Three Weeks in Washington, page 10
part #3 of Titus Ray Series
“No one’s ever accused him of being inefficient.”
I stole a look at my watch. “I’m on my way to my briefing now, but I still have time to give you a ride home.”
That wasn’t really true, but I couldn’t leave her alone to call a cab.
“No, I’m due for my little chat with the crazy doc in thirty minutes. Once that’s over, I’ll have them call me a cab—unless they think I’m too nuts to be left alone.”
She walked over and sat down on the bed once again.
“Let’s talk about your briefing today. Be sure and question Nolan about the new intel from Syria.”
It took me a second to make the contextual jump over to my upcoming operation, and, when I did, I motioned for her to keep quiet while I walked over and shut the door to the hallway.
Once that was done, I asked, “Are you sure you’re up to talking about this?”
“You think my brain function has been affected just because I got a little emotional? Of course I’m up to discussing this.”
“Okay. What about the new intel from Syria?”
“First of all, you need to know what happened when Rehman Zaidi returned to Damascus after leaving Caracas, because I believe it could affect your run into Buenos Aires. Quiz Nolan about it, because otherwise, I don’t think he’ll mention it at the briefing today.”
Nolan Wilson was the highest-ranking team leader under Olivia’s command, and, like Olivia, he had his own way of approaching an operation. Not surprisingly, he and Olivia had often clashed over the seemingly inconsequential tidbits of intel arriving in the Ops Center daily.
I said, “If you’re talking about Zaidi making contact with the head of Hezbollah when he arrived back in Damascus, Douglas already told me about that.”
She looked surprised. “He told you that before the briefing today?”
I nodded.
“Did he also tell you Marwan Farage was at that meeting with Zaidi?”
I had a momentary brain freeze, but, seconds later, the name clicked with me. “You mean Ahmed’s cousin? That Marwan?”
She nodded. “He was Roberto’s translator when Roberto was in Damascus negotiating the trade deal between Venezuela and Syria.”
“I remember that now; but to answer your question. Douglas didn’t mention they had made contact.”
“That’s probably because Nolan didn’t include that information in his briefing notes.”
“So why is Marwan Farage on your radar?”
“Because we heard from an asset inside Hezbollah that Marwan was angry when he heard Ahmed had been killed. He and Ahmed grew up together, and they were more like brothers than cousins, so he may consider it his duty to locate Roberto Montilla and avenge his cousin’s death.”
“I guess that’s a possibility, but since only a few people at the Agency know where Roberto is right now, Marwan would have a difficult time locating him.”
“Even so, you should have Nolan put a tracker on Marwan’s travels.”
“I’ll request it, but let’s hope you’re wrong about that.”
“I’m seldom wrong about such things.”
She was right about that.
Chapter 14
Traffic was heavy as I made my way over to Langley. I was concerned about getting there in time to meet with Carlton before my ten o’clock briefing.
Five minutes out from Langley, my iPhone rang, and I forgot all about Carlton.
The call was from my nephew, and since he’d never called me before, as soon as I saw the caller ID, I was suddenly worried he might be calling to tell me something was wrong with my sister Carla.
“Hey, Titus, it’s Brian.”
“Hi, Brian. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, no worries. My mom gave me your number because she thought you might be able to help me.”
I relaxed. “Sure. What’s up?”
“When you were here for Grandma’s funeral, I mentioned I was looking for an internship in Washington for the summer.”
Brian was a political science major in his senior year at the University of Michigan, and I vaguely remembered he had talked about doing an internship in Washington.
“I remember. Did you find something?”
“I hope so. Senator Conrad’s office called me yesterday. He’s the junior senator from Michigan, and he wanted to let me know an opening had come up in his office. In order to be considered, I have to have three recommendations, and one of them has to be from someone who holds a position in government. Since you’ve been living in the D.C. area for several years now, I thought you might know someone who could help me.”
Brian sounded nervous, but I realized he might have been anxious about talking to me because the two of us hardly knew each other.
He was the oldest of Carla’s two children. His sister, Kayla, was sixteen, and I thought Brian must be around twenty-one. Despite his age, we’d never had more than a five-minute conversation with each other before.
“I’d be happy to help you, Brian. Is there a form to fill out or would you prefer a letter of recommendation?”
“What I’d really prefer is for you to have the person call Senator Conrad’s office. The opening just came up, and there are two other candidates for the position. His assistant told me he’ll be making his decision tomorrow.”
I pulled up to the front gate of the CIA compound behind a line of cars waiting to be cleared through security. Since I no longer had any kind of Agency ID on me, I knew I’d have to speak to the guard personally, and, in order to do that, I needed to get Brian off the phone as quickly as possible.
“Sure, Brian, I think I know someone who might be able to help you.”
“Really? Are you serious?”
“I’ll get in touch with him today.”
“Well, thanks. When Mom said I should call you, I was a little nervous.”
“I realize we haven’t had much of a chance to talk before.”
The car ahead of me was quickly waved through the gate, and my car was next in line at the guard house. The security officer held out his hand for my ID, but I signaled I needed a minute more on my phone.
He wasn’t happy about that.
Brian said, “No, that’s not it. I think it’s because you’ve always seemed so secretive about your job, I was beginning to believe you weren’t really employed at a think tank and were working at Walmart or something.”
Brian laughed when he said this, and I tried to sound amused at his observation. “I’m sure my job’s not half as interesting as that would be.”
The guard stepped out of the security hut and came over to my car. “Could you hurry up, sir? There are people waiting in line behind you.”
Brian laughed. “Sounds like you might be at work right now.”
“Sorry, Brian, I have to go now, but I’ll get you that recommendation by tomorrow.”
I quickly disconnected the call, and, once the officer found my name on his computer, I was cleared through to the Old Headquarters Building.
However, the moment I parked my car, it suddenly occurred to me what I’d promised Brian.
I realized getting Carlton to change his mind about something might be a whole lot easier than getting that recommendation for Brian.
* * * *
At two o’clock, after Mitchell and I had finished up our initial briefing with the Citadel Protection operations teams, I pulled out of the parking lot at Agency headquarters and drove over to the Russell Senate Office Building on Constitution Avenue in D.C.
During our lunch break, I’d quizzed Mitchell about his father’s schedule, but I’d tried to do it in such a way it would be impossible for him to know I was gathering intel—intel I needed in order to get in to see the Senator about recommending my nephew for a job.
I probably could have asked Mitchell’s help in having a face-to-face meeting with his father, but, as things turned out, it was better he wasn’t involved in the process.
Mitchell said the Senator was due to speak on the Senate floor around one o’clock, and, after that, he expected him to honor his long-standing policy of hosting an open house for his constituents, something Senator Mitchell usually did after delivering a major speech.
The open-house always took place in his suite of offices in the Russell Building, and anyone who resided in his home state of Ohio was welcomed to attend the event.
Although I was from Michigan and not from Ohio, I decided to take the Senator up on his invitation. I didn’t think he’d throw me out if I didn’t meet the criteria. The two states shared a common border, and if he decided to confront me, I’d just say I was being neighborly.
Being neighborly might count for something, but I’d heard what the Senator valued more than anything else was loyalty; specifically, loyalty to him.
Mitchell didn’t know it, but I’d made his father’s acquaintance once, although I wasn’t expecting the man to remember the occasion.
It had taken place several years ago when Carlton and I had attended a classified briefing at the White House. After Carlton had introduced me as a covert intelligence officer, the Senator had referred to me as an agent. Later, when I’d corrected him about his terminology and explained I should be addressed as an officer instead of an agent, he’d let me know he didn’t appreciate being corrected.
Now, as I walked down the hallowed halls of the prestigious Russell Building, I went through some options on how to approach the Senator.
Since I had to leave my weapon in the Range Rover to get through the building’s metal detectors, firepower wasn’t one of those options.
In the end, that turned out to be a good thing.
* * * *
As a ranking member of the U.S. Senate, Senator Mitchell was afforded certain privileges. Among those privileges was a suite of offices on the second floor of the Russell Senate Office Building, complete with opulent furnishings, expensive carpeting, and a magnificent view of the Capitol Building.
As I walked through the door of SR214, I couldn’t help but be impressed by the décor in the Senator’s office. However, what immediately drew my attention was the Senator himself.
He was standing in the middle of a large reception area surrounded by a room full of average-looking Americans.
I planted myself in the middle of the group and listened as the Senator held everyone spellbound by his colorful description of a recent surprise visit he’d made to a small contingent of American troops still left in Afghanistan. He invoked patriotic phrases and paid homage to the sacrifices made by the men and women of our military. He ended his rhetoric by pointing out several of his own achievements in the U. S. Congress.
Once he’d finished charming the group, he invited everyone to enjoy the refreshments he’d provided for them. He also told them to make sure they viewed the artifacts of American history—most of them related to Ohio—on display throughout his office suite.
As the Senator moved among the people, he appeared taller than anyone else in the room. Whether that was true or simply an illusion brought on by the man’s presence, I wasn’t sure. However, with his coal black hair, graying temples, and sharp, aquiline nose, no one could deny he cut an impressive figure.
Before long, he made his way over to where I was standing in front of a portrait of James Findlay. According to a small plaque next to the painting, Findlay had been the mayor of Cincinnati in the early 1800s before becoming a member of Congress.
The Senator gestured toward the portrait. “Now there’s someone I greatly admire.”
“Is that because Findlay was a Congressman who exposed a conspiracy, or do you admire him because he was a man who never failed to turn a tragedy to his own advantage?”
Elijah Mitchell turned away from the portrait and stared at me for several seconds.
“Well, well,” he finally said. “What have we here? Are you a student of history,” the Senator paused a moment and added, “Officer?”
I tried not to look too surprised he’d recognized me.
“Only as it relates to keeping our country safe. I know Findlay helped thwart the Burr Conspiracy, which would have been disastrous for our country, but, at the same time, his actions also made him so well known he was able to get himself elected to public office. It’s easy to see why you admire the man, Senator. His story is much like your own.”
He smiled a politician’s smile. “You seem to know Ohio’s history pretty well. I didn’t realize you were one of my constituents, Officer.”
“Oh, I’m not. I’m from Michigan. I hope you won’t hold that against me.”
His smile faded a bit, and, after a quick glance around the room, he leaned in toward me and asked, “Am I to assume your visit here is not a social call?”
“That’s correct, Senator. To be honest, it’s not exactly a professional visit either. Is it possible for us to speak somewhere in private? I promise I won’t take up too much of your valuable time.”
After a moment’s hesitation, the Senator crooked his finger and said, “Follow me.”
Before leaving the room, I saw him gesture at one of his staffers. I didn’t know whether this gesture was some sort of secret signal telling the staffer to contact the Capitol police, or whether he was telling the staffer to do the meet and greet without him.
I knew the DDO wouldn’t be pleased if it were the former.
Seconds later, the Senator led me through an unmarked door, down a narrow passageway, and through a second door into his private office. He gestured over at two high-backed chairs positioned across from each other and invited me to have a seat.
As soon as we sat down, he immediately took charge of the conversation. “Now, tell me, Officer, what can I do for you?”
“First of all, Senator, my real name is Titus Ray. Since I know you have the nation’s highest security clearance, and you already know I work for the CIA, I don’t believe I’m breaking any rules by giving you my real name.” I handed him my CIS business card. “My Career Legend identifies me as a Senior Fellow with CIS in Maryland.”
He glanced at the card and then he offered me his hand. “I’m happy to put a name with that face. Does your presence here have anything to do with my son Ben? He’s also an intelligence operative, but, to be truthful, I’ve been trying to get him to reconsider that decision.”
“No, sir, my visit has nothing to do with your son. But, just out of curiosity, why would you want him to quit the Agency?”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t necessarily want him to quit the Agency. He can stay on at the CIA, but I believe he’s better suited to a desk job. I know my son, and he’s like his old man. He knows how to manage a crisis and solve problems. Running a desk at the Agency makes more sense for him.”
“You don’t believe those skills are necessary to manage an asset or penetrate a terrorist cell?”
He chuckled. “Now don’t take what I said personally. I’m sure you’re very good at what you do. If you weren’t, the DDO wouldn’t have allowed you to be in the Situation Room during the Mumbai crisis. But, like I said, I know my son. I’m aware of his weaknesses as well as his strengths.”
“Would you consider his inability to hold his emotions in check a weakness?”
He smiled. “I see you do know my son.”
“I’m well acquainted with Ben.”
“You’ve worked with him?”
I nodded. “I specifically requested he be assigned as one of the principals on Operation Clear Signal. I was the primary on that mission.”
While the rest of the Senator’s face remained impassive, his eyes widened. “Is that so? Well, congratulations on a job well done. This world’s a whole lot safer without that terrorist in it.”
“The skills your son brought to the table during that mission helped put Ahmed Al-Amin in his grave.”
The Senator’s features suddenly hardened, and I could hear the anger in his voice. “So you’re contradicting my assessment of my own son?”
“No. What I’m saying is that I believe Ben has all the necessary skills to develop into an excellent covert operative, despite his weaknesses. Don’t discount your son because of those weaknesses, Senator. No one’s perfect, not even you.”
The Senator tensed up immediately, and I realized I’d allowed the meeting to get off track. To make matters worse, I wasn’t sure how to get it back on course again.
However, the Senator had no such difficulty.
“What are you doing here, Titus? I trust you didn’t come here just to insult me.”
“No, sir. I came here to ask you for a favor. Insulting you was never my intention.”
He appeared amused at my answer. “So, what’s the favor? How can I help you?”
I had the feeling he didn’t mind granting favors, and, even though I thought I knew why, I asked him anyway.
“My nephew, Brian Simpson, is a political science major at the University of Michigan, and he’s applied for an internship in Senator Conrad’s office. He needs a recommendation from someone in government service, and I was wondering if you’d mind putting in a good word for him. I can vouch for the guy.”
The Senator got up and walked over to his desk. “What kind of student is he? What’s his grade point average?”
I had no idea, but I took a stab at it. “Uh ... he’s a straight A student.”
“What’s his name again?”
He scribbled Brian’s name down on a notepad and asked some more questions about him.
I made up some more answers.
Finally, he walked back over to his chair and sat down.
He smiled at me. “I’ll call Pete Conrad tonight. He owes me a few favors, so you can tell your nephew he’ll be offered the position.”
“Thanks, Senator. I really appreciate your help.”
He nodded. “I’m glad I could help out, Titus, but I’ve always believed one good turn deserves another, and I’m asking you to remember that if you’re paired up with my son on any future operations. I think all Ben needs is a little encouragement, and he’d be willing to ask for a transfer to an analyst position. If that encouragement were to come from another operative, say someone like yourself, I’m sure it would carry a lot of weight with him.”
