Chapter 106
Newark Airport, New Jersey
Day 16
Tuesday, July 22, 8:52 a.m.
Nash advanced out of Newark Airport. The trip from London after Johannesburg had been a quick decision. He approached the arrival terminal pickup spot and a black Mercedes E-Class Sedan pulled up in front of him. Its dark windows picked up his reflection.
Nash nodded at the driver, moved to the passenger door, pulled it open and dipped into the seats.
The meeting had been called by Senior Director Rodney Cook, Head of the Psychic Spy Program at the National Security Agency. Nash ignored them for several months but realized he could no longer stay silent about Project Horizon. He’d been working on it for three years—from the minute Calla came into his life.
After meeting Calla and knowing what she could do he’d wanted to quit many times but couldn’t. The project as it stood could trap her. He remembered Calla’s file intriguing him. From her expertise in history, and her mind as a language and symbol anthropologist, but it was the glint in her eyes and the way they looked at him off her mugshot that had made him stop. There was an unspoken message, and that had been the reason he’d taken the case.
Plus, it hadn’t been the NSA that had reached out, but a plea from a personal acquaintance from the CIA to take her case, to protect her, someone he hadn’t met at that point. As far as he knew the NSA knew nothing about her.
He glanced at parting traffic as the man who’d not identified himself started the engine.
“Agent, Shields. It’s been a while.”
Nash’s focus was on him. Cook had said he’d send the usual guy, a curious driver, not an agent and therefore someone who knew nothing of their business.
“Not long enough.”
“I’m sure Cook will be glad to see you. He’s been on the edge for a while.”
Nash knew exactly how long it had been since he’d sent the last communication to the members of Project Horizon. He glanced down at the communication he’d sent only hours after he’d found out that Calla was pregnant.
CLASSIFIED
TO: Rodney Cook, Head of Psychic Spy Program, National Security Agency
FROM: Nash Shields
SUBJECT: Investigation of Superior
Intelligence Behavior on US Soil
CC: White House, 10 Downing Street
Sir,
On June 21, three years ago, I was asked to investigate three of our own agents into what appeared to be superior behavior and extended capabilities when it came to weapon handling, military defense, and technology use.
As per your request to investigate two NSA officials connected to the two events on US soil, I can now confirm that what I’m about to reveal should stay classified for the rest of history. Though there is much we can learn, I doubt our world is ready for the intelligence contained in this report, for you have to ask yourself what you really believe. Whereas I deal with facts, I will say that my beliefs have been challenged in the last several months. I’m now certain about the facts. Though vague, I have been a witness to activities deeply connected to our history and our future. I’m now at liberty to conduct my final review.
My intelligence analysis took me to London, where I came in contact with people who, for the purposes of this report, I’ll call ‘operatives’. In fact, that’s what they call themselves. Operatives are a strange breed of the natural, the unnatural and science. I understand that Horizon’s key interest in the operatives stemmed from our governments’ interest to investigate claims of psychic phenomena with potential military and domestic purposes, particularly “remote viewing” where individuals claim the ability to psychically envision events, sites, or information from a great distance.
Operatives have the minds and capabilities of the supernatural, the anatomy and reasoning of everyday people and the superior knowledge and capability to bridge the two. They are, in every way, humans who’ve tapped into a great source that’s beyond mine and anyone’s comprehension. As we stand, the operatives have acquired their original capabilities and the question is: are they friend or foe?
We would be foolish to pick a battle with them, they watch over the world in many ways and the ones I have had the privilege of working with are responsible for history, world technologies and science, particularly ensuring they stay balanced and do not destroy humanity. These operatives could not only help the NSA as their technologies are far superior to anything we’ve seen at the NSA or ever will.
As you can see, we face a great dilemma. We can let them ‘get on with it’, or tickle their feathers and begin a battle we can never win. But with anything, there is vulnerability. A weakness that can impair them. I think I’ve found it, but you’d probably have to kill me for it.
Sir, it’s time to ask yourself what you believe, for by my count, we’re in the presence of strange messengers that were left to fend for themselves and the only way they knew how was to develop science and technology at a rate we never could.
Nash Shields
Senior Intelligence Analyst, NSA
Military & Security Adviser, ISTF
He couldn’t deliver on what the project expected from him and stay true to Calla. She mattered more to him than anything he’d known. In less than a couple of hours, he would have to explain the report he’d written to the key players of Project Horizon: the president Aaron Seeburg, Rodney Cook and possibly the British prime minister. The last name on that list worried him. Eric Byrne had raised an eyebrow with him. But he also wanted to pick Masher’s brain on something. Lieutenant Colonel Masher was a senior officer Nash had fought alongside in Syria and later came to serve at the US London Embassy.
His true friend and more-like-a-father-to-him-than-George-Shields, lieutenant Colonel Masher, was the only person he could trust beyond Calla and Jack.
The ride continued through New Jersey’s wide streets in punctuated silence as Nash churned over the strategy he would use with the senior officials. Nash needed those damn Ellipse files. The Ellipse files were the most classified of files that the NSA kept on any individual. If you were worth knowing about you had one in some NSA data center. Additionally, everyone who worked for the NSA had an Ellipse file and he needed to find Alex Sisley’s, steal his own and then find out what it included. That would determine how much he could share on Project Horizon.
Only three people had access to Ellipse files and nobody knew who they were. Not even the president, the Pentagon or the CIA knew they existed but they’d been shared with the KJ-20 Ops.
He’d been made aware of them and brought on the project the minute he’d joined the special ops training.
The NSA kept the Ellipse files off their books not to incriminate them and had outsourced the task of their safe keeping to three: Alex Sisley, Ralph Reiner and Nash. The KJ-20 Ops.
He’d accepted Project Horizon. Perhaps it had been boredom. But now the project was like an assassin that wouldn’t go away. Who was part of this group now? It had been months. Were there other K-J20s around? Perhaps. If anything, they were probably the only body on Earth besides the operatives who could even have known what a child born to him and Calla was worth scientifically.
But before he met with Cook and the project team, he had to know what Masher could tell him.
Masher was on the fifteenth floor of the old building in a Washington Street in Historic Downtown, the Waterfront of Jersey City, an area historically comprised of low rise buildings now getting a face lift.
The car pulled into the secluded driveway and came to a halt.
The driver set his arm on the arm rest and turned to Nash. “Your meeting is in room 12–01, on the twelfth floor. Reception with take care of you.”
Nash knew the drill. He stepped out of the car and moved toward the entrance of the building clutching his minimal overnight bag. Once inside he went through the procedure and was soon on his way to the fifthteenth floor.
He was early and had fifteen minutes but hadn’t called ahead to let him know he was coming.
He found Masher’s office. Masher was on the phone when he knocked and raised a hand indicating he wouldn’t be long. When he’d finished his conversation he turned to Nash who was closing the door behind him.
“Nash, you okay? What’re you doing here?”
Nash shook Masher’s hand and saluted before taking a seat. “No need son, you left my command months ago.”
“Giving respect where it’s due.”
“Thanks for helping me with the London situation and the flash drive.”
“You were injured and when that pretty girl came to me and said she needed my help for you. I dropped everything.”
“I’m grateful, sir.”
“Something in her eyes communicated more than just love, Nash. It communicated commitment to you. You’re a lucky man.”
Steadying himself with effort, Nash took a deep breath. “Been called in. I’ve tried to avoid this for a very long time.”
Masher held up a hand briefly and reached under his desk to turn off the listening device in his office. He then switched off his cell phone. Privacy in the NSA was only a privilege for those in higher rankings. “What’re you gonna do?”
“Remember the flash drive I left with you several months ago. The one they came searching for.”
Masher nodded and flinched at the tone of his voice.
“I’ve come for it.”
“Well, I knew this day will come. You sure about it?”
“Yes. Where is it?”
“Safe.”
“They may know about it, or that I’m hiding something. I may have to answer for it, today,” Nash said.
“What will you do now? I don’t know what’s on that file but I will ask you the same question I asked you when you gave it to me. You in trouble, son?”
Nash’s eyebrows pulled in. “Not sure yet.”
“You know they’ll drill you. Discipline you if they have to.”
Masher had been the first to recommend him to the K-J20 Ops elite group. Nash’s voice was suddenly low. “I can’t give them anything. The NSA challenges any organization that has technologies superior to their own.”
“Then this’ll be no different. They’ll want to know.” Masher’s blue eyes weighed him down with a squint. “Son, if you really want the flash drive back, you need to take a trip. If you feel you really need to, you should to go to the vaults and I don’t mean the obvious ones.”
“You mean Utah?”
“Yes, the Data Center.”
Distorted images scattered through Nash’s head. Why would he send it there? The Utah Data Center was also known as the Intelligence Community Comprehensive National Cybersecurity Initiative Data Center, a data storage facility for the US Intelligence Community with stored data estimated to be in the order of exabytes or larger.
“Why there?”
“Sometimes the safest place to hide what your enemies seek, is right under their noses.”
Cheltenham, Gloucester shire
South-West England
Day 17
Wednesday, July 23, 11:33 a.m..
Calla sped the Maserati on the A40 freeway. Half an hour later she parked in the GCHQ parking lot. Rowe needed to give her answers. Answers her parents couldn’t give. Answers that could help them find the sellers of her genes.
Whatever Rowe had found he’d not shared and it was time she knew what he had on her. She hated seeing what the whole ordeal was doing to Nash. To them both, it was personal and to their governments, it was detrimental.
A hacker on the loose, possibly this Alex Sisley with technology codes and data that terrorized them all. But what if someone here already knew what was on the list or how it was created. What if it was Rowe?
Rowe’s absence in Sun City was something she couldn’t ignore. Was he keeping something from her? Something she couldn’t read?
Her thoughts drifted to Nash and what he’d say. He’d left for the US after a late-night call and would be back in twenty-four hours. Her emotional connection to Nash didn’t allow her to get a mind reading, but she didn’t want to anyway. She didn’t need to know everything. Her access to thoughts came only when she was in danger and she couldn’t abuse her ability as Mason Laskfell had. If anything, it would probably give her emotional damage.
She hesitated and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel as she glared out at people entering the Doughnut. Calla killed the engine and stepped out of the car. For a second she wondered if she should have gotten operative backup and brought Jack.
She headed into the building. Her ISTF credentials allowed her access past the reception. But she had to wait for her contact before she could proceed further.
Calla contemplated as her eye caught sight of the main interior of Britain’s spy network. Through the glass behind the reception, rows of stalls housed analysts with headphones. Others scrutinized data encrypted communications, while some glared at screens that possibly kept deployed forces safe across the world or intercepted activity around organized crime.
GCHQ had been known to intercept cyber espionage activity that threatened the UK and its borders. This included monitoring several things like live networks and satellites. Calla observed the technology used. It was a long way from the secret organization established in 1952.
She drew in a quick breath and went over what she needed to find in the office she’d asked to see.
“Miss Calla Cress,” a security guard said and checked her card. “How long should I sign you in for?”
“Only till I get what I came for. The top man himself, Michael Compton.”
As she waited her eyes observed the royal emblem in a tablet of stone concrete.
“The Senior Director of Cyber Intelligence isn’t in at the moment,” the guard said.
“But I’m sure his first deputy is.”
“Ah. Rowe Norkus is in the building for sure. I saw him this morning. Okay, his office is on the third floor. You’ll need to clear security on the scanners and then you’re good to go.”
“Thank you.”
Calla made it through security and took the elevator up three floors. A long corridor led to what looked like the executive wing.
A secretary sat outside the office she’d been directed to. “Miss Cress. We weren’t expecting you till tomorrow,” said the friendly woman.
Calla tugged at her collar and read the name on the desk. “Ms. Kacie Douglas, is Rowe in? I know Director Compton’s not in but chanced it in case his deputy is.”
Before she could answer the door drew open and Calla’s eyes fell on a face she knew all too well. Rowe extended his hand and smirked. “Calla, how I wish I could forget you, but how can I forget the woman who refused to marry me. I knew you would come sooner or later.”
Rowe didn’t know when to stop being a moron and the comment drew a raised eyebrow from the woman seated at her desk.
“Is the head of ISTF here to see me, or Director Compton?” Rowe said.
“That all depends.”
“On what?”
“On what I need to know,” Calla said.
“You may have failed to hear me in Monaco. I’m the director’s eyes and ears. Please come in. Kacie, please hold all appointments for the director and myself. I’ll be in there discussing matters with the prime minister’s new best friend. The head of ISTF.”
Calla followed Rowe into the room. “I need access to GCHQ’s budget information.”
Rowe raised an eyebrow. “Now why would I give you that?”
“Because as you clearly noted the prime minister has granted me permission to access all documents I deem necessary. Including those of GCHQ.”
“You ask for something only few eyes can see.
“Let me guess, secret eyes only? And seeing where I am, digital eyes only.”
“By the way, I want that eye back that you and your boys took. That tech belongs here.”
“Well, I’m now above secret eyes and believe me you couldn’t hide anything in here if you wanted too,” she said scanning the room, accessing her laser sharp vision. “I also need a list of technologies, classified or otherwise, worth anything from over £250 million.”
“The Director can’t give you this information.”
“Let me guess. You can?”
He edged closer. “I’m happy to discuss any details over a quiet night in London city.”
“Save your dinner money for someone who gives a damn.”
“Dinner or the file?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Really, Rowe. Is that the best you can do?”
“I don’t care much for ISTF or GCHQ. They like to think they’re serious organizations. I, on the other hand, have information on all things they don’t. Including all things relating to the operatives.”
Calla stopped in her tracks. How much did he know? She didn’t have time to find out. Calla seized him and wrenched his arm twisting it.
He yelped, his face reddening.
“Don’t make me force you. You won’t like it,” she said.
“You always knew how to turn me on.”
He reached for a panic button triggered by his cell phone. In all of ten seconds, a security guard charged into the office. With a finger tracing the trigger, he took careful aim at her. She backed off and released Rowe’s limp body. This wasn’t the place or time.
Rowe shot up and straightened his suit. “My offer runs out in ten hours. I may just have what you’ve been looking for and something tells me the operatives interest you and the prime minister.”
The robust guard held her back and though she could take him, this wasn’t the place. Calla studied Rowe as he advanced to his desk. This wasn’t the place to expose the operatives. Rowe typed something on his sleek laptop. Calla’s eyes followed his message using her sharp focus. From her distance of several feet she read the fine print on his screen as the guard jerked her out of the room.
Cress was here.
She’ll do what I say if she wants to protect that father of hers. MI6 has handed over his entire spy file.
His email partner responded.
If that doesn’t work.
We can always get her with what we know about her.
Three minutes later, Nash called the elevator. The car landed on the twelfth level, a quiet floor and almost deserted. Room 12–01 stood only a few doors down on the right.
He set his hand on the handle and strode into the room. Several senior agents and agency heads conversed. The Project Horizon team were all at the table. Nash’s stomach coiled in knots when he didn’t see Eric Byrne. He glanced round at the secret service team that had accompanied President Seeburg and Rodney Cook. The president turned in his chair without comment. In this room alone stood not only the powers that controlled the United States but also the future of cyber technology and scientific technological research in the country.
“Shields,” President Seeburg began. “The only man who turned down a position in my secret service. I admire you for that.”
“Take a seat, Shields,” Cook said, as he dismissed the secret service men.
Nash took a seat across from Cook and the president. “Where is Prime Minister Byrne?”
“This will stay with the US for now.”
On the table his eyes caught sight of a copy of his NSA file. A quick glance revealed it wasn’t the Ellipse file he knew had possibly been developed on him.
Cook began. “How long have you been with the NSA, Shields?”
A daft question as his file was in front of them at the desk.
“Three years.”
Cook picked up the file. “And you were with the US military with special posts to Japan and Syria before Germany and London?”
“Correct. What’s this all about?”
“Your report on Project Horizon.”
“What about it?”
“Care to explain your conclusions. Where can we find the operatives, their headquarters? We know some have worked on our teams but then they disappear. Are there any currently working for us? Who do they work for?”
“I couldn’t tell you, sir.” He considered hard before his next comment. “All I can say is I trust them more than most and know enough to leave them alone.”
“That goes a long way, Shields. Your instincts in your military and NSA career have always been accurate.”
“Why am I here then?”
Seeburg raised an eyebrow. “What’s your next move?”
“There’s no next step,” Nash said.
“So, we let them get on with it?” Seeburg asked. “I’m afraid that isn’t and option.”
Nash wasn’t sure what to do with that answer. What were they conspiring?
The president searched his face. “There must be more to them. What more can we learn from the two who worked in the NSA?”
How much could he say without giving much away? The operatives who’d only come into the NSA like any other employee were terrorized when three analysts found they could reprogram a trace faster than any of them. Operatives were as good as ghosts. They could appear and disappear when they wanted.
The report he’d sent his team had detailed as much as he could voice without exposing Calla.
Nash wavered his decision. “If you can find them, which I seriously doubt. They’ve probably moved on. We only know what they want us to know. Investigating them further is a waste of government funds. They aren’t our enemies.”
The president rose, dipped his hands in his pockets and paced to the window. “Shields. I’m gonna give you your toughest assignment yet. Bring me their leader, their commander or whoever runs the damn thing and I’ll give you whatever resources are in my power to help you.”