True Lies - Redux Ch. 09

"Unfortunately, none of these guys in the house are still alive. But we've got their phones and ID's and whatever else they've left lying around and we'll go over everything in the next day or so. Maybe we'll be able to figure out just who they are and what they hoped to accomplish."

"So what now? Where are we going? You delivering me to Grayson?"

"First, how are you feeling, physically? Do you need any pain relief or anything at all?"

I started to blush, thinking how terrible I must now look to this nice man...

"I probably look like shit but I actually don't feel all that bad. I'll, uh, need to see a doctor pretty soon to get totally checked out...possible infections..."

I just didn't want to admit to this man the ordeal I had just gone through...well, it wasn't like he was a cop or anything and I really didn't know him...

"OK. Please let me know if there is anything at all you want right away. We can always stop and pick anything up from drinks to food to medicine. We're headed to one of our own kind of "safe house" we sometimes have need of and it's pretty well stocked with all the basics. And I will take you to Grayson, but only if you want me too. I ... sense some hesitation in your voice?"

"I'm not at all sure Grayson is that great a friend of mine and especially my husband. Last time I saw Grayson I kneed him in the balls hard as I could and Jim almost tore his arm off. Long story...that mostly has to do with Grayson helping Iran get Nukes. The A-bomb. And my husband trying to mess that up."

"Fuck. Those crazy Mullahs getting their hands on Nuclear WMD's? I don't think I like the idea. Can you get in touch with your husband?"

"Got a phone? I know his work cellphone by heart."

I called Jim but it went direct to voicemail.

"Jim, it's me! I've gotten free! Call me at this number...," Allie said it right out for me "312-555-4876 just as soon as you can. I love you and I can't wait to see you again!"

"Where are we going right now?"

"Back to the city. Chicago. That's where that house is. You probably ought to stay with me - us - for a while. Just lay low until we hear from your husband. Do you want me to tell Grayson or not?"

That was the question, eh?

"Call him and let me talk to him. Please?"

"Sure, hold on." And he hit a speed dial. "Hey. It's me. Got someone here who wants to talk with you."

"Grayson?"

"Rachel! Allie got you out OK? Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not alright but I'll live. What the hell do you have to do with all this? You better not lie to me."

"I understand you probably don't like me very well right now, but I honestly had nothing to do with this damn kidnapping! I'm just very, very glad Allie and his people got you back OK. Listen, we really need to talk, and I mean you, Jim, and even that damn hellcat Jennifer. I...think I can explain a lot and maybe we can all get out of this mess. And listen I am sorry about your dad and especially your mom. I didn't know about it before it happened and really not even after it happened, except what I now guess happened - and why."

"Well, I'm not about to see you without Jim and Jenn and maybe even Allie, now. So we need to work the logistics out. Can you contact Jim?"

"I'm pretty sure Jim is "dark" right now. Off the grid, keeping a low profile. I am too. It's all gotten really, really weird and I'm afraid stuff has moved beyond "just politics" and even "just money". Hell, it was always and only "just money" for me. Allie has all my contact info. I'll do what I can to contact Jim but you should have better luck than me. Let Allie know as soon as you know. You sticking with Allie for a bit? That would probably be best. He knows what he's doing."

"Grayson, you have to know that if you're playing me and Jim anyway at all, he will kill you and it won't be pleasant..."

"I certainly do believe that, Rachel. I confess he scared the shit out of me last time we were all together. I'm being as straight as I can be with you now. And also, Rachel, I do apologize for how I treated you. You're going to think this is just an excuse, but I really did think you enjoyed our little sex games just as much as I did. I know I'm a jerk and asshole, and definitely a "dom", but darn it, LOT'S of women seem to like me as all that just fine. And I honestly thought you did too."

I was almost shocked speechless. Then I seriously wondered if this fucker was just hopelessly crazy? And then I almost started laughing hysterically.

"Apology accepted, asshole," I finally got out.

"Don't EVER make that same mistake again with me - or any other woman without some fucking due diligence, first." I finally stopped chuckling.

"And I know I'm not blameless myself. I made myself available and then I did indeed put up with your fucking demeaning bullshit - but just FYI - I can't even remember the last orgasm I had anywhere around you. Not that you noticed or cared. You are fucking sick but I just pray you aren't fucking crazy. Because if you are, you won't be around much longer. I'm really pissed and if Jim isn't he's going to be as soon as I tell him...some stuff. We'll be in touch."

I hung up and almost threw the phone at Allie but finally just handed it to him.

And then I realized what I had just admitted to him about my slutty former self and got terribly embarrassed. Shit. What must he think of me? why did I care? Talking about my orgasms with another man after just telling my husband I loved him in that voicemail. Shit, it all wasn't really his business...

Allie was a real gentleman and basically just ignored it.

"Hmmm, remind me not to ever piss you off little lady, or your husband Jim, I guess. Was Grayson really that scared?"

"If he has even half a brain he should have been. My husband's normally just one of the gentlest and nicest guys you'd ever want to meet, but...let's just say there is another side of him more like The Hulk than nice mild mannered Bruce Banner. Really. You'd have to see it to believe it. And just a word of advice? Don't go looking for it."

"Okayyy, Mrs. Johnson."

I finally had just a normal laugh.

"I didn't mean to frighten you all to pieces, Allie. It's Rachel and you'd better use it." And I punched his arm - like a nincompoop. Maybe I was going crazy...

And just like that I got real sad again and the tears came and we all slipped back into that quiet silent mourning mode. And before I knew it I was sound asleep.

**************

Jim -

Around noon the the next day I was in a blue collar kind of bar that served a pretty good lunch and was busy enough for me to make some calls. I used my special Bluejack phone to check for messages and had a voicemail.

Rachel was free! Apparently. Jesus, I thought my heart might burst.

But what should I do now? My excitement and happiness deflated as quickly as it had inflated.

There was no going back and no backing down now. This had escalated to a death match and unconditional surrender or scorched Earth victory for one of us or the other, had to be the only outcome. If I only knew who the "other" or "others" actually were. I quickly left my half-eaten lunch and the bar behind and started walking down the busy city street. I pulled one of the unused burner phones out and called that number Rachel left first.

"Yes." A man answered.

"I'm calling for a woman who left me this number. No names, please. I'm her husband."

"Hold on."

About an endless minute later a sleepy or maybe just tired voice said, "Hello?"

"Hi, honey it's me, your husband. Don't say any names OK?"

She let out a little squeal. Damn I loved that sound.

"Hello, honey, yourself. Are you OK? I was so scared and worried!"

I could hear her sniffling and my heart broke again as I felt like I had let her down in just so many ways.

"I'm just fine now that you are safe. Please tell me your OK and safe right now?" I was trying not to sob out loud but I could feel how shaky my own voice was.

"I think so. I was rescued by some nice strange men who apparently are working for...uh, my quote "good buddy" unquote on the plane to Paris. Understand?"

"Yes, I think so. Really?"

"Yes, and you probably need to talk with him as soon as possible. Wait a minute."

And I heard a brief conversation at Rachel's end.

"Try him at this number..." and Rachel gave me a number.

"Honey, I AM OK but it's a very tricky and dangerous situation right now for both of us. I want to come to you so badly but it's just not possible right now. You stay hidden and stay safe. First of all, is this phone you're now on the one used to leave that voicemail for me?"

"Yes."

"Then it HAS to be turned off and destroyed as soon as we complete this call. Is there another phone there you can use right this minute?"

Again a brief conversation there.

"Yes, I've got another one."

"OK, call me right back at this number...no wait, fuck. It's still just too dangerous to try right now. Let me think a bit..."

I was going to give her the number for one of my other burner phones. I was sure NSA and FBI had all kinds of tracers on my original "official" phone and it's voicemail. So they were tracking and recording all phones who called me and especially left messages, even if they couldn't break the encryption and hear the actual conversations or messages. Now my new CIA enemies might also be part of that whole effort.

NSA capabilities were awesome - but they weren't actually godlike, listening and checking everyone in real time. There were millions of cellphone calls going on every minute in the USA alone. But, IF they were specifically "tapping" all phones associated with my phone, they might even be listening in real time with human beings, not just recording and then comp analyzing. And any phone numbers or email addresses I discussed or traded with Rachel would immediately be subject to further real time tapping. Fuck. We'd have to use ponderous obscure human contacts or cutouts...

"OK. You just stay out of public sight for now. Have your friends buy a bunch of burner phones. You can leave me messages or emails at my agency phone number you know, at least until NSA pulls the plug on it, from those burner phones. Just one message at a time from some public place then destroy the phone immediately. Use as much obfuscation as you can in each message. Never call or message from your own physical hiding location. Some very bad people will be doing everything they can to find you again honey, just to get to me in many ways. I am just so sorry for dragging you into all this. I never should have even tried to use you as I did before.

"I will work on ways to communicate with you or get to you safely. Just knowing you're out of the hands of those asswipes. Well, I'm as happy as I've been in a long, long time. I love you and I always will. But love does sometimes mean saying I'm sorry. And I am. I just don't see how you could possibly still even like me right now. And I'm sorry about that as well..."

"Stop that crap! You don't get to decide for ME who I love or why! I won't lie to you anymore. Ever. I do love you and I AM still in love with you and fuck you, you stupid, stupid man! Now stop worrying about me and do what you have to do! I'll be waiting. Maybe not patiently and maybe not JUST waiting, but I'll be careful. More careful than you, my idiot husband!"

"Message received. Bye, Hon. I will see you soon, God willing. Please destroy that phone you're using and really consider moving someplace else from your current physical location. Basically you have to consider the entire US government as your personal enemy right now. I hope your new friends can handle that."

"Bye sweetie."

And I hung up. Well, at least she was free and safe now. I immediately called Grayson's number from my own Bluejack untraceable phone.

"Hi, asshole."

"Ah, I was expecting your call. Or at least hoping for it."

"You still working for the dickwads in this admin?"

"I have to do what I have to do. Maybe my heart's not quite in it anymore. We need to meet personally and maybe resolve all this current discord and conflict to everyone's mutual benefit."

"Where are you?"

"I'm staying at the Watergate for the next week, at least. Stop by anytime."

Yeah, like THAT was going to happen.

"I will. You should expect us to have a serious discussion."

"I do. You've already scared me quite enough and basically ruined me. It's time to let bygones be gone and move forward. It's time to make the world safe for families again. OK? I am serious about it."

"Soon," was all I replied and hung up. I took "families" to mean Rachel and her family and even our soon to be officially over marriage family. It was just possible I could use Grayson to communicate with Rachel. Maybe.

Obviously I couldn't waltz into the Watergate Hotel and ask for Grayson. But I was thinking my friend who was so good with disguises just might be able to, especially since no one even knew he was in the USA right now.

My next call was to Elaine. Burner phone to burner phone.

"We need a war council this afternoon. Your place with everyone that can make it. Six o'clock maybe?"

"OK. Bye."

Then I immediately took the battery out of that phone. Wiped it down and smashed it with my heel and threw the mess away in a metal trash can - the kind with a metal swinging lid. If I ever got to return to any kind of normal life I was going to invest heavily in those cheap prepaid cell phone manufacturers.

My small team was eating through them like jelly beans.

**************

Carlos Herrara -

I was getting very nervous and unhappy. This whole illegal operation clamping the lid on the "Grayson Project" interdepartmental rogue cabal was not going well, at all. And I was feeling ever more pressure from the man directing me to do this. Not the CIA Director, my immediate boss, but HIS boss, Jason Broadwell, The Director of National Intelligence. There were actually 16 separate Intelligence operations in the USA "Intelligence Community." The ODNI - Office of Director of National Intelligence supposedly, sort of, had some direction if not control of all 16.

But the NSA, NRO (National Reconnaissance Office), and the National Geospatial Intelligence Agency, all still "belonged" to the Department of Defense. As did the the Defense Intelligence Agency. These Jimmy and Jenny and Elaine yahoos probably didn't even know who they really supposedly worked for.

And then the Secretary of the Department of Homeland Security was not exactly over the DNI - but certainly had it's own level of "cooperation" with same in all matters concerning homeland security and had an even higher Executive Branch level than the DNI. Not to mention the REAL total of over 3300 government AND private agencies now involved in official USA homeland security, counterterrorism, and intelligence gathering and analysis with a mere 845,000 individuals with a "Top Secret" clearance as of 2010. I'm not sure ANYONE actually knew how many there were now. Including one Hillary Clinton. What a joke. All of this confusion and finger-pointing and very unclear accountability helped all us go-getter types get what WE wanted done, done. Just like Hillary!

So, what all these rogue agents did MIGHT be considered illegal - but maybe not. They certainly had wiggle room regarding authority and responsibility at the higher management levels to run their own ops on overseas threats - to a point. Especially those crew-cut military Defense Department yahoos. Just who might cover for them in the Defense Department? How high up and with what clout? Best all this was done "off the books."

Because what I was doing definitely was illegal. So I certainly tried to maintain plausible deniability for myself personally. My smartest move was using that prep school and frat boy idiot, Bradley Gilbert, as my patsy and fall guy, if needed.

He was working as I directed but only via voice orders - NOTHING was in writing and I was even using my own "agency special" phone for those orders that NSA electronic surveillance was pre-programmed to ignore. There would be no discoverable evidence, digital or otherwise.

If it got to that point, it was merely his word against mine.

In the meantime one of my best NOC agents, Nathaniel Kayce, was overwatching everything Brad was doing - or trying to do - while staying as invisible as possible.

He was a tad hobbled right now because he really fucked up that capturing Jim Johnson job after DHS already had him secured. He was the "cabbie" that ended up catching a .22 short slug in his knee. Maybe I over thought all that a tad, but I HAD been ordered to completely handle Jim outside the agency, ANY US Intel agency. It sure seemed like a slam dunk easy thing - after delivering the devastating news of Rachel's kidnapping and her mom's killing. Fuck, THAT killing of an innocent American citizen hadn't been authorized either. Maybe Nat was slipping a tad?

Still, he was able to play Jim enough then to make his escape. If Jim had really been top grade NOC agent material he'd have just killed Nat out of hand. Instead Nat took him by a warehouse he knew was empty but HAD been used by some Russian mobsters we'd had occasion to use in the past here in D.C. Nat knew about the Russian Dagestanis we were using in Chicago of course, since he was the interface with them. It was his suggestion to "unleash" them on the woman, Jim's wife, to incentivise Jim a little more. Now I wonder if that wasn't just a bit of petty personal revenge? And also yet another fucked up decision?

Brad was REALLY upset after his meeting yesterday where he put the screws to Jim to bring in by HIMSELF those rogue agents he had already told us about. That's when he showed Jim the video. He said Jim was very upset. Well, DUH! But Brad really thought I should go easy on Rachel, at least for a while. Brad also thought that I should meet personally with Jim when Jim brought in his fellow rogue agents. Could I please do that?

Brad almost sounded a tad desperate. Poor boy really wasn't cut out for this kind of work that generated any kind of pressure or stress. He'd rise real well as just an administrative bureaucrat though, if all this worked out as planned. His family would be pleased at his constant advancement. Or IF he had to take a fall, his family was wealthy enough to cushion that fall anyway.

Yeah, I would like to meet these little pissants personally. We'd all have some nice little interrogation chats before they were all renditioned right out of this country to some little black hole prison in a 3rd world hellhole, never to be heard from again. They had just fucked up and pissed off the wrong people. Too damn bad. Life's a bitch and then you die.

Anyway, I did instruct Nat to call his fucking dogs off and make sure Jim's wife was all recovered and cleaned up. One never knew - that whole honey and vinegar thing. We could always go back to the punishment stick easy enough.

But now, Nat was a LOT more careful when it came to this "nobody" Jim guy.

"What the hell happened?" I asked him after that cockup.

"Shit. Guess I underestimated him. He was just acting, and pretty damn good, at that. He's such a little guy I didn't even take it seriously when he jumped in the front seat of the cab. And when he hit me with his fist, I swear it felt like a sledgehammer. That little fucker is strong and knows how to fight in all kinds of ways."

Was it possible I was underestimating Jim and his little band? Possible. I would be extremely careful. If I did meet them away from Langley, which it would have to be - I'd have my best security team and Nat primed and ready for anything.

If they all just ended up dead in the next couple of days that might serve just as well, as a warning to any and all other stupid untrustworthy rogue agents. And that was a hell of a lot better than a pissed off husband wanting personal revenge on Nat, or even God forbid me - just doing my job and following orders.