Beyond Top Secret: A Zach Taylor Adventure Page 3

  “I know. I think you will find Habib more than informative.”

  “Glad to hear that, so who am I pretending to be?”

  “Why you’re my big brother,” Jared said, then laughed.

  “Ugh, why do you do that to me?”

  “Just want to make sure you don’t forget about me.”

  Agents who could pull it off, based on physical similarities, liked Jake to play the brother role. Since brothers are typically closer, it tested Jake’s knowledge of the agent. Which in turn stroked the agent's ego as it showed they were not an unknown to the agency. Jake surmised long periods of time in the field made an agent feel like an outsider. The issue Jake had with the role was he wanted to be believable. And the possibility of a slip up seemed more likely. However, if the agent wanted him to play the brother role, he would gladly oblige.

  Though they had some time before dinner, Jake suggested they make their way to the restaurant. On the ride over, Jared provided further details on current events that had not been part of his report. To Jake, the main difference between what Jared knew and what Harry knew were names. That type of detail meant this informant had closer contacts and not second-hand accounts of possible events.

  When they reached their destination, Jared said, “Groninger’s, is a traditional German beer house and restaurant. It’s the best place in town for meats, especially if you like big hunks of pork. Oh, and the beer is also pretty phenomenal.”

  Jared noticed a puzzled look on Jake’s face and instantly understood the reason, and said, “Don’t worry the name ‘Habib’ might sound Muslim but he’s not and loves this place.”

  Personally, Jake preferred a refined meal with delicate nuances in flavors, back on his plane, but understood this trip wasn't about him. When they entered the building the noise level was so loud, it rivaled a ‘Who’ concert from the seventies. Jake's first thought was a concern it would be impossible to talk here but soon realized this was the perfect place for a private conversation since no one would be able to overhear them.

  The restaurant was a massive cellar with weathered red brick walls, quaint paintings, polished copper beer-making apparatus, and long tables with wooden stools at the head of each table. Many of the stools had a small keg of beer on top and rowdy, intoxicated patrons continually poured themselves a mugful. Escorted to a small table off to the side, in what could best be described as a giant beer barrel, Jake and Jared took their seats. While the noise was thunderous, the barrel muffled it enough that they could talk at only a marginally increased volume and still hear each other.

  The table’s location gave Jared an unobstructed view towards the entrance. When Habib came through the door, Jared got up and went over to greet him. “Hello Habib, my brother is looking forward to meeting you.”

  In impeccable English with an Oxford influence, Habib said, “Jared, I too look forward to our meeting.”

  Back at the table, Jared introduced the two men. Habib was a cordial man, but his current interest was to get the dinner and beer ordered. What the two men ordered seemed ridiculous to Jake; braised pork knuckle, pickled pig snout, various sausages, cured pork, sauerkraut, and potato salad. Not interested in overindulgence Jake ordered; roast chicken, sauteed mushrooms, and kale. Habib shook his head at Jake’s order as if to say, what a waste with so many delicious meats to enjoy. Jake smiled at Habib and ordered another round of beers for the table. While they waited for their order, small-talk of no significance was the theme of the conversation.

  When a massive amount of food arrived, it took extraordinary skills by the server to make it all fit on the tabletop. Jake instantly got down to why he was here and said, “Habib, do you mind sharing what you and Jared already talked about?”

  Habib obliged and started a lengthy dissertation of what he knew. A jihadist cell had taken up residence in Hamburg and was more extreme than other groups. They also seemed to foster an intense interest in flying. Members of the cell bought flight simulation software and took flight lessons. There was a constant parade of people staying at an apartment, and several were more frequent residents than others.

  Mohammed Atta was from Egypt, and the lease on the apartment was in his name. Other names that needed attention included; Marwin al-Shehhi from United Arab Emirate, Ziad Jarrah from Lebanon, and Ramzi bin al-Shibh from Yemen. A high-level member of Al-Queda, Khalid Sheikh Mohammed from Pakistan, was also known to drop in on occasion. Khalid worked directly with Osama bin Laden in Afghanistan, and Habib was sure the Americans had heard of bin Laden, so he didn’t bother to elaborate.

  By name, not a subconscious emphasis, he mentioned the same countries as Aashif as places where they should focus their attention. While Habib did not have anything specific, from all the talk he heard, this was more than the typical vague hatred discourse of America. Some actionable plan to hurt Americans was in the works.

  As a final comment, Habib said, “I am sorry I do not have further details. As always, I will keep Jared informed.”

  “Don’t be sorry, you have been more than helpful, and I can’t begin to tell you how much it’s appreciated,” Jake said.

  “How about one last beer?” Habib said, already ordering another round.

  Once they finished their last beers, warm goodbye’s were exchanged, and the three men left the restaurant. Waving a final goodbye Jared and Jake got into Jared’s car. Ready to relax and process the evening, Jake asked Jared to take him back to the plane.

  “Thank you, Jared, this was a very informative trip,” Jake said, as he exited the car.

  Lowering the car window, Jared said, “Thank you, Jake,” and drove off.

  Jake boarded the plane and told the pilot to park it here overnight, and that plans might change in the morning. He needed a clear head for the next day, so Jake headed to his room and crawled into bed. It took only a few minutes, and he was sound asleep. It was zero six hundred hours when Jake was torn from his deep sleep by the constant ring of his phone, “Hello.”

  “It’s Jared. He’s dead, Habib is dead.”

  The words erased all sense of grogginess from Jake’s body. Like a slap in the face, he couldn’t have been any more alert, “What happened?”

  “He was murdered last night, and whoever did it was sending a message.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He was left lying in the street with his tongue cut out. They wanted what they did to be an unambiguous message.”

  “For whom?”

  The question was as much for himself as it was for Jared. Had he or Jared been made? While it didn’t seem plausible, the agency had excellent covers, why else would a man they just had dinner with show up dead the next morning? Troubled, Jake knew he needed to determine a course of action but needed more information.

  “Jared, I need you to unearth what Habib did after we left. I’m also sending in a team of silent shadows.”

  There was no immediate response from Jared. Jared knew who silent shadows were, but he didn’t know of an instance where they had been sent in under these circumstances. They were an elite group of agents renowned for their ability to covertly tail targets without detection. That was only part of a shadow’s mission; the ‘silent’ part was what caused Jared to become speechless. The other skill they possessed was their ability to eliminate a target and not raise any suspicions of foul play. He wondered if this was how the agency dealt with the possible exposure of an agent. With reluctance and uncertainty in his voice, he said, “Okay then.”

  It took a moment, but then Jake realized the impetus in Jared’s tone and said, “The silent doesn’t apply to you, Jared. If you determine Habib’s murder was meant as a message for you, we will reassign you. You have nothing to worry about. We don’t silence our agents.”

  Relieved, Jared said, “That’s good to know. I will start digging into what happened and call you as soon as I know something.”

  Jake called the European headquarters and told them to send a team asap. The response was a team
would be there in three hours. With that out of the way, Jake needed to decide on his plans for the rest of the trip. That, however, would be difficult to do without more information on what provoked the murder of Habib. While he waited to hear back from Jared, Jake pulled up the agents’ reports and reread them.

  Similarities between the various accounts made him question his hasty decision to see each agent and informant personally. It was clear his agents had a solid grasp of the situation and the names validated by Habib was a reasonable place to start. With a decision made, Jake stepped from his room, found the pilot and told him the rest of the trip was no longer necessary. They could head home once he met with the shadow team and had heard back from Jared.

  At zero nine thirty hours, the shadow team arrived and assembled in the rented hanger and waited for Jake’s arrival. When Jake showed up, he welcomed the group, gave them all a list of suspects and asked them to see what they could find out while he waited to hear from Jared. In due time Jake’s phone rang.

  When he answered the phone, Jared blurted out, “Good news, well not for Habib but at least for us.”

  “I take it that means we weren’t made?”

  “Correct, we weren’t. It seems Habib went back to the restaurant after we left and helped himself to several more beers.”

  “I got the impression at dinner that he likes his beer.”

  “Anyway, Habib ran into a prominent local politician, didn't hold back and told him what he thought. The problem was Habib started insulting the man about how he was handling his wife's frequent infidelities.”

  “Not a good way to make friends.”

  “No kidding, but let me finish. I guess the man didn’t appreciate being dressed down in public and sent a message no one could ignore. I don't know if there were other mitigating circumstances, but that’s the scuttlebutt on the street.”

  “That is good news for us, but it’s a shame we lost a good informant over something as trivial as an insult.”

  “I agree. It’s going to take me a long time to find and develop that kind of relationship again. Is there anything else you need from me?”

  “No, not right now. At least with the shadow team here we can monitor the suspects Habib named. Bye Jared.”

  Since the incident didn’t impact the agency, Zach informed the shadow team there wouldn’t be any ‘eliminate’ order at this time. He also made it clear each of the targets were to be followed until further notice.

  Back in his Virginia office, Jake debated whether he should pass this on to Dirk, his agent in the state department. Dirk’s job was to; obscurely pass information on to the intelligence community, and straightforwardly pass information on to the secretary of state. The secretary would then determine the dissemination of the information to others in government. Through all this Dirk's name would never come up as the source. Since there were no specific threats involved, Jake contacted Dirk and told him to get the names to the intelligence agencies and not bother the secretary.

  ~~~ 2001 ~~~

  Over the past year, Jake had seen the names Habib mentioned show up in various reports. They had actively sought visa’s to the United States which indicated the Hamburg cell had plans to come to America. Early in the year, Jake asked Dirk to pass this on to the secretary and confirm the intelligence community was aware of the activities. Around mid-year Jake learned that; Mohammed Atta, Marwin al-Shehhi, Ziad Jarrah, and another person of interest Hani Hanjour, were all in America. These men were either in flight training or had already taken it. He didn’t understand; first, why they were even allowed in the country; and second, why hadn’t any of the intelligence agencies taken any action.

  By July, Jake’s anxiety level rivaled a father waiting for the birth of a child. Except for his shadow team, assigned back in Hamburg, the apparent lack of concern or action was unfathomable. The positive was his team could easily take care of an active threat, which was what he thought they had. This time he sent a message to Dirk that was only to be relayed to the secretary, it said “Eighty-five percent certain of terrorist action that will involve planes in the next ninety days. Should I execute a threat elimination plan?”

  There was no response to his question. Two weeks passed, and Jake still had not heard from the secretary. The certainty increased on a daily basis, and he began sending Dirk the message every day. Despite the increase in confidence Jake never received a response.

  What the hell are the president and secretary thinking, Jake thought?

  On August thirtieth, he received a brief report, all it said was September eleventh was a hard date for the attack. Immediately he sent a new message to Dirk that needed to be passed onto the secretary. The letter said, “Confirmed terrorist attack scheduled, we only have eleven days to neutralize the enemy. Need a ‘strike’ message immediately.”

  Again no response, during the next several days he sent the same message, with added exclamation points and increased font size in a futile attempt to stress the importance. Jake even began to question his own agent’s actions. Was Dirk the source of the problem? Jake knew better and dismissed that possibility. The shadow team was utterly baffled, why hadn’t Jake told them to strike. Just as confused, Jake decided he needed to be more direct with his message, and sent a new communication, “Hey idiots, untold numbers of civilians will be killed by these terrorists in three days. Get your head’s out of your ass’s and send me a ‘strike approved’ reply.” Unfortunately, Jake was a man of discipline and followed protocol to the letter. While he knew what needed to be done, without approval, he felt his hands were tied. Over the final three days, Jake never slept, unable to wrap his head around the continued silence. He felt certain a last-minute strike order would come in, so he waited, convinced there must be a strategic reason they were waiting to send the order.

  On the morning of September Eleventh Jake was in his office when the news came in. The twin towers had been attacked; airplanes had flown into the side of the buildings. It was as if a volcano erupted in his head. In a blur of anger, Jake thought, Why? I could have stopped this. Why was I ignored? There and then he resolved to change things. Protocol needed to give him the authority to take action in a critical situation based solely on his assessment. If that change were not made, FAPS would cease operation.

  Chapter 4

  Washington DC 2002 CE

  Early in the year, the president had called a meeting of influential businesspeople in the oval office. Among those in attendance, which seemed odd to the other executives, was Jake Dunlap. Jake had not visited the oval office before and felt uncomfortable with the decision to be seen with the president. When the summit concluded, the president asked Jake to stay behind. The president excused his staff. Jake and the president were alone in the oval office.

  “Jake, I understand your frustrations and concerns regarding your agencies role. Let me assure you I share your frustrations. We both know you were in a position to stop the attack last September, but protocol got in your way.”

  “Yes sir, Mr. President, I was ready to walk away that day but knew that wouldn’t be in the best interest of the country.”

  “You’re right, and I agree with your assessment. From here on out, I am giving you the authority to take unilateral action in all situations that affect national security.”

  “Just to be clear sir, you are saying that I no longer need to wait for your approval to eliminate a potential threat?”

  “That’s correct. Checks and balances are great, but sometimes bureaucracy can get in the way of resolving critical situations. I have complete faith in your decision making, and know you will only implement extreme actions when it’s necessary.”

  “Thank you for your confidence in me, sir. I assure you I will use due diligence before deciding to bypass the established protocol.”

  “I’m sure you will, and thank you for your service.”

  Jake excused himself. He felt vindicated by the president’s decision. Never again would protocol tie his hands
when there was a crisis to be resolved.

  Jake returned to his office, and unrelated to the oval office meeting handed Sandy a piece of paper with eight names on it. Based on an unfortunate incident within the agency, Jake needed to build a new rapid response team. “Sandy, get hold of these men and set up a meeting with each of the individuals as soon as they’re available.”

  “I’ll get on it right away.” Sandy took the list and feverishly worked to find contact information for each person. By the end of the day, Sandy had arranged meetings with every one of the men.

  Blue Ridge Mountains

  It had been a warm spring, and Zach was able to head to his mountain retreat earlier than he had in prior years. With no adventure planned Zach wanted to spend as much time as possible here, while he had the chance. On his third day, he received an odd phone call. Some lady, Sandy something, wanted him to come to Virginia to meet her boss. Her boss had seen some of his adventure shows and wanted to tag along on one of Zach’s next expeditions. She made it clear money was no object, and first class tickets would be at the airport if he agreed to come. Sandy’s only stipulation was her boss wanted this to happen four day’s from now. As a man of adventure Zach saw no downside, except being away from his cabin, and agreed to meet without hesitation.

  Virginia

  Zach arrived at the nondescript building, then checked his notes to confirm he was where he should be. The sign on the building identified this as the home of Dunlap Import Exports. At the right place, he pushed the door open and strode into the lobby. Zach told the receptionist his name and waited as she made a call. In a soft voice, she announced Zach’s arrival, then hung up the phone. Sandy buzzed Jake and informed him that Zach had arrived and was in the lobby.

  “They will be with you shortly,” the receptionist said.

  “Thank you,” Zach replied.

  As Zach made his way to the sofa, he glanced around the room, decorated with all the trappings of a legitimate import-export company. In his gut, Zach wasn’t convinced. He had no concrete evidence but had a level of wariness that questioned the legitimacy of the proclaimed business entity. To rationalize his trepidation, Zach asked himself why an owner of an import-export business would fly him here first class on a moments notice. The reason for the meeting seemed reasonable, at the time, but now he pondered the veracity of the explanation.