Decency (35 page)

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Authors: Rex Fuller

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BOOK: Decency
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The dismissed members filed out knowing they had provided exactly what the Director wanted, straight, clear, plain, god-awful truth.

When they were gone, the Director picked up his secure phone. On one line, he dialed the Attorney General. On another, he dialed Senator Charboneaux. The Senator did not answer.

“John Corrigan.” The Attorney General’s voice came through the background hiss of the secure line.

“John, Chet McKenna. We don’t have it. Low probability we’ll find it.”

“Chet, hang on, let’s get CIA on.”

A distant phone rang in the Director’s ear.

“Mandy Matthews.”

“Mandy, John Corrigan. I have Chet McKenna on conference with us.”

Matthews was the Deputy Director of the Central Intelligence Agency, the highest ranking woman in the Intelligence Community.

“Good morning to you both.”

“Mandy, I guess you’re answering for Hardesty because he’s out. Did you get the package we sent on the possible FBI mole at NSA?”

“About thirty minutes ago.”

“Mandy, neither NSA nor Justice, including the FBI, can definitely prove right now the agent acted for China or anyone else for that matter. I doubt you’ll have anything either.”

“We’ve started looking. But I agree.”

“Mandy, the motion was filed in the open. The agent learned yesterday from the lawyer he was suspected and will know soon enough that we suspect him, even assuming he doesn’t now. I’m going to call the President and recommend that he authorize us to take intelligence gathering steps to get the proof, and if we don’t, to arrest Fitzgerald and work it as a law enforcement matter. Do you concur?”

“Yes, of course.”

“All right, hold on.”

Corrigan dialed the secure communications switchboard at the White House.

The unfailingly smooth, modulated, pleasant operator came on. “White House.”

“This is the AG for the President.”

“Yes, Mr. Corrigan.”

“Chet, while we’re waiting, did you try Jean Charboneaux?”

“Yes, he didn’t…”

“John, Craig Horton. We’re over Alabama. He’s on the phone with Treasury. Can it wait?” Craig Horton, the White House Chief of Staff, was the only other person with authority to answer the President’s secure phone.

“No, Craig.”

Horton knew Corrigan never, ever pressed for attention to his issues. He wanted to be able to say, “Now,” and have people believe him. That fact alone put concern in the President’s voice when he came on the line.

“Is it serious, John?”

“I believe so, Mr. President. I have Mandy at CIA and Chet at NSA on the line with us.”

“Good morning, folks.”

“Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning, Mr. President.”

“Sir, a motion was filed this morning in Baltimore federal court. It was filed publicly. It persuasively demonstrates that an FBI agent, named Fitzgerald, detailed to NSA, has for several years worked as mole for China. However, none of our agencies can prove it conclusively. I am requesting your authority to proceed with any necessary intelligence efforts to obtain the proof. We will use communications resources and personnel in China. If we do not succeed we will arrest Fitzgerald and proceed with law enforcement efforts.”

“Does State know?”

“No, sir.”

“I’ll tell them here on the plane. John, do it. Do it fast. And do it right.”

“Thank you, sir. We will.”

“Keep me posted.”

“Will do, sir.”

The disconnecting “ping” from the President’s line echoed.

“Mandy, Chet, I’ve got FBI and Criminal Division with me now. Let’s put them and unit representatives you have on speakers so we only have to say this once.”

“I have Far East Operations and Counterintelligence joining…and they’re on…now.”

“NSA Operations and Legal are on with me…now.”

“Folks this is Attorney General John Corrigan. The President authorized intelligence efforts to nail down the FBI mole. If needed, we’ll just go with law enforcement.”

“Mandy, can you let me know within, say, two hours what your assets in China can find?”

“I’ll get back sooner.”

“Chet, two hours enough for your Ops folks to ring the bell on the Chinese?”

“Doing it will take less. If we don’t get a response by then we’ll have to assume we won’t get anything.”

“Fair enough. I’ve already directed surveillance on Fitzgerald to start. Haven’t confirmed where he is yet.”

“John, he hasn’t come into NSA.”

“Let’s go with that. Two hours from now, that’s twelve noon, we conference again. Chet, would you have one of your legal folks work directly with FBI Counterintelligence on all of your records of Fitzgerald. Between the two we should have plenty of criminal evidence, even if it’s only false official statements. No matter what, is 4:00 p.m. too late for a drop dead time for the arrest?”

“Fine by CIA. I’m hanging up.”

“Chet, all right to leave Senator Charboneaux to you?”

“Sure.”

“Talk to you at noon.”

The line to the speakerphone in the SCIF disconnected with a loud “ping.”

“Ops, build a couple of messages to the Chinese based on what we can see in our data about what such messages would look like. The first one should say something like, ‘Operation compromised. Request instructions. Reply immediate. Green Lilly.’

“The second should be along the lines of, ‘Departure for China required. Request immediate instruction. Green Lilly.’

“You approve the exact text. I don’t need to see it. Just get back to me in an hour forty five or sooner.”

“Angela Bonafacio will be our lawyer working with FBI.”

“Good, let’s go catch him.”

As they left they overheard the Director speak into his intercom.

“Security.”

“Here, sir.”

“I want you personally to take a detail of armed guards to Dr. Cochran’s workspace. Don’t allow him to touch anything. Bring him directly to me in my office.”

Nine minutes later Cynthia Overstreet, the head of Security, led three armed Army members from the Central Security Service accompanying Dr. Cochran straight into the Director’s office.

Seeing them, the Director stood and came around his desk. He approached Dr. Cochran with the intensity of a stalking cat, stopped with his torso one foot from that of the now quivering psychologist, and slowly addressed him in a calm voice that could be heard the next floor down.

“Dr. Cochran, do not speak, sir. You have betrayed every ethical standard required of you. In doing so, you have damaged your country and tarnished this agency and its people. I am ashamed of you. Your services are terminated.

“Guards, maintain custody of him until you deliver him to the FBI. Now go.”

 

Aboard Air Force One the President said, “Craig, get me briefed up on the background of the FBI mole case as fast as you can, but not later than, say…3:00.”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

23

 

The ringing in Kelly’s ear just would not shut up. On the fifth ring, or the twelfth, or, Jesus, all right, she remembered the cell phone next to her on the pillow. She fumbled with it and grogged out, “Hello…”

“Ms. Hawkins?”

“Ye…excuse me. Yes.”

“This is Carly Bennett in Judge Reichardt’s chambers.”

“Oh…of course, Mrs. Bennett.”

“Judge Reichardt will hear your motion in his courtroom either this afternoon at 1:00 or next Monday at 9:00. Do you have a preference?”

“Yes, definitely. This afternoon.”

“Very well. We will see you then.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Bennett.”

“You’re welcome.”

…ahh this hurts…let’s see…think…call Bonnie…she can get Mason…the Richardsons… who…Jannie…okay, get moving…1:00 is in…just over two hours!!…Bonnie’s cell phone is…

She pulled up Bonnie in her contacts and hit it.

Seven rings later… “Huh…lo.”

“I hope I didn’t sound that bad when Judge Reichardt’s chambers just called. We’re in court in two hours.”


TWO HOURS!
Sorry Kelly, I can’t get my hair ready that fast, let alone get to court.”

“If you have to, forget your hair and everything. Just don’t show up naked. I need you to get Mason there, too, in case the Judge wants to hear his testimony. I’m going to get Jannie to bring the Richardsons.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t leave the firm.”

“I know. I feel like they should just shoot me. I’m a lot older than you too, remember. We have to get rolling. Just tell me you’ll handle it?”

“It’s going to take at least an hour and a half to drive to Baltimore…okay, I think I can do it, see you there, good-bye.”

Now, Jannie…
“Hello.”

“Jannie, we’re in court at 1:00. Where are you?”

“In our palatial office, of course.”

“God bless you. I need you to get the Richardsons to Judge Reichardt’s courtroom in Baltimore by 1:00. Call me if you have problems.”

“We’ll have to bring Gareth.”

“Understand. See you there, unless I hear from you and I know I won’t, okay?”

“Sure, can I use your name for the police escort?”

“Thanks. See you.”

 

General McKenna walked into the Operations Division Chief’s office where the Chief, Ethan Halliburton, and two of his key deputies were watching a monitor.

“How’s the Chinese op going, E?”

“Nothing yet, sir. The first message was sent forty seven minutes ago, roughly twelve minutes after I left your office. My folks had pretty much anticipated it and had dug up the format and style and had the right encryption ready for the edited product. We spaced the second message twenty eight minutes later, or nineteen minutes ago. We’re monitoring every known Chinese government channel and have all available cryptographers and Chinese linguists pulling down any intercepts with key words ‘Green Lilly,’ ‘depart,’ ‘instruct,’ ‘request’ and their variations. Of course, we hope they just transmit right back to the source, us. But, nothing on our target yet.”

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