our ADMA, Associate Director of Military Affairs, to reach the SECNAV…and you. We want to make sure there are no leaks, and most important, no misunderstandings. We’ll talk more about this in just a few minutes.”
Shakeela stood nearby as Jack passed through security and received a temporary identification card. Once cleared, she guided him to an elevator that took him belowground. The glass entryway, seen from the outside, was actually the fourth floor of the building. Most of the building lay buried in concrete. As they descended, Shakeela stifled a yawn and rubbed her temple.
“Been burning the late-night oil?” Jack needed to try to build rapport with her if he was going to get any information. No sense making enemies from the get-go. “You look tired.”
Shakeela gave a halfhearted smile. “Just jet lag catching up, I guess.”
“Europe? Middle East?”
She just shook her head. “Let’s just say, not in the United States.”
The elevator door rolled open, and he followed her down a brightly-lit hallway until they reached what appeared to be a conference room with only one door. No windows.
“Make yourself comfortable, Colonel, while I round up those who need to be here.”
“Wait a minute, Ms. Vaziri. How many people are coming to this party? I sent out a flag on one person—in what I considered a covert operation—and I want to know who I’m dealing with before we have a major sit-down with a bunch of strangers.”
“Our cooperation comes with conditions, sir—”
“Then take your conditions and shove ‘em. People are out there putting their lives on the line—”
“Like Gerrit O’Rourke?”
He glared at her, taken aback that she already knew something about his operation. “How’d you come up with that name?”
“You know Gerrit and I go way back. Ever since that operation you loaned him for in Afghanistan.”
“I know that you and he went out of country on that one. It has nothing to do with our conflict in Afghanistan. You lied to me then. Are you going to lie to me now?” He must have hit a nerve. Her eyes flared and her jaw muscles tightened.
“I never lied to you, Colonel. It was a need-to-know—and you didn’t.”
“Speaking of which, what happened between you and Gerrit? He came back mighty angry.”
She lowered her eyes. “I never meant to hurt him. I…can’t talk about it.”
“Can’t or won’t? You spooks have a convenient way of hiding what you don’t want to share. Did national security have anything to do with what happened? Or was it personal?”
“Frankly, that’s none of your business, sir. Let’s focus on what we’re facing right now.”
“Yes, shall we? Why did you haul my tired bones all the way out here to talk about what could have been covered over an encrypted phone line?”
“Let me get my boss here, and we’ll tell you.” With that, she turned and left him in the room.
So the CIA already knew about Gerrit. What else did they know? And why were they so interested in Stuart Martin? These unanswered questions made him nervous. How could he and Malloy protect Gerrit and the others if more strangers knew about the operation?
Shakeela closed the conference door and moved down the hallway. She did not reveal to the colonel that this meeting put her own life in danger, pulling her from an undercover assignment overseas to meet with him at Langley. A total violation of CIA policy, which painted a red bull’s-eye on both their backs. Deep undercover meant just that. She had spent years setting up an operation centered in Paris that made use of the Iranian contacts currently living in France.
She never realized how those photos she took of Atash Hassan meeting with this unknown man, Stuart Martin, would set off so many bells. As soon as she had received notification as to the identity of Stuart, she started getting encrypted messages—first, from her station chief, and later from a manager at headquarters—to return to
Shakeela stood nearby as Jack passed through security and received a temporary identification card. Once cleared, she guided him to an elevator that took him belowground. The glass entryway, seen from the outside, was actually the fourth floor of the building. Most of the building lay buried in concrete. As they descended, Shakeela stifled a yawn and rubbed her temple.
“Been burning the late-night oil?” Jack needed to try to build rapport with her if he was going to get any information. No sense making enemies from the get-go. “You look tired.”
Shakeela gave a halfhearted smile. “Just jet lag catching up, I guess.”
“Europe? Middle East?”
She just shook her head. “Let’s just say, not in the United States.”
The elevator door rolled open, and he followed her down a brightly-lit hallway until they reached what appeared to be a conference room with only one door. No windows.
“Make yourself comfortable, Colonel, while I round up those who need to be here.”
“Wait a minute, Ms. Vaziri. How many people are coming to this party? I sent out a flag on one person—in what I considered a covert operation—and I want to know who I’m dealing with before we have a major sit-down with a bunch of strangers.”
“Our cooperation comes with conditions, sir—”
“Then take your conditions and shove ‘em. People are out there putting their lives on the line—”
“Like Gerrit O’Rourke?”
He glared at her, taken aback that she already knew something about his operation. “How’d you come up with that name?”
“You know Gerrit and I go way back. Ever since that operation you loaned him for in Afghanistan.”
“I know that you and he went out of country on that one. It has nothing to do with our conflict in Afghanistan. You lied to me then. Are you going to lie to me now?” He must have hit a nerve. Her eyes flared and her jaw muscles tightened.
“I never lied to you, Colonel. It was a need-to-know—and you didn’t.”
“Speaking of which, what happened between you and Gerrit? He came back mighty angry.”
She lowered her eyes. “I never meant to hurt him. I…can’t talk about it.”
“Can’t or won’t? You spooks have a convenient way of hiding what you don’t want to share. Did national security have anything to do with what happened? Or was it personal?”
“Frankly, that’s none of your business, sir. Let’s focus on what we’re facing right now.”
“Yes, shall we? Why did you haul my tired bones all the way out here to talk about what could have been covered over an encrypted phone line?”
“Let me get my boss here, and we’ll tell you.” With that, she turned and left him in the room.
So the CIA already knew about Gerrit. What else did they know? And why were they so interested in Stuart Martin? These unanswered questions made him nervous. How could he and Malloy protect Gerrit and the others if more strangers knew about the operation?
Shakeela closed the conference door and moved down the hallway. She did not reveal to the colonel that this meeting put her own life in danger, pulling her from an undercover assignment overseas to meet with him at Langley. A total violation of CIA policy, which painted a red bull’s-eye on both their backs. Deep undercover meant just that. She had spent years setting up an operation centered in Paris that made use of the Iranian contacts currently living in France.
She never realized how those photos she took of Atash Hassan meeting with this unknown man, Stuart Martin, would set off so many bells. As soon as she had received notification as to the identity of Stuart, she started getting encrypted messages—first, from her station chief, and later from a manager at headquarters—to return to
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