Chapter 12
Posted: July 16, 2007 - 12:04:42 am


Mike sat down at his computer and logged in. Following his normal morning procedure, he opened his e-mail. Much to his surprise, he found that there was a message from root with the title, 'An Important Intelligence Assessment.' He clicked on the message and nearly fell out of his chair when he read the first two lines of it.

The email laid out the full intelligence estimate concerning a pending attack against the United States. Details about what groups were active in the states, what messages had been intercepted, and the kinds of activities that might be attempted were presented for all to read. Mike could see his own contributions to the assessment and the thought that others might recognize it sent chills down his spine. It was signed as originating from the leadership of the Intelligence 100.

Sanjay stuck his head inside Mike's cubicle. Wide-eyed, he asked, "Did you read the e-mail from root?"

"Yes, I did," Mike answered. He looked at the screen and wondered who had signed onto the computer as the administrator and sent out the e-mail under that account. He looked at the message a little more carefully and saw that it was sent out of the White House. Someone at the NSA must have had a little fun during the night.

"This is very bad," Sanjay said. He was informed enough to know that the assessment presented was accurate.

"Yes, it is," Mike said not referring to the content of the message when he agreed with Sanjay. He thought it was bad that the Intelligence 100 had broken cover.

Sanjay said, "I'm going out to the telephone to tell my wife not to go anywhere today."

"That's a good idea," Mike said.

The rest of the morning was spent listening to rumors about who the Intelligence 100 might be. Mike didn't say a word, but listened as the speculations ran rampant. A few people didn't know that root was the name of the administrative account on UNIX servers. As a result, there were a lot of people speculating that the user name root was significant somehow.

The atmosphere in the lunch room was very subdued. The normal distribution of groups was spread out around the room. The Chinese were eating together at a collection of tables. The Indians were eating together at another group of tables. Mike carried his tray past the tables and shook his head. In light of the email, he thought it was very stupid for them to isolate themselves from their coworkers like that.

On reaching the table, he sat where he could watch the rest of the room. Sanjay came out of the food service area carrying his tray. He walked past the Indian tables and headed over to the table where Mike was seated. Mike was pleased that Sanjay had decided to break with tradition, but knew it would cost him.

When Sanjay put his tray on the table next to Mike, a number of eyes turned to watch. Sanjay sat down and said, "I have decided to join you for lunch today."

"That's nice. How'd your wife take the news to stay home?" Mike asked.

Sanjay shook his head and said, "She is not very happy. She's been scared for a long time. Now she's terrified."

"I know what you mean," Mike said.

Another Indian walked by and said something to Sanjay. Mike didn't know what had been said, but the expression on Sanjay's face suggested that it wasn't very nice. Sanjay rose from his chair and turned to face the tables filled with Indians. Furious, he said, "Never speak to me in Gujrati again. I am an American. I sit with my coworker because we are fighting an enemy that wants to kill us! We are brothers in arms in a war against evil men!"

The entire room turned to stare at Sanjay. Ignoring the attention he was receiving, he said, "You sit over there thinking you are so great and important. You are not! You are scum who think you are better than Americans. Every American in this room is fighting to save the lives of three hundred million of our fellow citizens and yet you chose to separate yourself from them. I say again, you are scum!"

Turning to face the Chinese, Sanjay pointed at them as he said, "You are just as bad. You sit over there speaking Chinese and keeping your words secret from the people with whom you work. Bah! No wonder no one trusts you. You don't even have the decency to talk in English where everyone can understand what you say.

"You Arabs over there," Sanjay shouted while pointing at another table, "Either you join the fight against the terrorists or get out of here. You sit together speaking in Arabic while men who look and talk just like you are planning to kill us. You bastards! Are you trying to kill us? I don't know because I can't understand a damned word that you are saying.

"We had more than fifty spies taken out of here last week. Where did they sit at lunch? There, there, and there," Sanjay said pointing at the tables. He stood up straight and said, "Why should I trust you? You disdain the men and women who were born in this country. You harbored spies at your tables. For all I know, you are spies!

"You might have American citizenship, but you aren't Americans. I know it! Every American in the room knows it! It is time you became a member of this country or go back to where you were born. Join your coworkers at their tables and start earning their trust because you don't have it. Stop speaking foreign languages that allow you to keep secrets from others. If you don't, I promise you that you'll never be trusted in this organization again," Sanjay said.

Holding up his sandwich, he said, "Starting today, I am going to eat my American lunch with my American friends. I am an American and I'm proud of it!"

As Sanjay went to sit down, the applause started. Within seconds it was deafening. Mike was the first to stand, but others around the room quickly joined him. Sanjay had said what many of them believed. Those individuals seated at the tables at which Sanjay had pointed shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Most of them looked embarrassed. Sanjay looked very embarrassed at the attention, but he appreciated the support. Under his breath, he said, "That was for you Donald."

Sanjay pushed the glass of Scotch around on the bar. He ran a finger through the wet spots left by the glass. He said, "I got a little carried away."

"No, you said something that needed to be said," Mike replied with a smile. He took a sip of his beer and chuckled thinking back to the stunned faces around the cafeteria.

"Do you think I will get suspended?" Sanjay asked worried that his actions were going to get him fired. Donald had been fired for saying even less.

Shaking his head, Mike said, "No. I think that those days are over. The guys who were using political correctness to eliminate analysts are gone. I don't think people will react too well if you have any problems."

"You reassure me," Sanjay said. He took a sip of his Scotch and chuckled. He said, "My wife is going to be very surprised when I tell her what I did. I may have to spend the night where the dog sleeps."

Mike laughed and said, "You mean the doghouse."

"Yes, the doghouse. That is where I'll be sleeping tonight."

Not having met Sanjay's wife, Mike was convinced that she ruled the house with an iron fist. He said, "Tell her that she doesn't need to worry about your job. You won the respect of hundreds of people today. That's not quite right. You earned their respect today."

"Thanks, Mike."

"That was a brave thing you did today," Mike said.

"I was more angry than brave," Sanjay said. When Utpal had asked him why he was bothering to sit with the Americans, Sanjay had gotten angry. He'd heard a number of the Indians talking about sending their families back home; meaning by that India. It was at that moment when he realized that very few of them considered themselves Americans.

"Very few brave acts occur when people are calm and relaxed. It requires a lot of emotion to be brave. Anger is often a great source of emotion that can be channeled to good ends," Mike said looking down at his twisted left hand. He knew all about doing extraordinary things while angry.

Thinking about it that way made Sanjay feel a lot better. The conversation changed to topics much less emotional like fishing and barbecues. The conversation died when Mike looked over at the television set playing in the bar. The evening news was on. Splashed across the screen was the caption, 'Spies Freed.' In a sharp voice, Mike said, "Bartender, turn up the sound."

Stunned, Mike and Sanjay listened to the news report that the President had released the spies so that they could return to their home countries. The news commentator on the station was talking about what a grand gesture it was and how it would help reduce international tensions. Mike said, "That man is like Nero. He's playing the fiddle while Rome burns."

Sanjay said, "My neighbor has a son who has a pet rat. I hate rats very much. They are filthy animals that spread disease. I always tell my neighbor how much I hate his rat. I think that at this moment I like that rat better than the President."

The full implications of the President's actions crashed down on Mike. He leaned over and, in a very soft voice, asked, "Do you have a gun?"

"No," Sanjay answered looking at Mike with wide eyes.

Mike pulled a twenty out of his wallet and put it on the bar. It was more than enough to cover the Scotch and a beer. He said, "Come with me. We need to get home right now."

Sanjay followed Mike out of the bar. Mike pulled Sanjay over to his car and opened the trunk. He pulled out a pistol that was wrapped it in a towel. He unwrapped it and checked out the pistol. His twisted hand made it difficult. Handing the package over to Sanjay, he said, "Take this home with you. It is loaded with a round in the chamber, but the safety is on. Don't open the door to anyone unless you know who it is and can trust them. If someone tries to break in, turn the safety off, cock the hammer, and put as much lead into them as possible."

"What's the matter?" Sanjay asked staring at the package in his hand. He wasn't sure that he could use the gun.

"Chang is out and I know for a fact that he's a killer," Mike answered.

Thinking about what would happen if Chang thought he was the one who had turned him in, Sanjay felt sick to his stomach. His forehead broke out in a sweat when he recalled what Chang had shouted from the holding area. He said, "Thank you very much. You are a good friend to think of my safety like this. What about you?"

"I've got a gun," Mike said patting his pistol through his sport coat. Sanjay's eyes grew large when he realized the Mike was carrying a pistol under his coat. Ignoring Sanjay's reaction, Mike said, "Go home and take care of yourself and your wife."

After calling out to let Karen know that he was at the door, Mike entered the house. There was the barrel of a shotgun pointed in his general direction. Karen was sitting on the couch holding it awkwardly across her body. If she had fired it, she probably would have broken her finger from the recoil, but the person at the door would have been dead.

Closing and locking the door behind him, he said, "Good. I was hoping to find you that were ready to protect yourself."

With shaking hands, Karen very carefully put the shotgun down on the coffee table. Once it was out of her hands, she broke out into tears. Robert headed over to the coffee table to see what his mother had been holding. Afraid that little Robert would go after the gun; Mike went over and took possession of it. He checked to see if it was loaded and was pleased to find that it was. He carried it into the third room and locked it in the gun cabinet.

Returning to Karen, he put an arm around her and hugged her. Sobbing, she said, "I hate this. I heard what the President did this afternoon. I hate him for making me afraid to be alone in my own house."

"I know," Mike said patting her on the back. He felt the same way.

"Don't go to work tomorrow," Karen said desperately afraid of being left alone again. When Mike had called and told her that Chang was probably free from custody, she had immediately understood the situation. There was no telling who he blamed for getting exposed.

Mike frowned at the request. He wondered how many other people were hearing their wives say the same thing to them. He wondered how many of them would show up at work the next day. There was no way that he was going to stand by and let terrorists take control over the country. He said, "I have to go."

His comment released a flood of tears. Robert, crawling around on the floor, looked up at his mother and started crying as well. He didn't know what the matter was, but didn't feel happy that his parents were upset. As soon as he started crying Mike grabbed him and set him in his lap. Mike sat there holding his wife and child for the next thirty minutes trying to figure out some solution to that mess.

"What are we going to do? I can't live this way," Karen said having cried enough.

"I'm going to call up our parents. I think that in this time of crisis that you and our mothers shouldn't be left alone. I'm pretty sure that the Admiral could get you stashed somewhere on one of the Naval Bases around here, but I think you'll be safer at my parent's house," Mike said.

Wiping away her tears, Karen said, "That would be good."

"The Colonel might even be able to arrange for a Marine Guard," Mike said, "I'm pretty sure that the Admiral can make sure of that."

"That would be even better," Karen said taking Robert from Mike's arms. The little tyke was hungry and started to cry. Seeing that he was trying to nurse through her shirt, it didn't take long before she was nursing. The act calmed her down almost immediately.

Mike went to the telephone and started making calls. All of the arrangements had been made when there was a knock on the door. Karen screamed and headed towards the third bedroom taking Robert with her. Mike went to the door and looked through the peephole. He opened the door and stepped back while saying, "Come in, Bob."

Looking at the pistol in Mike's hand, Bob swallowed and entered the house. He said, "I don't know what government agency you work for, but I do know that you know a lot about what is going on. My wife is afraid that all those spies that were released are going to attack us. Can you tell me what to do?"

Mike looked at Bob wondering how much to tell him. Finally, he said, "I can't tell you everything that is going on. The best advice that I can give you is to stay away from crowded areas for the next few days. Don't go out any more than you must."

"Why do you have a gun?" Bob asked looking down at the pistol in Mike's hand.

"One of the men released may blame me and another of my coworkers for his capture. I'm just making sure that I'm ready if he decides to take action. He won't go after you or your family. If you see anything strange, just call the police and stay indoors," Mike answered.

"Shit," Bob said. At that moment he rather wished the loud renters who had lived there were still here.

"I'm sorry about that," Mike said. The telephone rang adding to the general level of confusion in the household. Rolling his eyes, Mike said, "Hold on for a minute."

Answering the telephone with his bad hand, Mike listened as Dale said, "I thought you might want to know that our mutual friend Chang is on board of a plane headed for China."

"That's good," Mike said feeling a wave of relief flow over him. He slid the gun into his holster and transferred the phone to his good hand.

"That's bad. Every one of those bastards is fleeing the country. Half of the staffs at their embassies have gone with them," Dale said.

"That's bad," Mike said. They weren't fleeing the country because they were afraid of getting prosecuted as spies.

"It gets worse. Every embassy party has been canceled for the next two weeks," Dale said.

"That's real bad," Mike said. It appeared that the email sent out by the Intelligence 100 had made its way to the embassies. He said, "It looks like they are taking the situation much more seriously than the President."

"The President truly believes that releasing the spies is going to convince their governments to help in halting the terrorist attacks," Dale said.

"That man is a fool," Mike said. He could just imagine the Iranians dancing in their offices at the news.

"Watch the television if you want to understand just how bad it is," Dale said.

"I will," Mike said.

"I better go now," Dale said.

Mike said, "I'd appreciate it if you'd call Sanjay and let him know. I sent him home with a gun just in case Chang decided to show up there."

"Good thinking. I'll give him a call now. I was really impressed by his little speech this afternoon," Dale said.

After hanging up the phone, Mike turned to face Bob. He raised a hand and said, "Let me get my wife. She'll want to hear this too."

"Okay," Bob said. He didn't think that the conversation over the phone sounded all that positive. There were a lot more utterance of 'that's bad, ' than 'that's good.'

At the door of the third bedroom, Mike called out, "Come on out, Karen. I've got good news."

Karen came out of the room looking very pensive and held Robert tightly in her arms. She asked, "What is it?"

"Chang is on board an airplane and headed to China," Mike answered.

Karen visibly relaxed. Bob figured out that was the man that had Mike so worried. He relaxed as well. Karen said, "That's the first piece of good news that I've heard all day."

Mike smiled at how Karen had cheered up as a result of the news. He said, "There was a bit of bad news, too."

"What?" Karen asked.

"Everyone is leaving Washington. Embassies are pulling out their people," Mike answered. He said, "The rumor is that everyone expects something to happen soon. We don't know what it is, but it is going to be big. I wouldn't worry about it. We aren't targets living out here. The terrorists are going to be going after big very visible targets, not residential neighborhoods."

Bob stared at Mike and asked, "Are you some sort of secret agent?"

Laughing at the image of him being a one-handed version of James Bond, Mike answered, "No. I'm just well connected."

Karen shifted the baby in her arms and said, "That does make me feel better."

"I'm still going to ask that you and Robert stay at my parent's house. I've got a feeling that I'm going to be busy. I'm pretty sure that the Admiral is going to be busy as well," Mike said. He said, "When I talked to your mom earlier, she said that they were moving the fleet offshore. She actually sounded a little relieved at the idea of staying with my parents."

"That makes sense. I bet they've got ships offshore of DC and New York City," Bob said thinking about the New Years Day Massacre.

Mike wished he had access to the current distribution of military assets. He knew that he could probably get the information at the Internet Café, but there was too much to do. He said, "Karen, you should probably pack up your stuff so that I can take you to my parent's house."

"Okay," she said.

Bob looked around and said, "I guess I should head home. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"It was no bother," Mike said as he showed Bob to the door. Before opening the door, he said, "Remember. Stay around the house and avoid crowds. Don't go into DC."

"Right," Bob said, "Thanks a lot. You've actually made me feel better."

Once Bob left, Mike turned on the television to the news. The reporters were covering the activities taking place at major airports around the country. It looked like mass chaos as people were lined up to buy tickets to flee the country. It didn't seem to matter which country they headed to; they just wanted to get out of this one.

The talking head on the news channel then started to discuss the mysterious memo sent out by a fanatical group called the Intelligence 100. Mike chuckled at hearing himself described as a member of a fanatical group. The White House was blaming the current panic on the actions of this group and promised to investigate the matter fully. Mike wondered why the reporters didn't bother to comment on the fact that the President was staying at Camp David.
Lazlo Zalezac
Lazlo Zalezac
Chapter 13