The Wrong Lawyer (10 page)

I ordered a full
breakfast on the government’s tab and savored it while rereading Douglas
Grant’s fine article.

During the
remainder of the morning I flipped from station to station but located no
mention of the story elsewhere.

At one o’clock my
door opened and the General entered accompanied by two other very distinguished
gentlemen.

“Mr. Kennedy,” the
General began, “this is Saul Zimmerlan, a senior lawyer with the Department of
Justice, and Peter Rancone, the senior attorney with the Department of Homeland
Security. They wish to speak with you in private. I’ll wait outside in the
hallway until you are done. At that time it will be my pleasure to release you
from our temporary custody.”

Rancone spoke
first as soon as the General had departed.

“The government
wishes to apologize for dragging you into this situation, Mr. Kennedy. The
kidnapping of both you and Mr. Haddad was neither properly authorized nor
adequately monitored. It was an unfortunate case of overzealous lower-level
employees deciding to take matters into their own hands in an attempt to
impress their superiors while at the same time putting the government of Saudi
Arabia under intense pressure to make serious concessions to allow our military
to better manage our offensive against the growing terrorist threat of ISIS in
both Iraq and Syria. Be assured that publicity regarding the kidnappings has rendered
these ill-conceived plans ineffective. Mr. Haddad is being unconditionally
released as we speak and will fly home later today. You also will be released
shortly.”

“I’m pleased to
hear that, sir. Will Special Agent Matthews be appropriately punished for his
role?”

“He has been
persuaded to take an early retirement package at the end of this month in order
to avoid sanctions. Since the government seeks to avoid additional publicity
surrounding this fiasco, it is most unlikely that any additional punishment
will be meted out to him.”

“What about the
General?” I asked. “Will he be punished in any way?”

“It doesn’t appear
likely. He honestly believed that Special Agent Matthews had the authorization
from his superiors to hold you and Mr. Haddad. Since Matthews was his immediate
superior, at this moment no fault can be found with the General’s conduct. That
brings us to your situation, Mr. Kennedy.”

“I’m listening,” I
replied tentatively.

“Our apologies
alone are grossly inadequate, but let me extend to you the sincere regrets of
the American government and its agencies regarding your egregious treatment. Do
you intend to seek any redress against our government?”

“No, I won’t be
suing you. I’m as rich as I need to be already, and I’m pleased that Matthews’
plans have failed and that Mr. Haddad is being permitted to fly home. There are
some things that I’d like to see done, however.”

“What sort of
things?” Rancone queried.

“For one thing, I
don’t want Mandy Franklin to be charged with anything. She was very brave in
getting my letter into the hands of The Capitol Independent.”

“I can assure you
that no charges will be laid against the young lady,” the lawyer answered.

“It breaks my heart
to think that Mandy might continue life as a hooker. Do you think it might be
possible to find her a decent job?”

“We can certainly
speak with her and determine whether she wants one,” Rancone replied.

“I can live with
that. As regards my situation, I’d like to be placed back to my original unimportant
civilian status, meaning that I don’t want this affair to affect my ability to
travel in the future. I love taking vacations in the USA.”

“That is being
done as we speak, Mr. Kennedy.”

“On that note, I
want to head from here to Las Vegas in order to complete the holiday I had
planned. If you can swing it, I’d like to change my return flight from Saturday
to Monday in order to have adequate time to lose my money there.”

“Consider it done,
sir, and we’ll pick up the entire cost of your trip. We can probably find you a
spot on a flight later this afternoon or early this evening. Will that be
acceptable?”

“That will almost
fully satisfy me. There’s just one more issue on which I’d like at least some
assurances that the matter will be examined.”

“And what might
that be?” Rancone asked.

“It was shocking
when Matthews played back to me private conversations that I had with my best
friend in the privacy of his condominium. Then Matthews gloated that my
personal finances had been thoroughly examined and he teased me that it was
foolish for me to have all my investments in government-insured term deposits.
Just how pervasive is American intelligence into our lives?”

“It was felt that
you might bring up this issue,” Rancone responded. “That’s why Mr. Zimmerlan
was asked to join us. I’ll have him address your concern.”

“What I’m about to
say must be kept completely confidential, Mr. Kennedy. Before I proceed, I
require your solemn promise on tape not to divulge what I am about to tell you.
Are those terms agreeable to you?”

I hesitated for a
moment and then answered that I so agreed. Zimmerlan then rephrased my question
while recording it and I confirmed that I accepted the terms of
confidentiality. He then turned the recording function off and asked Rancone to
leave the room.

“Inadvertently,
Mr. Kennedy, you have exposed a highly vulnerable anomaly in the American
intelligence community. Unbeknownst to virtually anyone except perhaps
President Obama himself and a couple of his highest level advisors, the
National Security Agency has not been the sole collector of meta-data at home
and abroad. The Department of Homeland Security has also been independently
accumulating such data and in fact has devised a method of listening in on
conversations taking place not directly on a telephone or hand-held device, but
anywhere within about twenty feet of such devices. That capability was not
shared with the NSA or with any other government entity. As you also shockingly
discovered, Special Agent Matthews at Homeland Security also invented a system
of retrieving specific data quickly and efficiently. You can be proud that your
bizarre involvement in the Haddad kidnapping has inadvertently exposed this
inordinately intrusive development in our ability to spy effectively on our
citizens and those of other countries.”

“Will anything be
done to prevent it?” I asked.

“That’s not my
decision to make, Mr. Kennedy. Although the capability has now been publicized,
The Capitol Independent is a very minor media outlet. It is possible that the
matter will begin to come under much greater scrutiny because of that one piece.
There won’t be any follow-up stories any time soon in the media, however. That
single article will be the only opportunity for others to read about the new
surveillance capability in the press. It’s not a private world that we live in
any longer, Mr. Kennedy.”

“That’s a very
evasive answer, Mr. Zimmerlan. Can you tell me whether your government will stop
employing this new and decidedly more invasive technology now that its
existence has been exposed?”

“Strictly between
you and me, Mr. Kennedy, I truly can’t say whether my government will terminate
use of this recording capability or exploit it. Ruefully, my educated guess is
that the temptations to develop and improve the technology will be too great for
the powers that be to resist.”

“They could be
listening in on our conversation right now,” I complained. “It’s a very scary
thought.”

“Like you, Mr.
Kennedy, I’m only an attorney and I have virtually no input in such high-level
decisions. Let’s summon the other gentlemen back and we can see to your amended
travel arrangements.”

Mr. Rancone came
back in the room along with the General who formally released me from custody.

Rancone booked me
on a five o’clock flight to Las Vegas and also arranged for my stay at the Four
Queens for the next four nights. He confirmed that the American government had
picked up the tab for both items.

My belongings were
all returned and I was provided with a ride back to Washington Dulles
International Airport.

There was no
difficulty in obtaining my Boarding Pass, and the flight left right on time.

At seven-thirty
Las Vegas time the plane touched down.

I caught a Bell Trans
shuttle to the downtown area and forty minutes later I was checking into the
Four Queens. I asked for a room in the south tower and was given Room 812.

After unpacking, I
went downstairs and consumed a meat-lover’s pizza and two huge mugs of Old Town
Brown dark draft ale at Magnolia’s, my favorite restaurant in Las Vegas.

After supper I
walked around the Fremont Street Experience and watched the overhead light show
at ten o’clock.

Not quite ready to
call it a night, I thought I’d try my luck on the slots for an hour or so. I
had all my casino player’s cards in my pocket and headed into the Golden
Nugget.

My favorite type
of slot was a game called Caveman Keno but the dozen or so machines at the
Nugget carrying that game had been removed since my last trip here.

I found a penny
denomination machine that looked like a bit of fun and sat down. I inserted my
player’s card into the machine along with a five dollar bill.

A few minutes
later my Vegas vacation took a detour into Weirdsville.

Two well-dressed
casino employees came up to my machine and requested that I show them my Golden
Nugget player’s card and some picture identification.

I pulled the card
out of the machine and handed it to the fellow along with my Ontario driver’s
license.

“Have I won some
sort of random spot prize?” I asked naively.

“No, sir, I’m
sorry but we needed to verify your identification. The casino is confiscating
your card immediately. You are no longer welcome in this establishment.”

“May I ask what
this is all about?” I inquired politely.

“Our computers
show that you’ve been blacklisted from our casino, sir. We’ll escort you to the
cashier’s wicket so that you may cash out your slot ticket.”

“There must be a
mistake. I only play the smaller denomination slot machines, and I haven’t even
been to Las Vegas in a couple of years. It’s not possible that I’ve been
blacklisted. Can I accompany you upstairs and have you double-check your
information?”

“We’re sorry, sir
but at this late hour there’s no one available to validate the matter. Our
security computer flagged you as having been blacklisted as soon as your card
was inserted in the slot machine, and we have to abide by that directive. You
can contact the casino security office during office hours tomorrow to obtain
more particulars if you wish.”

The men escorted
me to the cashier’s cage where I redeemed my ticket for $2.25. It was hardly
worth the trip and I felt quite embarrassed by the incident. The gentlemen then
walked me right to the front door and made sure that I left the building.

The night went
downhill from there.

When I got to my
room in the Four Queens, my electronic key wouldn’t work.

Back down to the
main floor I trundled and went to the hotel registration desk.

“I’m in Room 812
but my key won’t work,” I complained to the desk clerk.

He checked his
computer and immediately tensed up.

“Let me just call
security, sir and they can look after you.”

Within minutes two
uniformed and armed security guards appeared.

The clerk showed
them whatever warning had shown up on the security screen and immediately both
guards unsnapped their holsters and drew their guns.

“Call the Las
Vegas police, Cyril,” one of the guards said to the desk clerk. “We’ll take Mr.
Kennedy to the main security office and the police can meet us there.”

“What’s going on?”
I moaned. “I just got kicked out of the Golden Nugget because their computer
showed that I had been blacklisted, and now your system has gone haywire and
flagged me for something even more serious. I’m a retired lawyer from Canada
and I demand to be told what dire warning your computer incorrectly contains
about me.”

“We’ll answer your
questions, sir, but not here. Please don’t be alarmed, but my partner is going
to have to secure you in handcuffs before we can move you.”

That guard was
actually pointing his revolver at me so I put my hands behind my back and felt
the cuffs being tightened on my wrists. Other guests were gawking at us, no
doubt wondering what sort of vile casino cheat the cops had just nabbed.

The guards led me
through a small portion of the casino to their office near the casino’s cashier
wickets.

They kept me shackled.

“Okay, we’re
secure in here,” I began. “Now please tell me what the screen says and between
us and the Vegas police, we can determine whether this is all one big mistake.”

“I’ll leave that
decision up to our supervisor,” the older of the two guards replied, and he
tapped on a nearby door. A buzzer sounded and the guard was then able to open
the door and summon his boss.

A very
distinguished fellow came out of the office and approached me. The guard
explained to this gentleman what had occurred and that I was demanding to know
the details of the warning.

The supervisor
tapped away on the computer screen and then he too tensed up and looked most
concerned.

“I believe it
would be prudent to wait until the Las Vegas police arrive,” he said as he drew
his own gun and ordered me to take a seat in the corner of the room away from
the guards.

We didn’t wait
long until the city cops, three of them, were ushered into the security office
a few moments later.

The supervisor
briefly related what had happened since I had appeared at the front desk. He
permitted the police officers to read the computer screen.

The officer in
charge immediately got on his cell phone and called his chief.

“It’s Sergeant
Davy here sir. The casino security at the Four Queens has apprehended a wanted
international terrorist. I’m now on site with two younger officers but I’m
uncertain as to how to proceed. Do we bring him in to the precinct or do we
remain here and contact one of the federal agencies to come and get him?”

I couldn’t hear
the response but at least I now had some idea what the fuss was all about.

“This is nothing
but a high-level prank,” I snarled. “I’m a retired lawyer from Canada. Before
you send every armed cop in the state here to deal with me, can I persuade you
to contact some people at Homeland Security in Washington? I want to go
upstairs and get some damn sleep.”

The Vegas cop
repeated my remarks to his chief.

The next thing I
knew the officer had his cell phone at my ear so that I could speak directly
with the police chief.

“Hello, sir, my
name is Thomas Kennedy and I’m a retired lawyer from Canada. Homeland Security
has booked and paid for both my flight here earlier today and my room at the
Four Queens for the next four nights. I can give you the names of my high level
contacts at Homeland in Washington and you can verify that this terror message
has been placed in the computer systems as a mean-spirited prank, probably by
the Special Agent who just lost his job because of his improper dealing with me
over the past few days. Your department can avoid a shitload of embarrassment
by confirming my situation before you call in the entire US military.”

Fortunately the
Chief was a reasonable man and I gave him the name of General Piorkowski as
well as Peter Rancone, the Homeland Security attorney.

Thirty-five
minutes later I was on a conference call with both gentlemen.

I explained what
had occurred firstly in the Golden Nugget casino and later at the Four Queens
reception desk.

“It must be
Matthews”, the General opined. “He’s got his doctorate in computer science.
There’s no telling what other surprises he has in store for you, Mr. Kennedy.
I’m sorry but it’s my opinion that we should get you home to Canada as soon as
possible before you get hurt. Are you willing to cut your vacation short?”

“Sure, I know when
I’m out of my league. Three of the police officers here in the room with me
right now have their guns drawn and directed at me while I’m speaking with you.
They must think I’m Jason Bourne or something and that I’m about to kill them
all in order to effect my escape. I’ll fly home tomorrow if you can make the
arrangements, but I’d like to stay here at the Four Queens tonight. I’m
exhausted and a hangover is already beginning to take hold.”

“That’s
acceptable. Put the Chief back on and I’ll reassure him that this is all a
mistake.”

Ten minutes later
the cuffs were removed and I was taken back to the reception desk and issued
another key.

It was now two
o’clock in the morning and despite the bizarre twists of this evening, I fell
asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.