As Special Agent Armando Martinez entered the office of Director Ted Warner, Special Branch, Anti-Terrorism Task Force, he could sense tension in the room.
“You wanted to see me, Sir?” Armando asked as he stood in front of the obviously angry man's desk.
The director had been studying a sheet of paper. He placed it on his desk and spread his hands across it as if he was straightening wrinkles. He looked up at Armando appraisingly before speaking. “Perhaps you would like to explain to me what the hell is going on.” It was not a question.
“I don't understand.” Armando said.
“I just received a report that an agent in Monterey who was making an in-field delivery under your orders was found bound and gagged in the back of an SUV in a place called Knotts Landing between Monterey and Santa Cruz.
“Why don't I know about this, Armando? Why is it I'm just now discovering an operation after the fact? Why is an agent you delegated found beat-up and gagged and is now in the hospital?”
Armando's eyebrows raised in surprise. “What happened?”
“That's what I'm asking you.” the Director said.
“Brad called me at home.” Armando said, relaying the request from Brad and the planned 2:30AM pick up on the Santa Cruz pier. “I've been waiting for confirmation of the pickup. I was wondering why it was taking so long. I sent you an e-mail detailing the request and hand-over. It should be on your computer.”
“It isn't.” The Director said.
They stared at each other for a moment as the realization hit both of them. “The mole.” said Armando. “He knows what's going on and he's sabotaging the operation. He's in the system.”
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“Eichmann?” Brad said into the phone.
“Hello, Brad. Yes, this is Joseph Eichmann. I see Susan kept this phone number.”
“Considering the way our last meeting went I'm surprised to hear from you.”
“I know who the mole is.” Brad responded. Joseph was silent for a moment.
“How would you know that?” Joseph asked.
“He had an agent deliver a bomb to me that was detonated through a call signal. I discovered it barely in time.”
“What do you want from me?” Eichmann asked.
“I want to know who you work for. How well connected are you?”
“I can't tell you that. These people are very private. I'll refer to them as the committee, and they are very well connected.”
“So, you're not really planning on selling this item, are you? You're working in behalf of this committee, and they're going to sell it.”
“You see, Brad, that's the trouble with having little bits of information. You're trying to put a puzzle together when you don't have all the pieces.”
“Maybe you could help me with that one, Joseph,” Brad said.
“Maybe. Who's the mole?” Joseph asked.
“Armando Martinez.”
Joseph hesitated before speaking. “Hmm, I don't think so, Brad. He's just not the type. I know Martinez. In fact, I profiled him when he came into the agency. Money doesn't mean that much to him. Martinez is a dedicated agent. I doubt if I've ever met a more honorable man.
“Tell me exactly what happened.” Joseph said. Brad explained the whole scenario starting with his phone call to Armando.
“So, the only two people who know of this is Armando and Director Ted Warner?”
"That's right.”
“As far as you know.”
“Well, yes, but I'm going by what Armando told me.”
“There could be others then. If the mole has any indication of activity on the Jenkins case and even suspects Armando as being in an investigation, he may be a person in a position to have clandestine access to what is happening.
“Have you spoken to Agent Martinez?”
“Hell, no. He tried to kill me.”
“Maybe not.” Joseph said. “I'll ask you again, what do you want from me?”
“I need some inside help. I was requesting information on Alberto De La Cruz and you from Armando.”
Joseph chuckled. “Well, I'm certainly honored that you consider me such a lead player.”
“Are you a lead player, Joseph?”
“We will have to see how things transpire to determine that.”
“What does the committee intend to do with the memory stick?” Brad asked.
“Mainly, they don't want to see Alberto get it. That type of weaponry loose in the hands of fanatics could disrupt the economy of the world in a most devastating way, not the mention the genocide that would take place.”
“So, you're saying the people you work for are the good guys?” Brad asked.
Joseph chuckled again. “Let's say they're better guys than Alberto, but they have their own interests in this.”
“Which is?”
“They have a vested interest in keeping the world economy as stable as possible.”
“Okay. That tells me a lot about who they are. So, you are well connected, and that means you can help us, which, of course would be to your benefit."
“Yes. Let's help each other. We seek similar solutions to a mutual problem.”
“Okay. Let's say you help me and Susan stay alive and we find the stick. What happens then?”
“You're asking for a definitive answer from a gray area. We'll have to see where all the player are on the board at that time and decide the best action to take.”
“You answer cautiously, Joseph. Why is it that doesn't give me a safe feeling?”
“I'm old, Brad. Experience teaches one to see things in a broader more realistic light and not jump to conclusions or make commitment until the picture is clear.”
“Frankly, you're not giving me a lot of confidence in this partnership. How do I know that you're not going to kill us once you get the stick?”
“You don't, but that's the nature of this type of business. You know what they say, Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. The only trouble is it is sometimes hard to tell them apart.
“Do you want protection?” Joseph asked.
“Not from your goons. I'd rather have information. Let's start with De La Cruz, so we know what we're up against. I'd like history, a profile and where he is, also anything you have on his associates, especially his lead muscle.”
“Okay, call back in a few hours and we'll make arrangements.” Before hanging up Joseph said as an afterthought, “Oh! Brad. I suggest you call Armando, but do it on his private line. I think you're wrong about him, and you need all the help you can get.”
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Susan had been sitting in the passenger seat of the Land Rover listening to Brad's conversation with Joseph on speaker phone. They were parked in a Rest Area near Paso Robles, 80 miles south of Santa Cruz. She could see Brad's frustration. He had been rattled since the bomb incident on the pier. Armando was one of his best friends, and he had laid a format out for Brad that was close enough to familiar for him. But, when it all went upside down, and he was no longer sure who his people were, not knowing if they were enemy or not, it stunned him, brought him to a psychological halt as he tried to evaluate that which could not be evaluated. Susan's job as an executive for a large government contracted firm made her a specialist in complex planning that often found solid ground only after she had created it.
“This is a little different than what you're used to, isn't it?” she asked.
“Yeah. A little. I'm used to planned out operations with back up plans. This has no plans at all. I don't know what the hell is going on.”
“Then let's make a plan. So for, we've been in sort of a running battle Let's find out who the players are and where they stand, who's trying to kill us and who is willing to help us. But, most of all, let's turn the tide on our pursuers.”
“How are we going to do that?” he asked.
“First, let's find out who is who. I agree with Joseph. Call Armando. See what he has to say.”
“You trust Joseph?” Brad asked in surprise.
“No. He tells us only what is necessary to get what he wants. We can only hope our judgment is correct concerning his degree of truth, and what he said about calling Armando, I believe, was said with sincerity. So, let's start there. Call Armando.”
All content - poems, posts & images - are ©2010 by John Evans. No permission is given to post, share, copy, print, e-mail, reproduce, distribute or link to. All Rights Reserved. Please contact John Evans at JohnEvansPoet.Com for licensing inquiries.
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