Satan's Spy (The Steve Church saga Book 2), André Gallo [ebook reader color screen .txt] 📗

parachute jump across the North Korean border to save the world again? Or SCUBA diving off the Great Barrier Reef? Or double black-diamond skiing in the Himalayas? Whatever you like to do to relax.”

Steve grinned at Kella’s sarcasm and took her hand. “Your sense of humor is the best thrill. You know I’m always good to go.

“First, however,” he suggested soberly, “contact headquarters and make the final arrangements for exfiltration. Hafizadeh said they could deliver us anywhere, or almost anywhere, since much of the coast is classified as strategic by the Republican Guard. Headquarters named a coastal park. Sounds like an ecological area. Probably protected. Where exactly and when?”

 

56. Andrews Air Force Base: CIA Hangar

The news that Steve was now in touch with the opposition was received by Thérèse LaFont as she was leaving the office to join Wally Deuel at Andrews Air Force Base in Maryland, just outside Washington, where the CIA’s small business jet fleet operated. Deuel was already on his way, and she decided to wait until she spoke with him personally before alerting either the Director of National Intelligence or the White House.

Their destination was Manama. They were taking advantage of a change of command of the Fifth Fleet’s Task Force 56 to review intelligence needs and requirements in the Persian Gulf and to visit the CIA personnel attached to the Fifth Fleet. Task Force 56 provided oversight for the three thousand eight hundred sailors of the Navy’s expeditionary combat warfare operations in the U.S. Naval Forces Central Command. Its intelligence needs were a major responsibility, and burden, for the CIA.

They met at the CIA hangar. Deuel was bringing his assistant Mary, and Thérèse, who had relegated Radu to the Counterintelligence staff, was bringing her new Near East Division chief, Jason Farrish, a veteran of both Iraq and Afghanistan.

The nail in Radu’s career coffin had been to share intelligence obtained from the Turks about the Kurdistan Workers Party with Syrian intelligence, breaking the hallowed rule of not sharing one allied intelligence organization’s reporting with another. The CI staff had had a position available, and the transfer had been easy. However, she intended to move him away from current operations. Radu just wasn’t with the program, too close to the Syrians for one thing.

Office of Security provided two body guards. As they all settled in the swank cabin of the new Gulfstream G-650, not yet commercially available, Thérèse shared her new information with the Director of the CIA.

“That’s good news for us,” he said, “However, it’s going to complicate my life considerably. The State Department is not going to like it. My favorite congresswoman Dorothea Langdon is going to get her knickers in a knot, a double knot. Last time I looked, it was our job to provide other countries’ secrets to policy makers. I don’t quite know how to do that if we are not permitted to have contacts with opposition groups.”

Deuel glanced out to see the white line of the runway growing smaller as the sleek plane climbed swiftly. “You don’t need a CIA if all you want to do is listen to the party line of the government in power. Trust us, we’re telling you the truth.

“That’s what happened in Iran in the seventies. We were prohibited from being in touch with the competing centers of power, the students, and the mullahs. We could only be in touch with the Shah’s government, in other words with SAVAK, the security organization. As a government, we fail to learn by our mistakes.”

“What about meeting Khatami in two weeks?” she asked.

“We need to be there. I doubt that Khatami himself will show, so you choose your team.”

She turned to Jason and said, “I want you to go if you think you can do your homework on Iran by then. Take one or two analysts with you. We may or may not give Khatami any kind of commitment.”

“This will be something we need to clear with the Department of State and the Office of the Director of National Intelligence,” he said, “as well as with the White House, and the Congressional oversight committees, of course. Staying in touch with him and his group will be a great opportunity to better understand the dynamics of the Iranian situation. Make sure you meet with Steve and Kella when they get out. You might want one or both of them at the meeting, as well. Whoever shows up from the Iranian side will not be alone. There will be a security detail as well as two or three others to confirm after the fact that what they report back to the boss is actually what happened.”

Turning back to include Deuel in her reply, Thérèse continued, “No one wants to be under a cloud. Without witnesses, the Iranian representative will be accused of having been recruited by the CIA. Which is always the goal, isn’t it? We’re not called the Great Satan for nothing.”

The plane was soon at cruising altitude, and the copilot came back and showed everyone where they could find sandwiches and cold drinks in the small fridge. He made fresh coffee and went back to the cockpit.

Deuel had found his cigar and was already fiddling with it. “What about Steve and Kella?” he asked. “When are they coming out, and how? We need Steve’s information.”

“Their last message said that Hafizadeh had returned to explain that the entire city is closed off,” Thérèse replied. “No one is coming in or out without some sort of official pass until further order. Obviously, Mousavi picked up the scent. Hafizadeh said to wait, that Mousavi would have to relent, that he couldn’t shut down a major city for more than a day or two, or three.”

“We can’t wait,” Deuel said. “We need that cyber information right away. Alternatives?”

Jason Farrish, the new Near East chief, was about fifty, with short grey hair,