Jake followed Wiley. “Yeah? Who are your customers?”
“My customers are who you think they are. CIA, FBI, NSA, all the Special Forces, DOD, Homeland Security. The list goes on. And don’t limit your thinking to domestic. Two of my biggest customers are the British SIS and Mossad.”
“How? This place is too small to do as much as you say.” Jake walked over to the couch and sat down.
“Jake,” Wiley followed him to the couch and sat down. “I read your dossier. You served on the USS Mount Whitney as an intelligence officer.”
“Yes sir, that’s correct. Is that relevant in some manner?”
“Only in that you should know my companies outfitted the Navy’s electronics. All the surveillance equipment you used…my design. Most of the items we produce are not needed in large quantity, so we don’t need an assembly line. My products are highly specialized and are mission specific. When things are designed for the commercial market, they rarely get down to the kind of detail required by my customers. They say the devil is in the details and that is the basic truth of designing and building this stuff. The reason I spend so much time on what appears to be such a simple part is if it were made in mass production, it wouldn’t meet my customers’ standards. Those coils you saw my employees hand winding will have to be tuned to reach their intended values. The parts you’ve seen are mostly inductive elements required in precision filters. Most of them are used for Improvised Explosive Device disabling technology.”
“I had no idea.” Jake said. “IEDs have killed and maimed many soldiers. I wasn’t even that familiar with them until I went to work for Bentley.”
“Knowing people’s lives are at stake and taking that responsibility seriously is what it’s about.” Wiley said.
“You said something earlier.” Jake shifted on the couch just in time to watch Wiley make another hair swipe. “You said you had a degree in biological science?”
Wiley nodded.
“Are there any biological weapons here?”
“First of all, I don’t make biological weapons, precisely. Nothing is produced at this facility that has any biological use at all. This factory is strictly radio frequency and microwave emission oriented. My Belgium lab has the only biological laboratory I own. You’ll get to see it tomorrow.”
“Precisely?”
“Biological weapons carry with them the stigma of WMD, weapons of mass destruction. My biological lab is more genetics oriented.” Wiley made another hair swipe.
“What does that mean?”
“You’ll find out tomorrow.” Wiley said.
Something Wiley said earlier stuck with Jake. And it bothered him. You, too, will be my emissary. That line carried with it a lot of implications. Implications Jake wasn’t sure he liked. None of which he liked. And why would he be going to Belgium?
“My guess is your Belgium factory is located near Imec. That would tie into everything you do, RF and microwave emission technology and biological research.”
Wiley smiled. “Bentley was right.” Hair swipe. “Your analytical skills are impressive. But if you don’t learn some self-control, you will have a short career and quite possibly a short life-span.”
CHAPTER 12
“Is there a reason I have to go to Belgium with you?” Jake’s perplexity at the situation Bentley had thrust him into, was eating away at him.
“Of course there is.” Wiley was calm, showing no irritation at Jake’s attitude. “I’m getting you out of the country so Scott won’t have to lie to Senator Boden. The senator sees no need for the CIA, he’s an advocate of the NSA and is pushing Scott to turn you over so he can arrest and prosecute you.”
Wiley got up and walked over to a rack, pulled an item off a shelf, tossed it up in the air and then caught it with his other hand. “But Scott won’t do that because of loyalty to you…or rather your father.”
The last comment stung. Once again he’d received preferential treatment because of his father’s influence. Living in his father’s shadow had become the bane of his existence. He was certain he’d lost that stigma when he took down Laurence O’Rourke and discovered the secret hidden in Ireland.
“Jake?” Wiley asked.
“Yes.”
Wiley held up the small item he’d removed from the shelf then tossed it toward Jake. Jake caught it one-handed.
“You know what that is?” Wiley asked.
“It looks like something you plug into the back of a computer. It has a serial connection.”
“That’s correct.” Hair swipe. “It’s one of the first things my partner and I created for the CIA. It started as a filter for a radio. It distorted and altered the signature emission. Later we adapted another version for a computer, which made it virtually undetectable. With the filter attached, no transfer of data could be captured. It allowed our computer total secrecy when hacking into another computer. Made it untraceable. A huge advantage gained in virtual espionage.”
Wiley held his hand up and Jake tossed the filter back. Wiley meticulously placed it on the shelf where it came from and motioned for Jake to follow him.
Jake spent the next two hours following Wiley around his facility, listening to him explain the function and the reason many items came into existence. The man was remarkable and Bentley was right, he did have a number of eccentricities.
Jake was following Wiley back to his office when the old man stopped mid-stride and glanced at his watch. He could see the old man making a mental calculation.
“Jake, we need to leave now. It’s just under a nine-hour flight with a quick refuel in Goose Bay, Canada. We should be in Brussels by ten at the latest. We’ll eat and sleep on the plane.”
Wiley took off toward the elevator and motioned Jake to follow.
Cowboy met them as the elevator opened into Wiley’s office. “Sir, I have your overnight already loaded and Mr. Pendleton’s bag is still in the cart.”
“Great.” Wiley said. He turned to Jake. “We’ll take my Citation. That way we can get there fast.”
They followed Cowboy to the stretch golf cart.
Jake laughed. “Citation and fast should never be used in the same sentence unless you have a 750.”
Wiley looked him in the eye. “I have two Citation 750’s and a Lear 23. The Lear is in Brussels. My other Citation is on assignment at the present time.”
Wiley was smart, like Bentley said…and obviously very rich.
The golf cart pulled into the hangar. The Citation’s air stair door was open and Jake saw one pilot standing by the door while the other pilot was sitting in the cockpit. The Citation 750 was boasted as the fastest business jet in history with a top speed of over six hundred miles per hour.
“This is my personal Citation.” Wiley climbed out of the cart and walked toward the aircraft door. “Wherever it goes, I go. This aircraft stays with me at all times. I never know when I might have to jump and run. Airline schedules are too unpredictable.”
The whirl of the right engine spooling up filled the air. Cowboy handed Jake his bag. “Say hello to Kyli for me, would you?”
“Sure. Whoever that is.”
The Rolls-Royce turbofan engine fired flooding the tarmac with the smell of burning kerosene. Jake stepped up the air stairs as he heard the whirl of the left engine spooling. The co-pilot followed him into the aircraft, closing the door behind them.
Wiley had already buckled his seatbelt. “Sit down, Jake. These two jet-jockeys won’t waste any time getting us in the air.”
He slipped his bag into the compartment by the door and took the first seat next to Wiley. He twisted his neck around and observed the cabin. Four leather seats up front in club-style configuration. Behind the seats were two bunks in sleeper-car configuration. Located in the rear of the aircraft was a galley and restroom.