The Defector, page 4
And nobody drove it but him.
He climbed in the driver’s seat and started the engine, giving the throttle a little extra shove, enjoying the roar. “Top up or down, sir?”
“Leave it down. There’s a reason I wanted to take your car. I’ve always wanted a convertible, but my wife nixed the idea. I tell ya, if she goes first, I’m heading to the dealership on my way home from the funeral.”
“Don’t tell her that, sir.” Dawson eased them from the curb and headed in no particular direction. This wasn’t the first time the colonel had asked him on a ride, and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last. All he did know was that every time it happened, it wasn’t good news. Dawson reached around and grabbed a ballcap off the floor of the back seat. “Better put this on, sir, you’ll burn.”
Clancy fit the Army cap in place, but not before running his fingers through his thinning hair. “Thanks, Sergeant Major.” Clancy said nothing as BTO gently played on a perpetually tuned station from the factory-original AM-only radio. “Good tune.”
“Yes, sir. Nothing but the classics played in this classic.”
“It would be sacrilege to play the shit the kids listen to today in a fine automobile like this.”
Dawson grunted. “Don’t get me started, sir. Half the guys in the Unit are in their twenties. I swear some of them don’t know what a song sounds like without Auto-Tune or an f-bomb every second verse.”
They pulled out of the residential area and Dawson had them heading into the country so no stray words could be heard. He waited for the colonel to broach the subject.
Clancy leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes for a moment before sighing heavily. “I have some bad news.”
Dawson tensed. “What?”
“Dylan Kane just defected to North Korea.”
“What?” Dawson’s jaw dropped as he stared at his commanding officer. “Are you sure?”
“Eyes on the road, Sergeant Major.”
Dawson returned his attention to the road but didn’t have to adjust his steering, his training leaving him always aware of precisely where his vehicle was heading. “Sir, what can you tell me?”
“Everything I know. You’re being retasked to the CIA. Two teams. One will enter North Korea, the other will be offshore to assist should it become necessary.”
Dawson’s stomach knotted. “What are our orders?”
“Your orders are to locate and eliminate Kane before he reveals everything he knows to one of our greatest enemies.”
Dawson shook his head. “This is bullshit. There’s no way he defected. It makes no sense.”
“That’s what I said when Director Morrison called me personally.”
“But he was one of us. He was a member of my team. I know him. There’s no way in hell he’s defected.”
“A lot of people agree with you, but he parachuted onto the Bridge of No Return then calmly walked over to the North Korean side and was welcomed with a handshake and a drive. Then there are the messages.”
“Messages?”
“He apparently sent messages to Morrison and Leroux. Leroux’s was an apology, and Morrison’s was a challenge.”
“Challenge?”
“He basically said that if Morrison was going to kill him, he better send his best, otherwise their blood would be on his hands.”
“So, they’re sending us.”
“Yes.”
Dawson bit his lip as he stared ahead. “Was anyone else considered for the mission?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Your team is the best and has worked with the CIA too many times to count. They know you, they know what you’re capable of.”
“But they have their own teams.”
“Yes, but there’s concern they might have a mole.”
Dawson’s eyebrows shot up. “A mole?”
“The messages were sent precisely when the CIA identified Kane as the man in the footage. There’s no way he could have known because he was already in custody, and the identification didn’t happen until the next day. Someone triggered those messages. If they have a mole, then they’re concerned any team they send in might be compromised, or the North Koreans might be notified.”
“Who’s Control?”
“Leroux’s team initially. They’re being sequestered now. All communications monitored and no leaving the ops center without an escort until the mission is complete. When the kill order is issued, another team with no connection to Kane will take over.”
Dawson’s eyes narrowed. “If they’re taking that precaution from the CIA side of things, why not us? We’re about the only team at Bragg that has a deep connection with Kane. He’s a brother.”
“I argued that, but Morrison insisted. I believe he is still holding out hope that this is some sort of misunderstanding, and he wants fingers on those triggers that will think rather than just act.”
“Are you saying we should question the order when it comes?”
Clancy regarded him. “Not at all. I’m saying use your best judgment. What the eye in the sky says is happening might not be what the eye on the scope sees. If you have that shot and are ordered to take it, but your gut tells you something else is going on, then make your own decision.” He smirked. “Just don’t tell them I told you.”
“I never would, sir.”
“Bullshit. If it turns into a Charlie-Foxtrot because you don’t take the shot, you tell them I told you not to. Don’t fry your career because I planted doubt. I don’t mind going down for it. I can retire at any time if I want to. You’ve still got a promising career ahead of you.”
Dawson pursed his lips. “Are you thinking of retiring?”
“We all do at my age, but if I did, who the hell would cover your ass when you took dangerous advice?”
“Like they say, no one can replace you, sir, only succeed you. But don’t stick around for us. You deserve your retirement.”
Clancy grunted. “My wife just told me on the way to see you that her sister has suggested she might move in with us since she’s having some mobility issues.”
Dawson suppressed a laugh, knowing full-well that Clancy and his sister-in-law did not get along. “I’m not sure what to say to that.”
“Sergeant Major, if she moves in, I’m deploying with you. Hopefully I’ll catch a bullet that puts me out of my misery.”
Dawson laughed. “That’s always an option. Or we could arrange a drone strike. Where’s your sister-in-law live?”
“I’m afraid to tell you. If Niner finds out, he just might arrange it.” Clancy sighed. “When I do retire, I’m going to miss this.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Okay, let’s head back. Tell the men to be ready to deploy in two hours. I want you in South Korea ASAP. I don’t want to risk another team being assigned that’ll take that kill shot without thinking.” He turned slightly toward Dawson as he completed his U-turn. “But if the order is given, and you see no evidence that this is just another one of Kane’s crazy plans, then take that shot. If he’s betrayed his country, I don’t care how good a friend he is. He dies.”
Dawson’s chest ached at the duty that lay ahead. “You can count on us, sir.”
Even if it is the hardest kill I’ll ever make.
11 |
Temporary Staff Quarters, CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia
Leroux flinched, reaching for his sleep mask as someone sat on the edge of his bed. He yanked it aside and relaxed as he recognized Sherrie’s silhouette leaning over him.
“Sorry I woke you.”
He did a self-assessment and found he felt much better. “How long have I been asleep?”
“Three hours.”
“Oh shit! I told them to wake me in two.”
“And I countermanded that order after talking to Sonya. The team is still working the problem, and she can handle things. The more rest you get now, the better.”
“What’s the status?”
“Bravo Team is in the air, and assets on the ground have interviewed the pilot that helped with the insertion. He had no idea what Dylan had planned, and was mad as hell when he opened up the door and jumped out. He depressurized the plane. Really messed things up and the pilot had to execute an emergency dive. He’s got a bill for Kane if he ever decides to come back to this side of things.”
“Hey, people are trying to sleep here!” protested someone at the far end of the bunkroom.
“Sorry,” whispered Sherrie. She leaned in and gave Leroux a kiss. “Next time use your rank to get a private room. I’ll make it worth your while.” She patted his chest. “I’ll let you get your rest.”
Leroux shook his head. “No, I’m awake and I’m starving. Let’s go to the caf’ and talk.” He rolled out of bed and Sherrie extended a hand, hauling him to his feet. They left the room, someone clapping as they exited, and made their way to the cafeteria where years ago he had bumped into his old high school buddy, rekindling the best friendship he had ever had.
And it crushed him.
He was working to save his friend, to prove there was something else going on, but he wasn’t at the top of his game, and so far, all evidence suggested Kane was indeed defecting. Yet he couldn’t be. He would have said something, even indirectly. Yes, he was dissatisfied with the direction the country was headed. He feared the polarization of the two sides could lead to civil war, or at the very least blood on the streets no matter who won the next election. They had all agreed that Western civilization was collapsing due to this polarization, but how was defecting to the most closed regime on the planet the solution?
It made no sense.
Sherrie grinned at him as he piled his tray with food, the smile spreading at the cash register as the rotund woman ringing it in gave him a look.
“Honey, if I ate like that, I’d be twice my size.”
Sherrie patted him on the shoulder. “I help him burn it off.”
The lady howled. “Oh, sugar, if I had a man like that at home, I’d be your size too.”
Leroux blushed then tapped his phone to the reader before heading to a secluded table where they could talk. His stomach growled again in anticipation, confirming the need for the mountain of food, and he tucked into it as soon as his ass hit the plastic seat.
“Slow down, you’ll just make yourself sick.”
“That type of sick I can take.”
Mushroom soup with broccoli, done.
Should have got two.
“So, I was right. I was called in because of what is happening with Dylan. Anyone who’s worked with him in the past is being interviewed to see if there were any indicators we missed to suggest he was going to do this.”
“And what did you say?”
BLT sandwich. Awesomesauce!
“I told them the truth, that he had never suggested any desire to defect, or ever questioned his loyalty to his country or the Agency.”
“What about our discussions about society in general?”
“I didn’t feel it was worth mentioning. We all feel the same way. If that were cause for concern, we’d all be getting fired.”
Leroux grunted then took a swig of the 2% milk carton Sherrie had opened for him. “Yeah, I didn’t say anything to the Chief either. There’s something else going on here that we’re not seeing, and I think the key is those messages.”
“In what way?”
He cut into his meatloaf. “Who’s sending them and how? And how do they know when to send them?”
Sherrie eyed him as he shoveled the oversized portion into his mouth. “Isn’t that obvious? I mean, at least partially?”
Leroux stopped in mid-chew and stared at her. He covered his mouth. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you got the message through his secure network. That’s not somebody on the outside sending messages, that’s someone who has access to his private system. That has to be a small list of suspects.”
“Perhaps, or he brought in someone new, or he automated it somehow.”
“It still needs a trigger. It can’t be a coincidence that the moment we identify it’s him crossing the bridge, you and the Chief get messages. Someone had to have either told the person sending the messages for him, or triggered the automated system to send the message. Either way, the messages are being sent from somewhere.”
Leroux scooped mashed potatoes into his mouth as he thought. Sherrie was right, of course. His mind had been a fog, but now was clearing. He felt dramatically better than just this morning, and his brain was functioning again. The key was the messages. If someone was sending them, or an automated routine was sending them, it didn’t matter. The questions were, are there more, and what did they say? And what triggers would activate them? He put down his fork and finished his milk. “Could he be using his”—he lowered his voice and leaned in—“private ops center?”
Sherrie nodded. “That’s what I was just thinking. Maybe we should pay it a visit.”
Leroux picked up his fork, resuming his feeding frenzy. “I can’t. I have to stay here. And besides, we have to keep this off the books.” He paused. “What’s your assignment?”
“Nothing at the moment. I’m still off. They just wanted to debrief me.”
“Then why don’t you and Fang check it out. It might be a dead-end, but you never know.”
Sherrie smiled. “It would be nice to be doing something rather than just watching it all unfold. And it might help Fang deal with what she must be going through.”
Leroux eyed the apple pie, his stomach begging him to stop. “That sounds like a plan. Do you remember the code to get in?”
“Yes. Let’s hope he didn’t change it.”
“Well, if he did, then that might be a sign in itself.”
Sherrie sighed. “Then let’s hope he didn’t. We need something to break our way soon, otherwise when Bravo Team lands, they’ll be heading directly in to kill him, and there’ll be nothing we can do to stop them.”
Suddenly the pie lost its appeal.
12 |
Top Secret Nuclear Regulatory Commission Facility Outside Seattle, Washington
“Good night, Dr. Burkett.”
He gave the security guard a curt nod. “Good night.” He pushed through the doors, heading into the parking lot. It was still half full, the entire building made up of eggheads working on the energy solutions of the future, some of which included those from the past. Everything from research into how to scrub the carbon out of fossil fuel emissions to mini-nuclear reactors that could power a small community, from solar paint to space mirrors that would focus the sun’s energy onto massive solar farms, and so much more including geoengineering that personally terrified him.
It was one thing to take the carbon out of what man produced, it was a totally different thing to take it from the atmosphere, where mother nature expected it to be.
On paper, his job was to come up with the next generation of large-scale nuclear reactors. Unpopular with those who opposed anything but solar or wind, but the only real solution available to mankind for the next several decades. It was reliable, safe if done properly, and clean if the waste was stored properly. Science would eventually learn how to deal with the downsides. Abandoning the technology because you were afraid of it was foolish. Just look at Germany. A tsunami hits Fukushima in Japan and they abandon nuclear power in a country with almost no coastline and no history of major earthquakes.
And now they burn more coal.
So green.
When he was hired a couple of weeks ago, his supervisor told him it was his job to come up with the next generation of reactors that would settle the fears of the uneducated—a laudable goal.
Though he wouldn’t be the one to accomplish that.
He fished the keys to his car out of his pocket and pressed the fob. The lights flashed on his Buick as the doors unlocked, and he relaxed slightly as yet another day of this existence ended. He couldn’t wait for this to be over. He had been on countless assignments in his career, but this one was as boring as they got.
Nothing ever happened.
All day he simply dodged people, dodged questions, dodged meetings. He eyed the clock until he could escape at the end of the day, and just prayed that whatever happened, no one found out he was a fraud.
It was exhausting.
A van’s engine roared to life as he passed, and several doors opened at once. He tensed slightly as he turned to see four masked men surge toward him, two with Glocks, the other two with Tasers. They fired and the prongs embedded into his chest and every muscle in his body clenched as he shook to the ground. His sphincter muscles released, and he thanked God he had gone to the bathroom just before he left, otherwise a figuratively shitty day would have ended as a literal one.
The Tasers stopped their torture but he continued to shake as they dragged him into the back of the van before it roared away. His mouth was taped and a hood was fitted over his head as duct tape bound his ankles and zip-ties cut into his wrists.
The entire operation took less than thirty seconds.
Pros.
At least it meant his days of faking his way through life were over.
13 |
Kane/Lee Residence, Fairfax Towers Falls Church, Virginia
Lee Fang sat on the couch, staring at the news on mute, her knees drawn up to her chin, her fingers interlocked at her shins. She had been in this position for hours, ever since Sherrie had delivered the news. At first, she had refused to believe what she had been told, but the message Leroux had received was proof that it had happened.
Then she had moved on to his motivation. He had never mentioned anything to her about what he was planning, and they told each other everything. He had to be doing this against his will, and the message was something he had been coerced into sending. Yet Sherrie had described the video of his entry into North Korea, and it certainly didn’t sound forced.
But appearances could be deceiving. She had been in the business, and there was a distinct possibility he still was being forced to do what he was doing. Someone could have blackmailed him into defecting. He might be doing it to save someone by sacrificing himself. He might be using this as an opportunity to gain access to something he might not otherwise be able to.
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