Broker was rinsing his coffee mug when his mind turned to the FBI’s previous traitor.
Robert Hanssen, a veteran FBI agent, had been spying for twenty-five years for Russia before his arrest in 2001, and was the most destructive traitor the FBI had known. Hanssen’s betrayal had led to the execution of two KGB double agents, the imprisonment of a third, and thousands of pages of highly classified material to land in Russian hands. Hanssen’s betrayal still haunted the FBI, and the slightest whiff of a mole made the organization paranoid.
Broker had been in the intelligence business for a long time and knew that every intelligence or investigative agency in the world was susceptible to betrayal from within. All that the best agencies could do was constantly reinvent their security protocols, minimize the damage when a rat was discovered, and relearn and reshape themselves. He could imagine the suspicion hanging in the air in the FBI corridors and, for the briefest of moments, felt sympathy for Isakson. He shook his head, snorted, and polished his mug extra hard.
Being a double agent in an organization such as the FBI was not easy. It required leading a double life and layers to be maintained for many years. Successful double agents were able to make the life layers a habit, as ingrained as brushing teeth in the morning. Such agents got exposed because they either got betrayed by another double agent or in some cases got careless, or overconfident, and made mistakes. Robert Hanssen got exposed because the FBI tapped a former KGB agent who gave evidence that led to Hanssen’s arrest.
Isakson’s traitor was yet to make any mistakes, which meant that the traitor was so seasoned that the double life was his life. Or that Isakson had not picked up his mistakes. Or, and this was a possibility, that there was no traitor — that all that happened could be coincidences, even the messages at the warehouses. Broker would start his investigation fresh; he didn’t want to be contaminated by Isakson’s thinking, assumptions and judgment.
Broker also realized that there was no one who was beyond suspicion. With that in mind, he glanced at his watch and made a call. It was early, very early, but the person at the other end took calls at any time.
Broker met Clare in a drab office near City Hall the next day.
‘Keeping busy, Broker?’ Clare greeted him.
‘Can’t complain, ma’am. There’s enough wickedness in the world for me to earn a living,’ replied Broker.
Clare poured him a coffee and waved at him to continue.
‘I met Isakson yesterday—’
‘I heard,’ Clare interrupted him with a ghost of a smile.
Why wouldn’t she? She’s head of the most secretive and well-informed Agency in the world, Broker thought and continued, ‘He wants my help in an investigation of his.’
‘I think I know which one.’
‘Do you think his theory has legs?’
‘I’m sure you know the answer to that one, Broker. The FBI has been traitor-free for several years now. Either that situation is too good to be true, or it is true. No organization is immune to rats. In any case, I heard that there is some evidence to back his theory, so he’s not shooting in the dark. Are you going to help him?’
Broker nodded. ‘Yes, after letting him swing in the air for a day or two more. Unless you have some assignment for me and the rest…’ He trailed off.
Clare shook her head. ‘Nothing right now. But even if something comes up, I’m sure you can multitask well. Besides, they’ — she nodded, referring to the FBI — ‘know I have dibs on you.’
‘I need to talk to Director Murphy,’ he told Clare.
Clare laughed. ‘Ah, that’s why you wanted to meet me. You want to know how Pat would react if you investigated him too?’
Broker spread his arms wide in acknowledgement.
‘He’s been in the investigation game for a long time. If you didn’t put him under the scanner, then he’d think you’re the wrong person for this. You aren’t. There’s no one more qualified to help the FBI than you guys. In some quarters, you are viewed as guns for hire, or rather my private army, but I know he’s aware — General Klouse, and a few select others as well — of the full extent of your skills. You don’t need to be worried about Pat. Go investigate, and see if you can crack this and identify the mole, if you think there’s one.’
‘Thank you, ma’am. That’s what I wanted to hear. Could you arrange for me to meet him?’
An eyebrow lifted up. ‘You don’t want Isakson to set that up for you?’
‘Nope. If I get involved in this, I want to do it my way. If they have a mole over there, he’ll get wind of Isakson setting up my meeting and might be able to figure out what my role is. My way — I’m just another meeting the Director of the FBI has.’
Clare nodded. ‘I’ll set it up. You’ll get a call from someone.
‘You’ll be looking at Isakson too?’ She knew what his answer would be.
Broker grinned. ‘That’s the bonus in all this.’ He paused. ‘You mentioned no agency is immune… you’ve had rats too?’
A small enigmatic smile came and disappeared quickly. ‘Surely you don’t expect me to answer that, Broker?’
Broker nodded in acceptance and understanding. In an agency that didn’t exist, any mole, suspected or the real article, had a short shelf life. As he was leaving, she asked, ‘How are you guys coping? I met Bear and Chloe sometime back, and they were holding up well.’
She was referring to Zeb.
Broker turned back to her, all the humor gone from his face. ‘There isn’t a day that we don’t miss him. But the pain is becoming manageable now.’
He smiled suddenly and fully, the smile that made many hearts skip a beat from Wall Street to Wushan. ‘He would give me the Zeb look if he heard that,’ he said and stepped out.
Clare — Director of the most powerful agency in the world, Keeper of Secrets, as many called her — sat staring at the door through which Broker had passed.
Zeb had been her protégé. His absence hurt her as much as it did Broker. She sighed deeply and made the call to Pat Murphy, Director of the FBI.
‘I’m in.’ Broker called Isakson a few days later.
‘Thank you. I’ll—’ started Isakson, only to be cut off by Broker.
‘Send me all the rest. I want everything, notes, scribbling, doodles… if anything was put to paper or on a computer, I want it,’ said Broker and hung up.
He waited, and his phone rang minutes later. Isakson. He let it ring a few times and then answered it.
‘Broker, we don’t work like that. I would like you to work out of a secure office I can set up for you—’
Broker interrupted him. ‘Deputy Director, I don’t work like that. Send your stuff to me, and I’ll come to you if and when I have something or I want something. If Clare comes up with an assignment for me and my team, I’ll drop everything I’m doing, including this investigation, and do that job. Those are my terms.’
He heard Isakson go quiet for a long while, and then he responded stiffly, ‘Very well. I’ll send everything we have, and get you security clearance, and fix up any meetings you need.’
‘The first two, yes. I’ll fix my own meetings,’ responded Broker and hung up on Isakson.