Ramos. “Captain, give him a call and tell him there is a flash message I need to get out that’s top secret. Tell him it will be ready when he gets up here,” she said. Ramos turned and made the call.

Richardson turned to the two agents. “Are you sure?” she asked.

Kelly nodded, “About as sure as it gets.”

Richardson slowly shook her head. “I don’t know how you guys do this, but if he is the one, I don’t care what it takes. You find out who he’s working with and where it leads. Even if you can’t prosecute, get the information. Then give what you have to me. Under the UCMJ, I can make that bastard wish he had never been born.”

Kelly grinned. “Don’t worry Ma’am. We’re going to get him, and get him legally. Once we’re done with him, you are welcome to what’s left.”

Richardson smiled. “Then he’s all yours,” she said.

A few minutes later Captain Ferrell entered the outer office and was then sent to Richardson’s personal office. She was seated at her desk writing when he entered the room and came to attention. He didn’t notice the outer office door close.

“Captain Ferrell, Ma’am. You have a flash priority message to go out?”

She looked up from her desk. “Oh, I have a message alright,” she said.

From behind him the two FBI agents stepped into the office.

“Captain Ferrell, I am agent Kelly of the FBI. You are under arrest for violation of Title 18, U.S. Code. You have the right to remain silent,” said Kelly as he pulled the young man’s arms behind him and locked a set of handcuffs on his wrists.

A look a horror swept across the man’s face. “What do you mean? I haven’t done anything,” Ferrell sputtered.

As the other agent held him by the arm, Kelly walked in front of him. “Oh no? Let’s see, area code 202,” Kelly began as he recited the phone number Ferrell had called. “You also made the call from the pay phone near the men’s john on the food court. Thanks for turning toward the cameras for us,” he said.

The revelation that he had been caught swept over Ferrell like a thick blanket. All his political dreams and aspirations had now evaporated and he suddenly saw himself breaking rocks in a penitentiary. He seemed to deflate before their eyes. He looked up with fearful eyes. “I want a lawyer,” he said.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get one,” said Kelly.

Richardson walked from behind her desk. Her eyes were shooting flames at the young man as she walked directly in front of him and glared into him. “I suggest you cooperate fully with these men, Captain,” she said. “You have now become what we call a terrorist. What’s more, you have harmed both this nation and one of this nation’s heroes. More still, you have harmed a friend of mine. If you don’t give these men everything they need, you not only will piss off me, but every Marine and sailor in this nation.” Her face turned into an evil looking grin. “Now, you wouldn’t want to do that, would you?” she asked.

Two near growls came from the outer office as the aide and secretary reacted to her words. It was too much. Ferrell suddenly went limp as he fainted dead away. The second agent caught him as he fell.

Richardson turned and smiled at Kelly. “It seems our Captain is ill. I suggest you call an ambulance,” she said. “That should be inconspicuous enough.”