Chapter 8
Posted: July 10, 2007 - 01:22:26 pm


Mike was pleased to see that the website was still up and functional. There was a general announcement on the second page dealing with the current upheaval at the CIA. The first half of the message explained what was going on within the agency. The second half of the message was asking all those members of the website to remain in their positions and to keep as low of a profile as possible. Mike thought that keeping a low profile was good advice.

He noticed that there was a marker for changed information on the known double agents. The link was just begging him to follow it. Unable to resist, he clicked on the link. There was a similar marker beside Chang's name. Mike smiled and, as he clicked the link, said, "Let's see how your bosses reacted to the news."

One of the areas that were highlighted as recently updated concerned Chang's rank in the Chinese Ministry of State Security. Mike looked over it and saw that Chang had been promoted. It appeared that they approved of how Chang had handled the removal of two CIA agents. The agent responsible for the update was CIA009. Mike wondered if the man was going to stay with the agency.

There at the bottom of the page was a link to a transcript of a conversation between Chang and his Washington handler. Mike read the transcript with a smile. It looked to him like the Chinese were trying to figure out if the President was serious. Their advice to Chang was to lie low. He was a little disturbed to see his name in the report. It seemed that the Chinese were suggesting that he be maneuvered into submitting a poor analysis based on false data to see what would happen.

The agent responsible for that update was NSA004. He followed that link to see what recent updates NSA004 had made on the page. Looking over the list, it was obvious that the man was tracking the conversations held between double agents and their embassies. Following the link to the embassies, Mike found a list of known agent handlers. It was a much smaller list of individuals and showed the known agents for which each was responsible. He wasn't surprised to find the names of several dozen university professors among the list.

He returned back to the main page about Chang and followed the surveillance report on his trip to China. It was rather sketchy on details, but did include that he had spent most of his time with his wife and kids there. There was a mention of several meetings with one of the high level directors in the Chinese Ministry of State Security. There weren't any reports of him meeting with any researchers in the high energy labs.

Armed with the new data, Mike updated his page on the Chinese high energy weapons program. The picture that emerged suggested a far broader and more successful program than presented in the official reports. He provided excerpts from Chang's false report concerning the state of research in China. Those excerpts were copied to two places, his assessment of the energy program and Chang's biography. He assumed that it would help CIA009 figure out what Chang was doing while he had been in China.

Finished for the evening, Mike logged out and went to the counter as if he was going to pay. It was all part of looking like a regular customer. The man, Joe Dinkins, looked at Mike and said, "John, I've got a package here for you."

"Oh," Mike said. The man behind the counter always called him John as a way of establishing plausible deniability that he knew who he was.

Joe nodded his head and said, "It's just a little piece of security hardware."

Mike accepted the package and left. When he reached home, he went into the third bedroom that he was slowly turning into a study. After closing the door, he unwrapped the package. Inside were a pistol and a license to carry it. The federal carry permit was issued out of an unnamed government agency.

It was late one Saturday afternoon when Mike backed his car to the front door and parked it there. It didn't matter to him that he had driven over the yard. It was just a patch of dirt now that the weeds had died off. His car was sagging under the weight of the groceries he was hauling. He had a year's worth of food in the car.

After listening to the news the previous night, he and Karen had decided that it was time for them to prepare for the worst. Almost all of the terrorist detainees had been released from Guantánamo. More than two thousand terrorists had been set free overnight and some of them came to the United States to pursue unlawful detainment lawsuits. Mike was sure that they would create lots of chaos in the country before they were captured again.

While Mike carried a bag of groceries into the house Karen stood by the door of the third bedroom holding little Robert. The little baby was growing fast. She had a pensive look on her face. As he passed by, she asked, "Did you get enough for a year?"

"I think so, but you'll need to check out what I got," Mike said. He'd been to one of those discount warehouse places. The huge quantities that he had purchased did not look all that odd.

"Okay," Karen said.

Mike entered the room. He had abandoned the idea of a home office and had turned the third bedroom into a storage room. Bare metal shelves lined the walls. The shelves wouldn't remain bare for much longer. In the corner, he had a very large gun safe. It was already filled with enough weapons and ammunition to hold off an attacking army. Karen had not been happy to see the gun safe arrive, but she would have been even less happy to see it leave.

As he put the groceries on the shelf, he glanced over at Karen and noticed her stiff stance. Thinking it was due to the situation that had made them decide to stock up on food, he said, "You look a little upset. We discussed this."

Karen said, "I take it you didn't listen to the news."

"I can't take the news anymore," Mike said. It seemed to him that a day didn't go by in which the situation didn't get worse.

"There was a suicide bomber on the New York subway thirty minutes ago," Karen said shaking her head. With a sigh, she said, "We pull out of Iraq because our soldiers are dying from IEDs. Now the bastards are doing it here."

"We knew that was going to happen," Mike said with more than a little anger in his voice.

"The President is a jerk," Karen said focusing her blame on the most visible figurehead of the peace at any price movement.

Shaking his head, Mike said, "He's not the only one. Congress has redefined the terrorists from being irregular armed combatants to criminals. They now fall under the jurisdiction of local police. The courts have embraced that definition."

She knew that. Karen sighed and asked, "Can we immigrate to Australia?"

"I'm not giving up on this country, yet," Mike said. He looked at her and said, "Semper Fi."

Karen looked over at her husband and said, "I'm really scared about what's going on in this country. I could use a little comforting. After we've finished bringing in the groceries, can you spend a little time with me?"

"You aren't the only one who needs a little comforting darling. To tell the truth, I'm feeling a little shaky myself."

Karen knew that he was saying that to make her feel better. He'd hold her all day and night if that was what it took to make her feel better and she knew that. She'd reward him with a little loving and she knew that he suspected that, but didn't expect it. Smiling, she said, "Okay."

Mike knocked on Dale's office door. Hearing the invitation to enter, Mike walked into the office and closed the door behind him. With a sick expression on his face, he said, "We've lost track of the Iranian rail gun."

The number of intelligence failures had been rising steadily. With so many agents having resigned, they couldn't keep up with what enemies of the country were doing. Dale shook his head and asked, "Where do you think it went?"

"I can't even guess. I still don't know why they built it. Maybe they shipped it to Lebanon. Parts of Israel are within range of the weapon if it is set up in Hezbollah controlled territory," Mike answered making reference to the fact that Iran was a major supporter of Hezbollah.

"Is that what you think happened to it?" Dale asked.

"That's just a wild assed guess," Mike answered. A rail gun wouldn't leave the tell-tale signature of a rocket. Hezbollah would be able to fire it at Israel without much risk of it being taken out in retaliation.

Nodding his head, Dale said, "Write up your best assessment of the situation and we'll forward it to Israel. They should know about it if there's even a chance of it showing up in their backyard."

"Right," Mike answered noticing that Dale didn't suggest reporting it within the normal CIA channels.

Dale looked over at Mike with a smile and said, "Your report on the Chinese high energy weapons program was a masterpiece."

"I should have won a Noble Prize for fiction," Mike said with a snort of disgust.

Laughing at the expression on Mike's face, Dale said, "There wasn't any fiction there. It didn't say anything despite weighing a ton. I think you invented new waffle words."

"Thank you," Mike said. He had fought with Chang over the lack of details within the report. All argument had ended when Mike had threatened to include Chang as a co-author to the report.

"Chang wasn't too pleased with the report. He thought you should have been a little firmer in your assessment that the Chinese were behind us in most areas," Dale said.

"I'm sure that he did," Mike said thankful of the warning that the Chinese had planned to announce a major advance in their free- electron laser research right after his report was due. If he ever found out who CIA009 was, he was going to buy the man all the beer he could drink.

Dale nodded his head and said, "Be careful."

The withdrawal from Iraq meant that forces were redistributed among the various military installations around the world. One consequence of that was that Colonel Robert Bowman was assigned to the Pentagon. Mike was looking forward to having his father in the area.

Being a good Marine Officer wife, Louise undertook the effort to relocate with the kind of ease that came from lots of experience. She flew out twice to the Washington, D.C. area to scout the housing market and purchased a house on her third visit. Mike had only been able to visit with her one evening of each of those trips. She finally flew in and spent the night at Mike's home while waiting for her husband to join them. Louise was so enamored with the baby that Mike barely got a chance to talk with her.

Colonel Robert Bowman strode out to the luggage area and looked around with eyes that didn't miss much. He spotted Mike and headed over to him knowing that Louise would be there waiting with him. Spotting Louise holding a baby in her hands, Robert winked at Mike and said, "My God woman, I'm gone a year and come back to find that you have a baby in your arms."

Louise laughed at the joke and said, "That's right. Say hello to your grandson, Robert Vincent Bowman."

Robert looked at the baby and said, "Robert Bowman. Hmm, I rather like that name. It's a good name for a Marine."

Turning to face Mike, Robert said, "He's a fine looking boy."

"Thanks, Colonel," Mike said with a grin.

Robert shook his head and asked, "Are you ever going to stop calling me Colonel?"

"Only when you become a General," Mike answered.

Robert extended his hand and Mike took it in a handshake. The big man pulled Mike in for a hug and said, "It's good to see you again, Son."

"It's good to see you," Mike said.

Looking down at the cast, Robert asked, "The last time I saw you, you were wearing a cast on that hand. What happened?"

"He says that he had an accident in the delivery room, but I'm convinced that I broke it," Karen said looking at Mike trying to judge his reaction.

Robert picked her up in a hug and said, "Little girl, it takes a bit more than a tiny little thing like you to break a Marine's hand. If he says he had an accident, then don't fret about it."

"Yes, Colonel," Karen said laughing.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd take Robert out of my wife's hands for a minute. Her and I have to greet each other," Robert said winking at his wife.

Mike and Karen were seated in the front row of the auditorium at the Pentagon. Sally was seated beside them holding Robert in her lap. At the front of the room, Captain Vincent Dougherty was in the process of becoming Admiral Vincent Dougherty. The entire family was present to watch the ceremony.

Unable to help it, Mike winced when the Admiral snapped off a salute to the President and the President returned it without much energy. He looked around the room and noticed that all of the officers looked uneasy. Each of them stood stiff with rigid expressions on their faces. The past year had not been easy for the upper ranks of the military. More than a quarter of the flag level officers had retired. It appeared that the President blamed them for the failure to win the war in Iraq.

As soon as the ceremony was over, the President left. The atmosphere in the room became immediately friendlier, but not much more relaxed. The Admiral circulated around the room shaking hands with friends and colleagues. The congratulations offered were tinged with a hint of reserve. Not everyone was sure that it was a good career move.

When the Admiral reached Mike, he said, "I'm glad that you were able to come."

"Well, Admiral, you got your wish," Mike said. He noticed the puzzled looks from some of the men around him. Many of them felt that the promotion meant that Vincent would be leaving the service soon.

"What wish was that?" Vincent asked raising an eyebrow.

"I won't be calling you Captain anymore," Mike answered with a grin.

The comment seemed to thaw the rather frigid atmosphere in the room. It was a reminder that they operated in a world that extended beyond the anti-military view of the President. Little conversations broke out across the room as people relaxed. Vincent winked and said, "All Marines are good for is swabbing the decks."

One of the Marine Generals in attendance overheard the comment and laughed. He asked, "What's that, Vince?"

At a gesture from the Admiral, Mike answered, "Well, General. When I showed up to date his daughter, the Admiral told me that and ordered me to wash his kitchen floor. I did."

The General slapped the side of his hip and laughed. Grinning at his friend, he said, "I remember a certain young Naval Officer doing the same thing when he met his girlfriend's father for the first time. Isn't that right, Vince?"

Sally looked at her husband, arched an eyebrow, and then asked, "Uh, what was that?"

"Um, that was before I ever met you," the Admiral said looking over at his friend wishing he hadn't said that. The General just laughed and slapped him on the back.

Mike entered the conference room and waited by the door. One of the men at the conference table gestured to a chair and said, "Please have a seat, Mr. Bowman."

Walking around the table to the indicated seat, Mike examined the review panel. On taking his seat, a woman asked, "What is your job function here?"

"I'm an intelligence analyst," Mike answered examining the woman. It was his understanding that she had been a lawyer for the ACLU before being asked to join the Presidential Intelligence Review Committee. This was the committee the President had put into place to reform the CIA. All they had accomplished was to make their life miserable.

One of the men asked, "What subject area are you responsible for?"

"That's classified," Mike answered keeping his expression neutral. He was furious at having been called to this meeting.

"We have the appropriate clearances," the woman said.

"I believe you, but I can't reveal classified information to you until the appropriate procedure has been followed," Mike answered.

The man pushed Mike's report onto the table and said, "We have this document you authored. Is that proof enough?"

Mike glanced at the report and pulled out a pen from his pocket. He wrote the document number on his hand. Looking up, he said, "No. In fact, I'll have to report that this document is in your possession in case it has been acquired through nefarious means."

Surprised at the charge, the woman said, "You can't do that."

"Yes, I can. In fact, I must do that," Mike answered. Leaning forward, he looked her straight in the eye and said, "I take my responsibilities very seriously. I follow all of the procedures and guidelines established by the Presidential Intelligence Review Committee. One of those guidelines is that we are to report all attempts to subvert the security of this country through political pressure to misuse or misrepresent secure information. Without following due process, I have to assume that the four of you are doing exactly that."

Infuriated at having their own rules thrown back at them, one of the men at the table turned bright red and said, "Get out of here."

"Yes, sir," Mike said rising from his seat.

Outside the conference room, Mike glanced down at his watch and smiled. Less than five minutes had passed since he had entered the conference room. It had to be the shortest interrogation in the history of the Presidential Intelligence Review Committee.

On reaching his cubicle, he reported the presence of the document in the conference room to security. He hadn't delivered a threat, he had made a promise. Rather than getting back to work, he sat back waiting for the fallout from his actions. He wondered what would happen next. It was quite possible that he'd be searching for a position in the private sector soon.

It was an hour later that Dale stopped by his cubicle and said, "Come with me to my office."

Once there, Mike dropped into the offered chair and, in an innocent voice, asked, "What's up?"

"The shit has really hit the fan," Dale said with a smile. He had personally watched the four members of the Presidential Intelligence Review Committee be led off from the premises in handcuffs. Grinning he said, "It appears that there has been a major scandal originating from the White House concerning improper treatment of classified information."

"Really?" Mike asked with a grin.

"It appears that members of the Presidential Intelligence Review Committee walked out of the White House carrying classified material without following the appropriate procedures. They convened a meeting in which classified materials were going to be discussed without making the appropriate security arrangements. They attempted to get access to additional classified information without having established their bona fides," Dale said. The Assistant Director of the CIA had made sure to make as big of a deal out of this case as was possible despite the fact that it was commonly accepted that political types played loose and fast with classified information.

"You don't say," Mike said as if it was all news to him.

"Did you really use the word nefarious?" Dale asked chuckling. He had never heard anyone use that word in a real conversation.

"Yes," Mike said.

"Good job," Dale said with a grin. Looking across his desk, he said, "I suggest that now would be a good time for you to lie low for a while. I think you should pack your bags and head out to Sandia. You should plan on leaving Sunday. It appears that they are about ready to test that rail gun of yours."

The baby had finally fallen asleep after crying for half an hour. Mike looked over at his wife and saw how exhausted she was from taking care of the baby. Concerned that she was going to get sick, he said, "You really look tired. Why don't you go to bed now?"

About to object that it was too early in the evening to go to bed, Karen reconsidered her objection. Two o'clock was too early in the morning to wake up to feed the baby. Nodding her head, she said, "That's not a bad idea."

Smiling at her, he asked, "Would you like me to hold you while you fall asleep?"

"That would be heavenly," Karen said.

Mike held Karen until she was sound asleep. He eased out of the bed and returned to the living room. Putting the television on mute, he settled into his chair to watch an old black and white movie. The news was just too depressing to watch. He was on his third movie when little Robert woke up.

Mike ran in and picked the baby up. He carried him out of their bedroom and into the kitchen. After heating a bottle of breast milk that Karen had put in the refrigerator earlier, he carried the baby to the living room. While feeding him, he said, "I'm watching one of those old movies that were made even before I was born. That's a long time ago, Robert.

"It was a different world back when this movie was made. People felt proud to be an American. It was our Manifest Destiny to become one of the greatest nations in the world. We had soldiers who were national heroes with names that everyone recognized. We had actors like John Wayne who embodied everything American.

"I was born when there was still an Iron Curtain. It fell while I was a sophomore in high school, but I remember what it was like growing up with the communist threat hanging over me. The Colonel, that's your grandfather, used to tell me about how the communists wanted to take over the world. He fought the communists in really horrible countries, but he can't really talk about it."

Robert was much more interested in the bottle of milk than in the story. That didn't stop Mike from continuing, "One of these days, I imagine that you'll be sitting in a chair like this feeding your child and telling him similar stories about how the world was way back when things were good. Of course, one of the stories you'll have to tell is how your daddy broke his hand when you were born."

Karen had wakened when Robert had first cried. After lying, half asleep, in bed for a few minutes waiting for him to cry again, she got worried and went to the basinet. When she found the basinet empty, she went to the bedroom door in time to see Mike settle into his chair with Robert in his arms. She listened to her husband tell Robert the history of the world according to Mike for a few minutes. She smiled and went back to bed pleased that she'd get a full night's sleep.

She was half asleep when Mike came in with Robert. After setting him in the crib, Mike said, "I love you, little fella, just like I love your mother. You're the two most important things in my life."
Lazlo Zalezac
Chapter 9