Silverwood lifted the phone and called Raymond Chou with NCIS. He sat flipping through the file as he waited for him to answer.
“Agent Chou.”
“Ray, it’s Brent. Hey, I think I may finally have something actionable for you on Sandra Brux.”
“Excellent. What is it?”
“Before we get into that… did you make a copy of that video when I was out of the room?”
Chou was silent for a moment, then he said, “I sort of thought that was why you stepped out. I’m sorry if I misinterpreted, Brent.”
“You didn’t misinterpret. I just wanted to make sure you’d done it. Okay, so let’s meet. I’m pretty sure I know where Sandra’s being held and by whom, but it’s complicated. I don’t want to discuss it over the phone. How soon can you be in Kabul?”
“Couple hours.”
“Let’s meet at the usual place then.”
“You got it. See you there.”
Silverwood hung up the phone and then stood from his chair and went down the hall to find Warrant Officer Skelton sitting at her desk in her cramped little office. “May I come in?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, rising to offer him the chair in front of her desk.
Silverwood sat down and grinned at her. “Why are you always so straightlaced with me?”
“Sir?”
He chuckled, perhaps for the first time in months. “You’re more relaxed around the Army brass than you are around me? Why is that?”
She looked at him, very carefully considering her response. “Well, sir… I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I know what to expect from ranking officers.”
“I see. Well, I’m flying home tonight, Elicia. You’ve given me the perfect excuse to leave you all in the lurch here, and I’m going to use it.”
“Sir?”
“I came down here to tell you I’m breaking with protocol. I’m not going to forward those DNA results directly to State. First, I’m giving them to an NCIS contact of mine. I’m guessing he’ll take them straight back to DEVGRU in Jalalabad. Have you kept up on what’s been happening with the Hezb-e Islami movement since we began our drawdown of forces?”
“Yes, sir. The Hezbis are growing like a weed, both the Gulbuddin and Khalis factions. That’s why the Army wanted to remove Aasif Kohistani. To keep him from—” Her eyebrows soared suddenly. “Wait a second! Kohistani has ties to the Waigal Valley — he was born there. But how could he have known we were preparing a raid?”
“Because the ISI guy we arrested yesterday has been feeding him information… and that’s classified, so don’t repeat it.” ISI was Pakistani intelligence, short for Inter-Services Intelligence.
“Holy cow,” she said. “The Hezb-e Islami parties have gained quite a few seats in the Afghan parliament. If they’re the ones who took Sandra, that could end up putting Karzai in a real spot. It could force him to choose sides against the US.”
“Very good,” he said. “You’re thinking. And that explains why his office was so quick with the offer to act as an intermediary for the ransom exchange.”
“You think Karzai already knows who has her?”
“I’m convinced of it, as a matter of fact. That’s why I’m back channeling this intel to DEVGRU. There’s something fundamentally wrong with this ransom demand. Sandra’s worth a lot more to these people than money. I refuse to believe that Kohistani’s too stupid to see that.”
Elicia felt her skin turn to gooseflesh. “You don’t think DEVGRU will act without orders, do you?”
He checked his watch and got to his feet. “Whether they will or not, I’m giving them the option. It’s very possible that DC already knows who has Sandra, and if that’s the case, your brilliant DNA research will likely wind up swept under the rug by the State Department.”
She stood up, a look of disillusionment in her eyes. “It seems all too possible now, doesn’t it?”
“Whatever you do, Elicia. Do not let on that you’ve put any of this together. When you’re asked, tell them you forwarded the results to me like you were supposed to.”
“Okay, sir. But… but if DEVGRU does take action, won’t State eventually figure out you were involved?”
“They might, but that will be my problem.”
She nodded reluctantly, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of him getting into trouble.
“It’s okay,” he said with a smile. “We probably won’t be seeing each other again, but I want you to know you’re an excellent investigator, and it’s been a pleasure working with you. You’ve a bright future with CID. Don’t jeopardize it by trying to cover my tracks.”
She smiled back, shaking his hand firmly. “We’re going to miss you around here, sir.”
CHAPTER 11
Deputy Director of Operations Cletus Webb was eating lunch in the CIA cafeteria with two of his assistants when he spotted Director Shroyer coming toward the table. He made eye contact, and the director stopped short, jerking his head back in the other direction as a signal for Webb to follow. Webb caught up to him at the elevator, and they stepped aboard, standing shoulder to shoulder as the doors closed.
“Breaking bread with the little people, are we?” Shroyer inquired dryly.
“They invited me,” Webb replied. “I didn’t have plans, and it felt rude not to accept.”
Shroyer grunted, inspecting his freshly manicured fingers. “The president’s ordered us to pay the ransom for Sandra Brux. Twenty-five million. I trust our people in Kabul have made the appropriate preparations?”
“Considering the players involved, this was anticipated, yes.”
“Good. Be sure our people log the serial numbers so we can track the bills,” Shroyer admonished. “We don’t need to be accused of playing Fast and Furious with twenty-five million dollars.”
Webb rolled his eyes. “It’s being done.”
Shroyer adjusted his trousers. “I’ve got Bob Pope waiting up in my office.” The director of the Special Activities Division of the CIA. “Due to the rumors we’re hearing, I want to make sure it’s understood that SOG is not to make any unilateral decisions over there should the enemy fail to deliver after we’ve paid Sandra’s ransom. It will be your job to keep SAD’s people on a short leash in the coming days.”
“And you expect me to accomplish this how exactly?” Webb wanted to know.
The elevator doors opened, and Shroyer turned to face him, his expression flat. “By making sure that Pope reminds his people as often as necessary exactly who the fuck they work for. Is that clear?”
“Oh, it’s certainly clear,” Webb replied. “I’m not so sure that SOG’s forgetfulness is likely to be the problem, but it’s certainly clear.”
Shroyer started to say something but, thinking better of it, stepped from the elevator and made his way toward his office with Webb in tow. They strolled one behind the other past Shroyer’s secretary and into the office where the SAD director sat waiting.
“Bob, you remember Cletus.”
Pope stood from the chair, offering his hand. “Of course. How are you, Cletus?” He was tall and slender with a head of thick, gray hair. His blue eyes were very intelligent looking behind his glasses, and he had a disarming, boyish kind of smile. He was the sort of man who always seemed to be half thinking of something else, no matter who was speaking to him or what their title.
“I’m good, thanks.” Webb took the chair beside Pope as Shroyer slipped in behind the desk.
“Sorry again for the delay, Bob,” Shroyer said, smoothing his tie. “Cletus’s secretary couldn’t find him because he was downstairs in the cafeteria… eating with the help.” All cellular calls were blocked within the building for security purposes.