Chapter 39 - Zen and the Art of Intelligence Affairs

Left “alone” in the massive space that made up the CIA’s most secret safe house, Finne and Sarah separated, each heading in opposite directions.

Sarah set her sights on the wet bar at one corner of the room. The dark wooden décor at that end of the facility was comfortably appointed with a large leather sofa, billiards table, dart boards, and a 60 inch HD monitor currently displaying a psychedelic montage of colors and patterns that were harmonized with the music reverberating across the room. Uncle John’s Band had leached into a brilliant version of Ripple and the pub-like room seemed to glow with every note. Sarah danced her way to the liquor shelf, finding an unopened handle of Jack Daniels and a refrigerator full of every possible mixer she could desire, including her go to cocktail companion, Coca-Cola. Finne expected Sarah to sink into the sofa and likely pass out after a drink or two. He had seen the exhaustion in her eyes back at the Chicken Ranch and knew she must have been coming off of a several day bender partying and not sleeping. Sarah needed rest and there seemed to be no place safer for her to get it then here.

Finne headed toward the opposite wall where DCI Thompson had gestured and promised several open access terminals at his disposal. Finne too was exhausted, but the detective within him continued to seek answers and clues to unravel the mystery behind the events of the past thirty-six hours. Sitting down to an open cubicle, Finne jiggled the computer mouse waking the screen in front of him. He began typing his first query on the sleek keyboard integrated into the desk’s surface. The input was captured in a Google-like search box on the home portal screen that started up with the computer’s awakening. Finne knew the portal to be a derivative of the Secret Internet Protocol Network or SIPRNet widely shared amongst US military, Intelligence, and Law Enforcement agencies. The only difference in this case was that there was no requirement to logon to the portal and establish valid credentials and clearance. On this workstation, the root query form was presented without restriction. Finne wanted to explore further and deeper than he could using Clue Tube or the Treasury department intelligence assets. Experienced in the basic navigation and toolsets provided by the SIPRNet portal, Finne began issuing commands through the workstation to retrieve and cross-reference several datasets from across a disparate spectrum of topicality he believed to be relevant.

His first query was simply the term “Watchkeeper” – which Jack had disclosed as being the paramount of security clearance code words within the US IC. Presented on the screen in return was an aggregated list of names, photos, biographies, and a multitude of intelligence attributes for eleven of twelve rows of “juror” data. The twelfth row was blank and contained only the solemn term “Vacant.” Finne read each row of data and with it learned about each juror: the President of the United States, National Security Advisor, Director of National Intelligence, Director of Central Intelligence, National Security Agency Administrator, Jack, himself, four seemingly ordinary citizens, and to his surprise, Sarah. Finne chuckled at the codename Sheriff assigned to him. He wondered if he was the only law enforcement agent amongst the group or if the code name was chosen for another altruistic reason. Sarah, he read was code named Empath. Interesting. Maybe there was more to Sarah than he had judged.

Finne continued to pursue thread after thread of aggregated detail from within the cyber depths of the IC’s repositories. Multiple windows stacked neatly together collocating on the screen to provide a clear visual connection between connected queries. Ninety minutes had passed before Finne was pulled from his focused concentration by Sarah’s hand gently placed on his shoulder.

Sarah stood behind Finne at the workstation beginning to read over his shoulder. “What’s all this?” she asked.

Finne was surprised by Sarah inquisition, and his first reaction was to shield the highly classified information from her view. He began to spurt out a lie with the intent to draw Sarah’s attention elsewhere, but stopped short in his falsity. Finne realized that Sarah had the same right to know what Finne knew. She was a “juror” too. Jack’s initial instruction that she not be trusted with any secrets was likely just a supportive suggestion to help Finne deal with flight from the staged accident scene where they were brought back together hours earlier. If Sarah were allowed to be in this uber-secret room, then she was allowed access to anything within, Finne figured. He pulled a chair from the adjoining workstation for Sarah to sit next to him. Finne began explaining the windows of information on the screen to her and what connections he was developing between this data and assassination attempts against the two of them today.

Chapter 40 - Eggs Benedict in Bed

Christie Stallworth’s motorcade returned to the grounds of the Naval Observatory hurriedly with lights flashing passing through all of the intersections en route northwestward along Massachusetts Ave without obstruction regardless of the string of red traffic lights they encountered.  Second Lady Stallworth’s driver kept pace with the leading Secret Service vehicle at a distance no further than eight feet between bumpers.  The two vehicles traveled as if in harmonious rhythm at a consistent sixty miles-an-hour pace weaving between street lanes in a rigidly tandem demonstration of professional driving passing vehicle after vehicle full of inquisitive motorists attempting to catch a glimpse of the motorcade’s occupants as they lawfully yielded to the their passing.  The SUVs speed and blackened windows prevented any disclosure of the identity of the VIP occupants within to external eyes.  Inside her vehicle, Christie had fully reassembled herself in both make-up and attire.  She lowered the privacy partition that separated her from her Secret Service driver and security detail lead while turning down the volume on the rear satellite radio she had been blaring to herself along the ride home.

“Bring me around back to the kitchen entrance. Thanks,” she instructed without any concern that her request nor her extramarital jaunt would be judged by either of the two agents.   

The motorcade turned into the Naval Observatory compound through the main gate and proceeded along the entry drive up toward the Vice President’s mansion. It passed the formal entrance used to greet the many powerful guests that arrived for countless dinners and galas hosted by the Second couple.  After turning past the northeast corner of the mansion the lead vehicle slowed and turned left at a fork in the driveway while Mrs. Stallworth’s vehicle viered off on the right fork toward the rear service entrance of the building.  It stopped directly in front of a wide staircase that led up to a rear entrance to the first floor kitchen.

Passing through the steel galley-ways that ordered the layout of the industrial-sized production facility with ease and confidence that comes with repetitive behavior, Christie hailed to the head steward and ordered a drink to be delivered to the family’s personal quarters.  Her lips faintly cracked into a smile of self-delight in her ability to sneak off and back again before her husband could return for the night.  She knew the Vice President would return momentarily, though having beaten him home, she also knew she would not have to explain her absence.

Christie passed through the large first floor parlor rooms and up the grand staircase to reach the residence above.  Upon entry she was greeted by the warmth and pleasant aroma of a crackling fire in the reading room to her right where she chose to stage herself to await her husband’s return.  The head steward knocked then entered the residence delivering Christie the martini she requested exactly as she ordered every night. 

Upon the stewards departure, Christie took advantage of her solitude and removed the special package she had been given by Jon-E back in the motel and discreetly hid it behind a set of leather-bound, first-edition Lewis Carroll novels that were centered on the fourth shelf up from the floor to the right of the hearty stone fireplace.  The package would be as safe from discovery here as it would be anywhere else within the residence quarters.  She knew her husband to never be inclined to read unless he was commanded to do so, so the novels made for a perfect hiding place in plain sight that she could monitor with ease.  If the contents of that package were to be discovered, she knew that it would result in a comprehensive criminal investigation that could bring down many, if not the very most powerful political figure in the United States. 

If you tell one person, you’ve told one too many, she thought to herself compartmenting her secret within her mind.

Chapter 41 - The Fish Were Rising Up Like Birds

“Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world…But the heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own…”

Finne took comfort in the familiarity of the symphonic orchestration of guitar, bass, and percussion that filled the room.  His first thought upon hearing the initial bantering twangs of Jerry’s guitar and Phil’s bass as the Dead transitioned from Playin’ in the Band to Eyes of the World was that he may have been at this show.  Hampton came to mind, along with a long lost history of touring between his high school and college years.  The relevance of the lyrics did not escape him as he considered the awakening Sarah had just experienced.  Her eyes were now open to a world far beyond her capability to perceive before the read in she just experienced.  He stared across the room at her as she held her head over her knees sitting in the middle of the deep leather couch that appeared to be swallowing her.  She looked as if her head literally held too much information within, and the weight of this load required both of her hands to hold up.  Finne truly anguished for her within his heart. 

Many, many times in his career Finne had seen the immense impact upon colleagues, peers, and subordinates when they were confronted with similar wealths of classified information that had been surrounding their lives invisibly until they were cleared to be read in to the circle of trust.  Some people couldn’t handle it. Others decomposed mentally into depression when they learned about the lengths at which the artificial world they previously had known around them deliberately had been fabricated to obscure their reality and hide them from the truth.  Yet, there were the few that thrived through these metamorphoses, including many of the world’s most admired politicians and celebrities whom had launched into the spotlight by the attention and admiration they had gained on the far side of the looking glass.  After breaching through, they leveraged their popularity to achieve successes that could never be obtained before their initiations. 

Finne could not tell yet how Sarah would fair through this transformation from outsider to within.  He wanted to continue consoling her, but her retreat to the sofa clearly told him to leave her alone to her thoughts as she tried to process all that she had learned.  In support of Sarah, he withheld his words and sat patiently waiting for her to reach outwards.

Finally, she did.  “I still don’t know who tried to kill me today. You haven’t explained that to me. “ Sarah said, speaking firmly to Finne.

“I don’t have that answer yet. That’s why we’re here.  Because we’re safe now.” Jack replied.

“You may have more of that answer than you realize, Finne.” Interjected a commanding voice entering the room from the far corner of the room.

Finne turned and recognized the hulky, square-jawed silhouette approaching him.  It was Jack, his “gardian angel” or so he was told the last time they had met.  

Chapter 42 - Truth Venom

Savoring her emotions of imminent grandeur and her several sexual triumphs today, Christie sat anxiously with her cigarette on the blue stone terrace outside the mansion’s main foyer.  

Although the extending acreage provided a densely secure enclosure, Christie felt her exposure to the world far more than her naked body offered to any scoping eyes. Little did she care to actually adorn the silk robe she grabbed along with her smokes when she left the bedroom for the patio she frequented to satisfy her habit.  She had left David fully satisfied after a vigorous fuck.  He was sound asleep and had been well handled. 

Christie knew how to push his buttons to incite his rage, and she loved the control she commanded.  She had confronted her husband, Vice President David Stallworth, upon his return to the Naval Observatory grounds in front of his Chief of Staff and closest aides.  She knew that to be an immediate and aggressive act, which David could not ignore. 

“How was your dinner with the Prime Minister?” she began her interrogation of the Vice President as he exited his limousine.  She had been waiting for her husband longer than the five minutes estimated by her staff with drink in hand – her hand. 

Christie was already near the bottom of her third martini since arriving at the residence and she was insatiably horny.  Her romp with Jon-E had merely lit her fuse.  She craved more. More sex. More orgasms. More control.

“What’s the big secret he came with so urgently to Washington?” Christie probed knowing full well that if her husband did know the answer he would never share – without sex.

“Prime Minister Xi is eager to speak with the President on many pending matters.” David began parsing his lies.  “He is also a huge Rolling Stones fan and wants to attend the Kennedy Center honors on Saturday. Xi has such nerve asking at the last minute like this…” he continued in an obvious attempt to trivialize the request in front of his staff. 

Christie knew that David knew that he didn’t have the power to grant that request at this late date.  Too many conflicts would be introduced to the schedule that had been scripted for months.  Adding a leading representative of a foreign state and his necessary entourage to the guest list could only be accomplished by the President’s office. “Soon,” she thought to herself.

“Of course, you said ‘Yes’, didn’t you?” Christie daggered with a vicious tone of sarcasm intended to draw first blood   

The Vice President’s reaction was immediate and utterly predictable to Christie. After flushing blood red in the face and withholding his every breath to restrain himself from responding to her in the presence of others, he grabbed her left elbow forcefully and began to drag her down the hall to an empty side parlor room.  Christie smiled with ecstasy from both the pain of his grip and the intensity of the reaction she had just aroused in her husband.  

The scolding was a wanted command of his time and attention. She barely heard a word he said.  She had heard his disciplinary rant many times before and it never deviated from script.  Christie let him get half-way through the well rehearsed speech about social etiquettes, responsibilities, and expectations placed upon the Office of the Vice President which extended to his family and ….. before putting her finger to his lips in a delicate and effective hush. 

David knew where things were headed, and he knew not to screw it up.  He silenced himself immediately and grabbed out for his wife’s body.  Christie let his arms capture and pull her into his wanton grasp.  After a deep passionate and lustful kiss, Christie pushed herself away from David.  She saw the rejection in his eyes and knew immediately that she had full control over him.  She let his gaze sullen for several torturous seconds before rewarding him.  Grabbing the tie hanging around his neck, Christie ‘walked’ the Vice President to their bedroom as if he were merely a dog.   

After thoroughly using him for her every commanded pleasure, she had left her exhausted husband to a deep sleep. 

Aside from the post-coidal smoke, Christie wanted to peek inside her secret package in the reading room adjoining the patio.  She knew her nudity would push away the eyes of her loyal staff and security long enough to get a discreet moment to review the contents of her dark secret trove.  “Soon.” she thought to herself, again.