“It was a whisper jet,” the reporter said.
“A what?” Gannon said.
“A whisper jet. Tell me, were there any numbers or letters on the tail of the plane?”
“I don’t remember.”
“How about on the jet engines? Sometimes Gulfstream puts the ID tag number on the engines.”
Gannon thought about the giant white fishing bob he’d seen.
“No, there was nothing on them.”
“That’s why they call it a whisper jet. National secrecy and security. It flies anywhere, and no one knows who or, in this case, what’s on it. The plane that went down was probably the FBI director’s personal jet.”
“No! The FBI director gets his own private rock-star jet? A Gulfstream?”
“Oh, but of course. Not just any kind either. An air force model with aftermarket add-ons like radar jamming. The attorney general has one as well. The least we could do is have our sworn protectors live as large as possible. It’s only taxpayer money after all, right?”
“They can do that? Fly around without markings, jamming radar? Aren’t there rules?”
“Sure there are. For everybody but the people who make them. Or in this case, claim to be enforcing them. You read the news today? You hear about Messerly?”
“Messerly?”
“The new NSA defector leaker guy stuck at the embassy in Europe.”
“Oh, yeah. Messerly. I remember him. From last year, right? The new Assange. What about him?”
“They just blocked all his social media accounts this morning. Just flat-out blocked them. Said he was too hateful. The single greatest whistle-blower of all time who’s trying to expose the illegal surveillance of the entire global population is too hateful? They apparently own the social media companies as well as the mainstream media now. They can do anything they want.”
“I don’t understand,” Gannon said.
“Could you excuse me for one second? I need to make a phone call.”
“That depends. Who are you calling?”
“It’s okay. A source. I just want to confirm something. Just give me a second, okay?”
Wheldon left the room. Gannon could hear him talking in a low voice. He let out a breath and stared at the grimy bargain hotel room. At the little oven, at the half-open bathroom door. He wondered if coming here was actually a good idea.
“You’re right, Pete,” Wheldon said as he returned and sat down. “Dunning’s plane isn’t at its usual hangar at Joint Base Bolling in DC. It never returned from Italy. Not only that, there are rumors that it never actually landed in Aviano Air Base in Italy like it was scheduled to.”
“What do you make of that?” Gannon said.
Wheldon shook his head.
“I’m trying to grasp all this,” he said. “Dunning’s supposed to go to Italy but doesn’t arrive. Then there’s the diamonds. Uncut diamonds. Sounds like Africa. Has to be. Blood diamonds probably.”
“You’ve lost me,” Gannon said.
“This is what I think,” Wheldon said. “I think Dunning was running what they call a rat line. Basically, it’s smuggling using diplomatic cover. They used them in World War II to get the Nazis out of Germany into South America. They’ve been using them since probably forever to smuggle drugs or stolen valuables. Whatever you want to wherever you want. Hide it in the diplomatic bag. It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book.”
“But in America? I don’t buy it. The FBI director? You’re saying he’s secretly a smuggler?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I bet the stones from the plane are blood diamonds out of Sierra Leone or the Ivory Coast. Instead of Italy, Dunning went there. I wouldn’t be surprised if Dunning was facilitating an arms deal.”
“An arms deal?”
Wheldon nodded.
“In the interim between when he was deputy director and director, he was counsel for one of the nation’s biggest defense companies. Since it’s illegal to sell guns to these rebel groups, they love to use untraceable diamonds.”
“Like a secret cash-for-clunkers deal?” Gannon said.
“Exactly. Only in this case, it’s diamonds for land mines or maybe attack helicopters. But on the way back, something went wrong with the plane and now their ass is hanging in the breeze.”
“That’s crazy,” Gannon said. “That only happens in the movies.”
Wheldon shook his head.
“What do you think makes this world go round, Pete? Truth, justice and the American way?”
“Yes,” Gannon said.
“Lucky you,” Wheldon said, letting out a breath. “It’s power, Pete. Power.”