James Timothy Henson, who went by Tim to avoid all the jibes about Muppets, was the Deputy Director of NSA. He had been briefed by the duty officer and he had in turn thought it important enough to contact the Director of NSA, Marvin Gibson.
Even though the NSA had no charter to get directly involved in domestic terrorism unless there was a special congressional finding giving them permission for specific operations the NSA was unofficially involved in almost everything foreign and domestic. Like the feeling in the CIA with the fall of the USSR, there was a real feeling of insecurity going around about employment futures. As any good business in a tight economy would do, you looked for some other needed field to expand into where you might be able to provide a very unique product. The NSA operated as the eyes and ears of the United States but never got the credit they deserved. They were working hard to change their image. They wanted to become more visible so the people would really understand why they needed those billions of dollars with no explanation as to where the money went every year. So, when the possibility of domestic terrorism reared its ugly head, the NSA would take the opportunity to come to the rescue. The protocol ordinarily would be to contact the FBI liaison officer and give the FBI the information to act on and choose a path of response. This gave the FBI the opportunity to show how great their detective abilities were when in actuality, the NSA was the only reason they were effective in any intelligence intercept arena.
The situation today however was different than any opportunity that had taken place before. The key players of the FBI had been taken completely by surprise on this operation as had the NSA. This meant there were no leaks that had given the FBI a heads up nor had any informants come forward and warned them about a pending operation. Here was a chance to demonstrate to the White House who really should be one of the leaders on the domestic issues of security. This might be an opportunity to really let some blood in the water of Washington politics that was a constant battle between the alphabet agencies constantly vying for more funds. The Director decided to bypass the FBI and go right to the White House Security Advisor or the President’s Chief of Staff and deal direct. It was time to get some brownie points. When the Director made contact with the
President’s Security Advisor, he had by then received a couple more quick briefings from the duty officer resulting from other intercepted communications and he passed it on. The Security Advisor had given the Director the obligatory “Excellent job, it won’t be forgotten” speech. When asked if the President would be advised the S.A. simply said “The President is presently entertaining company from what I understand.” It was no secret in the inner circles of Washington that with the First Lady away most of the time doing her own thing, the President did a lot of “entertaining” “As soon as he is through I will brief him. Keep in touch.”
While Henson was engaged in conversation with the Director, the GOD duty officer, Bill Watson, was placing an innocuous looking floppy disc that had been taped to the underside of a file cabinet drawer into the disc slot of the only computer connected to a secure line that would take outgoing traffic. All the other lines were for inbound feeds only. The computer was used for various functions including normal channel information sharing between agencies of a nature that while secret, was not end of the world type secrets. There was nothing unusual about chatter between agencies since it was all monitored by other folks further up the food chain. Watson had used the disc and program before. He punched in the 14 character alpha numeric password. Watson had to be careful about entering the code, because one misplaced number or letter would result in the disc automatically erasing itself, rendering it useless. This coding sequence also made it impossible to crack through any known means at the time. What the software program did was present a false front display to any computer that could be monitoring the sending computer. To anyone who was in a position to monitor the proceedings, it appeared that Watson was running a basic dialogue and systems check and it was addressed to all the agencies in the intelligence community loop for them to respond to the receipt of the message. This was a semi regular routine function check through one of the dedicated servers, and if asked to print what was being typed, that was what would be printed. What was happening though was that while the monitor and printer would represent one thing, what was actually going out was something else entirely different. The same false sequence would be showing up on a monitor if the line was being monitored anywhere in the NSA itself if it was not running the same encryption program. What was actually being sent out was what was being typed on the keyboard and not what was appearing on the monitor. The real message was being hidden in all the electronic chatter and only decipherable if you had the same disc program running at the other end of the line. Watson finished running the information about the sit rep in Michigan and what was known then pulled the disc and replaced it under the file cabinet. Before Watson had even removed his fingers from the keyboard to remove the disc, his real message had been received at the dedicated destination computer, of his other off the books employer. The duty officer there reached for the phone and got another Deputy Director on the line. This one however was located in Langley, Virginia, at CIA headquarters.
CHAPTER 15
The stepladder was where the voice said it would be. Trooper Johnson placed it in the back of Sgt. Smith’s personal pickup and once again Messler, Maxwell and Palmer went to the truck. They wondered what the purpose of all this was when they still had heard nothing of a demand of any kind. The ladder was placed on the driver’s side because of the earlier description given by Manny just before his went lights out. The first one up the ladder was Palmer. He also had the video camera with him. What he saw was a home-made control panel out of sheet metal that had 30 switches with indicator lights of green and red, all the lights that were lit were red colored. There was a large digital clock mounted on the control panel. It was showing 7:00 even though it was only about 8:00AM. Palmer started video taping the interior and describing the view to Messler and Maxwell. As he got to the part about the clock, it started running….backwards. It wasn’t a clock, it was a count down timer and it was now running. Palmer told the two about the situation when the loudspeaker kicked in. “Now it gets interesting....We will play what you Americans call the game of "chicken". At the same time the message was being blasted over the PA system, the police radio beeped out the letter "G" 3 times.
They returned to the post and told the rest of the men about the voice, the control panel and the interior of the truck as well as the count down clock. The tractor interior was described as the video tape was being set up in the tape player, but for the time being no one was interested in watching the show. The conversation was about the count down timer and the possible significance was not lost on the officers. The phone rang and Phelps answered it. It was the unknown voice. “Now that we have your attention, you will be required to deposit one hundred million US dollars into an account you will be given later. You Americans have always bragged how your country has all the wealth, it is now time to give some to the oppressed peoples of the world. You will be contacted where the money is to be deposited later. IF you do not respond in agreement in a timely matter the price will continue to rise,” then the connection was broken. Again because of the brevity of the call there could be no trace.
As they were discussing the phone call one of the others advised Maxwell,
Messler and Palmer that another Morse code signal tone was broadcast while they were at the truck. Smith rewound the system and played the code for them. This time there was no unison response, as Palmer said "G" Maxwell said “****!” Messler looked at him and asked what was it? "B" "E" "G". Palmer let loose with a very unprofessional “Dammit!” “What” demanded Phelps as he looked at the two of them. Palmer deferred to Maxwell since he caught it first. “B.E.G." stands for the Black Eagle Group, a very secretive shadowy mix of different nationalist zealots that is a terrorist organization, primarily German based. They have always been alleged to have some sort of tie in with the RAF or Red Army Faction.
On November 30, 1989 the RAF exploded a small back pack bomb that almost cut an armored Mercedes Benz limousine in half. They took about 40 pounds of TNT and put it in a back pack with a copper plate weighing about 23 pounds in front of it. When the bomb was detonated the copper plate took off like a very big bullet traveling at a velocity of approximately 8,000 feet per second. It punched through the car like a knife, killing its intended target, Alfred Herrhausen, then president of the Dueutsche Bank. The bomb was set off by using an infra red beam to trigger the device. It was the first documentation of such a device and trigger being used by a terrorist group. It was very high tech and very sophisticated. The actual bombers were never captured. The buzz around the intelligence communities was that the bomb had actually been made by an armorer for the BEG but no one was ever able to prove anything. They have never been known to operate outside of central or Eastern Europe though. I’ve never heard of them being in the Unite States before”. Half way through Max's explanation a flash of memory hit Palmer as he went back 30 years in time. His head snapped around and he caught Maxwell looking straight at him as their eyes met. He remembered where he had seen the Chief before. He also remembered the package he made for him. With almost imperceptible nods, they acknowledged and saluted each other. They could never admit it happened. All information about the mission was still classified. Manny was the first to speak up, he didn't get it. “So, what does that have to do with this?” Palmer looked at him and said “Imagine the semi is the back pack. Now think of all those charges on top of those plates. Now do you get it?” From the look on his face Manny got it. “Palmer, think of something and get started on it” said Phelps, “I don’t know what you can do but we have about 6 1/2 hours to do it in”.
As the group started to break up Poloski looked at Maxwell and asked “how does a small town chief know so much about a foreign terrorist group that is so obscure as this BEG group and why would you know so much?” It was clear Poloski was fishing for something. Maxwell looked at him, gave a slow smile and then shook his head and then looked Poloski right in the eyes and said “You don’t have the security clearance for me to give you that answer.” Everyone stared at him as he left the room, only Palmer knew what he meant.
CHAPTER 16
Once again, the NSA super computer that had been slaved to monitor activities in the Michigan Straits had finally put together bits it had been storing. The system was aware of the Morse code transmissions by the monitoring system grabbing all the signals out of the air. Because it was just one letter at first, it found nothing in it's program that indicated threat but because it was a single event anomaly it was not forgotten. When the second letter was signaled, it followed the same sequence of analyze and store. With literally millions of words or acronyms the letters B and E could have been a part of, again it just stored the information until something in it's programming made sense of it all. When the third letter G was transmitted the computer joined the letters together and immediately came up with an acronym that it recognized. It compared it to a list of known threat words that when it made a match immediately shunted the whole thing over to the controller’s desk for the human to view and deal with. As the little alert beep notified the supervisor of new intel he scrolled it up on his screen. He saw the letters BEG with a notice asterisk next to it. He didn't recognize the significance of the letters, but that was not unusual since there were about one hundred and ninety thousand alert acronyms that the computer would flag. For all he knew the letters BEG meant a husband was trying to get some from his wife.
He turned to a different computer at the side of his desk and plugged the letters into the Windows program that had been developed for the query system. When the enter button was hit his screen filled with all the known information on anything that could possibly involve the letters BEG from a threat stand point. There were only two entries for BEG. One involved a long time training facility located hard up against the Ural Mountains in the old Soviet Union. The KGB used the location to train operatives in how to live in the United States without giving themselves away. The mini town didn't officially have a name and never appeared on any maps except those made from satellite fly over. In order to have some way of referring to the place some unknown picture analyst had penned the name BEG next to it on the pictures. His explanation was, "Had to give it some name and everyone begged to go there because it meant they would be sent to the United States."
The next entry was a very dark description of a terrorist organization known as the Black Eagle Group. The NSA dossier said the organization was dangerous, ruthless but above all very capable of technical efficiency that would leave most of the other mouth breather terrorist groups just gaping at their sophistication. One of their signature trademarks was to leave a calling card of sorts of their initials at every operation. Sometimes it was as obvious as a graffiti type paint tag on a wall. Sometimes it was so subtle the investigators weren't sharp enough to find the clues. From what the duty man had detected he knew this had to be the group that was behind what was going on in Michigan and it would not be a group to mess with. He stood up to stretch his legs from his long sit at the desk and punched up the Deputy Director's extension.
Henson was just settling back into his comfortable chair after having a snack at the executive dining room. When you were that high up the food chain you didn't eat with the peasants. He had just picked up his coffee when his phone buzzed. He punched it up onto the speaker phone since he was alone in the office and answered. When he identified the caller, he sat back in his chair and asked "What's up?" He was just starting to take a drink when the duty officer said "Sir, I think we have identified the group with the truck in Michigan, it looks like it's the Black Eagle Group." As the words registered the DD promptly spit his coffee all over his beautiful teak desk the taxpayers had paid for. He choked and sounded like he had swallowed the wrong way. He finally gasped out "What did you say?" The duty man responded "There has been some kind of Morse code being beeped out from the semi. Each time something happens up there relating to the vehicle or instructions, a new letter is coded out. The first letter was a "B" the second was an "E" and it just now coded out a "G". The computer caught it and forwarded it to me and I am passing it on to you. Are you OK sir?"
The DD cleared his throat and told the duty officer "You are to seal all the communications regarding the BEG computer information find and that no one, except me and the Director and you are to know anything about them until cleared by me or the Director and that is done personally, do you understand how serious this is?" The duty man really didn't. In the NSA even the janitors knew secrets the old Soviet Union would have paid fortunes for. He had never heard of such a reaction in his 20 years on the job. Something really big was taking place or something really wrong was happening. But in a place where people who were thought a threat had lots of life ending interesting accidents, it was best to keep those thoughts really private and to himself. "Yes sir" he replied, nothing gets out of system unless you or the Director personally OK it. Just one problem though, my relief officer is due in two hours, he has to be brought up to speed." "Lock him out", was the reply. "From this point on you are to consider yourself and the facility at Mirror 2". The Deputy Director's words had barely been spoken when the duty officer found his knees going on him and he had to sit down. He was stunned.
Mirror conditions were used to establish protocols within the Agency for war time conditions. It seemed too dramatic to use the term Defcon, which is short for Defense Condition, as the Pentagon and every B movie did. Each time the pentagon raised or lowered the Defcon status changes in our defense preparedness took us closer to war or further away from war. The lower the number the closer to the United States would come to total Armageddon. The NSA had its own way of taking care of itself in the same way. Each time the Defcon changed the NSA would adopt protocols that reflected the change in Defense posture. Since the NSA's response mirrored the actions of the military, the name given to those particular protocols was Mirror, with the appropriate number for the condition.
The duty man cleared his throat, and asked "Sir, did I hear you correctly? I am to now enact Mirror 2 protocol?" the response was a simple "Yes". The duty man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his own personal pocket tape recorder and turned it on, being very glad that there were no surveillance cameras in his work area. He continued, "Sir, there is no national threat present in any of the analysis at the present time. The military is presently at Defcon 4. This is not within our protocol to be out of line with the Defcon status. Can you clarify that for me?" The Deputy Director thought frantically. Being out of protocol, even at his direction with his level of authority would definitely call for an investigation, but he could handle that, so long as he could make sure all the potential leaks could be controlled, meaning eliminated by some of the contract problem removers on the payroll if necessary.
He finally said "You are not aware of the totality of what is happening. Even we don't get everything. I have received word from a foreign contact that this may be a distraction to take our eyes away from what really is the target, a biological attack on D.C. But without more proof or information we can't give an alarm. However, I am not willing to take that kind of chance that some of the staff may already be unwitting carriers. Do you understand? All the other critical agencies are already buttoning down also to protect themselves" The duty man knew he was being given a line, but with his own tape of the conversation he would be protecting his butt, and besides if the old man was right, he just might be saving his life. The duty man responded "Yes sir, I am going to go into Mirror 2. Will you be making the notification to all the required departments?" The DD said "Yes, proceed to Mirror 2 with contact only with me or the Director."
The duty officer had read about going to Mirror 2 before. He had to be familiar with the procedure even though it had never been done in all his years at NSA. He had talked to some of the old timers who were there long before he arrived and they had recounted the tension and response during the Cuban missile crisis. That was the last time anyone had ever enacted Mirror 2. He walked over to the 4 inch thick combination glass and steel doors and reached up and threw a switch that killed the power to the openers and the coded recognition system that allowed access to the room. It also killed the power to the vault like elevator doors that was the only easy way to get to the bottom floor. The only other way was to get access through a stair well, heavily guarded by people who were told only God and the Director were allowed to use the stairs, and when in doubt they were to stop God. Now the only way someone could get in was to blast or cutting torches. Unauthorized attempts at entry would be hindered by the myriad of gas and shocking devices built into the protection system. If breaching of the doors was eminent then machine guns mounted in the ceiling would open up on anyone outside the doors. God only knows what would really happen if they were breached when Mirror 2 was in effect. He had heard stories of explosives being placed under the floors to destroy the systems to keep them from being compromised. Of course anyone in the room wouldn't fare well either.
The next thing he had to do was switch over the air circulation system to one that was specially designed for filtering and recycling everything coming into the room. As well as having its own completely enclosed and sealed environment, the basement complex for the GOD project was a self sustaining world of its own. The basement had its own sleeping, bath and living facilities for long stays without personnel changes and enough food and water to keep several people going for a month. He had completely isolated himself firm in the knowledge that the building was going through the same lock down and protection procedures, not realizing that his world was the only one following Mirror 2 protocol. Under Mirror 2, no communications would come into him through any source but the GOD computers and the only safe completely secure line that would now function. The only way anyone could call in now was to have access to the special code-phones located in the Director’s and Deputy Director’s offices and even then, they would only function if a daily changed 6 digit code was punched in before the beginning of usage of the phone. The only people who had those code numbers were the DD and the Director.
The next thing Watson did was to go to the arms locker and remove the Beretta Model 92, 9mm pistol that was located in a locked gun box. He took the locker key from his key chain and opened the box, took the pistol out and checked it to see if it was still loaded and functional. Satisfied that it was he took it and put it on his desk along with the mandatory extra magazine holding another 15 rounds of the Federal 124 grain hardball ammunition. It seemed odd he thought. If anyone was going to get to him, they would have had to have fought a major battle with the NSA security details as well as the extra help that could be summoned through the local authorities. If who ever was coming managed to get through all that plus the security devices, what in hell did they expect him to accomplish with his little 9mm pistol? Oh well, it was going to make for an interesting day.
The last thing he was going to do was send off a message re- the Mirror situation. He retrieved the disc program from under the file drawer and started what would be his last communication regarding informing his CIA contact about the BEG and the bio threat and to wish them well on the other end. Before he could disconnect, his computer received the flash back "WHAT THREAT?!" followed by a brief message that nothing of any threat nature had been received today at their end and that all was going as usual. Followed by the question, "What was intel source?" Watson, taken back, thought about it and replied one word, "Henson". A response of "Re-contact 10 minutes" was received then communications was disconnected.
Watson was in a quandary. If indeed the world was going to Hell, the use of the communication computer would be a serious violation of Mirror 2 protocol, BUT, if the DD was running some kind of game and he was being set up for the patsy, he also needed to know that. The downside of the one was that he could be demoted or even fired. The downside of the other is that he could be dead or disappeared.
Henson now had to keep everything about the GOD project going Mirror 2 under wraps. He punched in the head of NSA’s on site security detail, William Roby, and told the unit chief that he was running a protocol/ops test. Roby was aware that this was a serious breech in standard operational procedures for any test situations and advised Henson so. He immediately questioned the DD about it. “Sir, you know that the SOP for any protocol or operational testing is to give written 24 hour notice to the security department so that adequate adjustments can be made to safeguard the complex when there is radical change in operational procedures. This will possibly compromise the security of the complex.” Henson was ready, “Relax Will it is only for Level 13. There has never been one for them at the level I want to test. Also, with Level 13 going to a different operational level, it will have no effect on the operational situation of the rest of the complex. In fact that is just what I want to see, if the area is indeed secure and see if the operational change in that one compartment will have any effect on any other part that is still running under normal standards. After all it is Level 13.” And he just let it hang there.
Roby was the person in charge of the entire security for one of the most important installations in the United States, yet, even he had never been able to gain access to Level 13. If you looked at the elevator banks you would find no floor button indicating a 13th floor. If you looked at personnel directories that indicated what floor people worked on, there would be no Level 13 listed. He had even gone so far as to go outside and count the floors by windows just to make sure of how many floors there really were at NSA headquarters. All he knew was that what was referred to as Level 13 was the very bottom floor of the building, as far away from prodding microwave and other electronic penetration any agency or government could use or try to use to get information by means of high tech snooping.
To his own personal knowledge he knew that out of the thousands of NSA employees there were only at best 50 employees who had ever worked and still work at Level 13. That included systems maintenance personnel, computer technicians, anti bugging sweepers and system operators. They would wait until they could get on the elevator alone, and then they would disappear for anywhere from 4-12 hours then magically appear later to end their day. He had watched this procedure for years. He couldn’t even get clearance to ride the elevator with them as they disappeared into the depths of the building. Protocol/ops testing could be anything from just a shutdown of the department for the purpose of scanning for bugs to gearing up for a nuclear exchange. For all he knew at Level 13 they might have to debug and reboot what ever computers they have down there and just didn’t want to be disturbed for several hours, not that anyone could actually disturb them in their highly guarded hole in the ground. The DD was right. Any protocol testing going on at Level 13 would have little or no noticeable effect on operations. In fact, probably half the hires in the last 5 years didn’t even know there was a Level 13 group in the building. Roby said “I guess your right sir, a protocol test at Level 13 will have no effect on the rest of the operation. Can I ask what kind of protocol or systems test you are having them run, just in case anyone asks?” Henson simply replied “Sorry chief, you don’t need to know.”
Next he got on the phone and contacted Watson’s relief man. He told the man that he was holding over Watson for some minor testing procedures and that he didn’t want to have to break up the testing in mid stream, and gave him the day off, saying he would cover his time for his pay, and to be sure and stay out of the building because the bean counters would just scream if they got wind of someone getting an extra vacation day off the books. The only thing left to do now, he thought would be to get a hold of the Director, personally and in a way that couldn’t be compromised or eavesdropped on.
He punched up the intercom to his secretary and said,” I need to find the Director, or find out where he is going to be and I need it right now! If he is at the White House with the President I don't care, I have to talk to him immediately.” While he was waiting for the Director to be found, his secretary buzzed him and said "Sir, Bruce McArthur is on the line for you ."Henson panic subsided briefly and it was turned to joyful glee. He told her to put the call through.
McArthur was a long time golfing buddy and belonged in the "community" as the intelligence folks referred to each other. He was sure Bruce was calling to get a chance to get even from their last golf game 3 days ago. "Gotta give him credit, he was always in there trying but he just never seemed to play well enough to beat me.” The last game was really close with just one stroke difference between them. "Hey Bruce," he started, "what can I do for you?" Bruce replied, "Well, I have this opening on my calendar today, and since there doesn't seem to be anything better to do right now, how about joining me for a rematch, say, we double the usual?" "Oh man, what a time for this chance" thought Henson, "but there was no way he could leave with what was going on in Michigan." He stalled him off, "uh, look Bruce, I'd love to, but I need to get some stuff cleared up around here. If it works out maybe later this afternoon we can go hit some and I can finish collecting on that boat you're paying for" he said with a cackling laughter in his voice. Bruce then asked, "You aren't hanging around because of that thing going on in Michigan are you?" Henson asked why. Then Bruce continued, "Well it's really a little outside of our areas of operation. I mean, c'mon it's not like we were under a threat of war or something. That is why we have juniors, so we can serve the people better by staying relaxed at our golf games." He laughed as he finished his statement.
Henson blew off the Michigan situation with a " Naw, what the hell would we have to do with that. Haven't you heard, the FBI will soon be on the case so the world is saved for us mortals." They both laughed again. McArthur then said "They are? Man your intel is better then mine. I thought the locals were handling that. I didn't know any of the team Fed were even suited up for the game let alone on the field. What is it, a church or a nursery?" Henson laughed with Bruce then continued, "Well no, they really aren't yet. You know how they get anymore when the T word is a possibility. Besides after Ruby and Waco they gotta grasp for redemption somewhere. I figure it won't be long before someone figures their world won't turn without the big federal machine there to put the gas in the machine. Me, I'm just am a little behind with the paperwork from the long weekend. I really will try to get out this afternoon but I don't know." "Well, OK," said McArthur, "but I'll keep the rest of the afternoon open just in case. Oh, and by the way, the pro shop called and my new driver is in and I will really thrash you soundly with the awesome power it will bestow upon my classic swing". They both laughed. It was a standard line he used every time he picked up some new wonder club that would make up for the difference in their skill levels. They both said they would talk later and broke the connection. "Man," thought Henson, "what I wouldn't give to be in his job. Here there is some kind of **** going on right under his nose up North and he either doesn't know or doesn't care. Some times ya gotta wonder just what does a Deputy Director at the CIA really do?"
Watson re-contacted the CIA computer and their duty man. The response burst back simply. "no threat, rest of Agency normal, WHY M2 you ?" Watson sent back "?" then broke off. One thing he knew for sure now, was that the DD was playing some kind of game, and that there was a real good chance he would wind up on the endangered species list if he wasn't careful from now on.
Henson finally raised the Director. "What kind of phone are you on" he asked. Gibson responded, "I'm on the main switchboard at the White House, why". Henson said it was imperative they meet face to face immediately. He told Gibson to meet him at the South gate to the White house in 10 minutes. Gibson asked him how in the hell he thought he would make it in ten minutes when at the best of times it would take 20 minutes in week day traffic. He simply said “I'll be there.”
Henson went to the top floor of the NSA building and there waiting was a DC police helicopter. He had called DC Metropolitan police and told them there was a national crisis and he needed to get to the White House ASAP. The White House air space was so restricted even if the United States was on the brink of war the DC police copter couldn't land there without fear of the Secret Service shooting it down with a Stinger. Instead the helicopter then proceeded to the DC police station where he caught a marked car to run lights and siren to the White House. He made it in 11 minutes and Gibson watched him arrive. They entered the grounds and found a quiet corner out of the way of prying ears and bugging equipment.
Gibson demanded to know what was so urgent that all these power moves had to be made. Henson swallowed hard and said "It looks like the Black Eagle Group is involved in the Michigan thing." You're crazy" exclaimed Gibson, "they don't ****ing exist and you know it." Henson continued. "What happened was the letters BEG were transmitted from the truck on the Mackinaw Bridge in Morse code. The threat computer picked up the acronym and plugged it to the group. I isolated all the intelligence by having the GOD section go to Mirror 2 but I don't know how long we can keep the lid on it. Do you have something going on I'm not aware of, because I really need to know." Gibson just stared at his Deputy then responded "Hell no I don't have any kind of op going that you wouldn't know about. And I certainly wouldn't stage something using a group that we invented. Are you crazy?" Gibson continued, " How in the hell did that name get involved with this and are there any operations someone else is running that may mean enemy action against us? If the truth about what we did gets out we'll both die in prison then still have to sit there for another hundred years. See what you can find out and I'll do what I can here with the President. It seems we're the only game in town right now and we should have some leeway and time to trouble shoot if we have to. Get back to the office and stay there. If you need to call me call me on the blue phone. It should be secure enough since we are the only ones who have cracked the encryption as far as we know. We are going to have to find someone outside the Agency to take the hit on this one and make sure it works." Henson headed back to his office.
STRAITS RED chapters 14-17
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