It was during his attendance at the Naval Warfare College in Newport Rhode Island that Mike Shocklee was approached about joining the CIA. He was a “gung ho” Marine officer attending a thirteen-month maritime warfighting course—a prerequisite for assuming additional Marine Corps leadership responsibilities. While at the college, he met a CIA veteran, a student who never seemed to have time for a drink after class. He would frequently disappear, not to be seen again until the next day, and then he’d show up looking like he hadn’t had much sleep. The man had a sharp mind, was articulate, and could explain things about real-world politics that Shocklee never thought about. His name was Scott Sandowski. At the end of the course, the operative gave Shocklee his telephone number and told the young captain to call if he ever got tired of just being a grunt in the Marine Corps. The idea of becoming a spy was intriguing, and six months later, Shocklee called the number.
Twenty years later, Mike Shocklee had become one of the most experienced field operatives of the clandestine service at CIA. He had spent years running covert operations on the ground, mainly in Africa, but also in other areas of the world where the need for an operative with his type of experience was needed. He had worked with Jonas Savimbi, who became one of the founding members of UNITA, the National Union for the Total Independence of Angola and fought the communist-backed government, the People’s Movement for the Liberation of Angola, Labor Party.
Mike was on the ground in Monrovia, Liberia, when the US Embassy had to be evacuated due to civil war that broke out in December 1989 and on the ground in Mogadishu, Somalia, two years later in January 1991 when civil discord necessitated another embassy evacuation. This time, he was instrumental in preparing members of the embassy for the evacuation that eventually took place when a sixty-person Marine and Navy SEAL security detail flew in to begin the evacuation.
One year later, he was back in Somalia as part of the CIA’s effort to provide actionable intelligence to a unit of special military operators that had been sent to track down and apprehend a leading warlord who opposed the ongoing United Nations humanitarian relief effort.
More recently, he was the second in command of an operation to overthrow the ruthless dictator and president of Zimbabwe where he and two other men under his command were captured and tortured before being rescued. Later, he was sent back to Somalia to track down and eliminate the leader of Al-Shabaab, Africa’s most notorious terrorist organization. To say that Mike was an operative well-suited for just about any assignment would be an understatement, but he wasn’t prepared, mentally, for the assignment about to be given to him.
He sat alone in the briefing room adjacent to the DDO’s office. He had been there many times in the past when his friend and mentor, Scott Sandowski, was the deputy director of operations. He missed Scotty and his leadership. He was concerned, due to events that had transpired on his last assignment, about the new DDO and her ability to effectively manage clandestine operations on a global basis. He picked up a folder laying on the table and looked at the classification markings. He wondered, before opening it, which African dictator had become a thorn in the administration’s side. He flipped it open and began to read.
TOP SECRET
SENSITIVE COMPARTMENTED INFORMATION
OPERATION NEEDFUL QUEST
BACKGROUND INFORMATION: The Saint Petersburg Psychiatric Hospital of Specialized Type with Intense Observation (SAPHSTIN) is one of eight Russian psychiatric hospitals under federal control for the treatment and rehabilitation of mentally ill persons who have committed socially dangerous acts in a state of insanity and have been released from criminal responsibility under court decision. In the Soviet era, the hospital was called the Leningrad Special Psychiatric Hospital of Prison Type of the USSR Ministry of Internal Affairs. Today, SAPHSTIN is more of an institution than a hospital.
TARGET INFORMATION: Dimitry Mauldin is a Ministry of Defense (MINOBORONY ROSSII) scientist. He is a brilliant man with impressive credentials and previously worked at a naval research facility in Saint Petersburg before he became ill. He was admitted to SAPHSTIN in August 2009. Prior to his admission, Mauldin collapsed at work due to mental fatigue from being overworked. He was given time off to rest and left to the care of his wife, but he was seen a week later at Palace Square, in Saint Petersburg, rambling about something that most people, mainly tourists, couldn’t understand. A naval officer happened to walk by as Mauldin’s ramblings became louder and louder. He recognized the scientist and managed to quiet him and then led him away. Mauldin’s wife later reported that he had wandered away from their apartment while she was out shopping. Program officials at MINOBORONY committed Mauldin to the institute for care and observation with hopes that doctors would be successful in rehabilitating one of their best scientists, but he’s still there after a year of treatment.
TARGET BACKGROUND AND PHYSICAL CONDITION: Dr. Maudlin is a natural-born Russian. He and his wife have no children. He has doctorate degrees in chemical and metallurgical engineering and speaks English. Dr. Mauldin was the principal scientist in charge of developing stealth technology to enhance operating capabilities of Russia’s submarine fleet. He is sixty years old, ambulatory, and should not be left alone.
OPERATIONAL OPPORTUNITY: Once a week, usually on Fridays, accompanied by an attendant, Maudlin is taken for a walk in the large garden that encircles the backside of the SAPHSTIN Institute. At some point, the attendant and Mauldin will sit on a garden bench that is out of sight from the main building. The attendant will cuff one of Mauldin’s hands to the bench and then get up and leave him sitting there alone. The attendant has the key to a gate situated nearby. He keeps a car parked across the street and will use it to leave the area. He normally returns within fifteen to twenty minutes, uncuffs Mauldin, and takes him back inside the institute. The station has confirmed that the attendant is involved in illegal drug activity. He meets a contact when he leaves and passes habituates and other drugs that the station believes he’s pilfered from the institute or its patients, perhaps even Mauldin.
ASSIGNMENT: Abduct Dr. Mauldin from SAPHSTIN and bring him to the United States. CIA doctors believe there is a good chance they can rehabilitate Mauldin and learn the secret details of Russia’s stealth technology program.
LEAD OPERATIVE: Michael Shocklee.
EXIGENCY: This is a “Level IV” assignment with very high national security implications.
Another Level IV op, Mike thought while looking at the folder. It must be damn important for her to invoke that level of operational classification.
He closed the file, thinking about what he had just read and the risks a team would have to take to execute the operation. The assignment was going to take him to an area of the world where he had never worked: Russia. Why me? he thought. The door opened, and he looked up to see Windstrum as she entered the room. She stopped at the head of the table.
“For your information, Michael, the secretary of the navy is extremely interested in the operation and has been pushing me, via the director, for action to go after Maudlin,” she said, while seating herself.
“That’s interesting, how did the navy find out about Mauldin?” He knew the obvious answer but had to ask the question anyway.
“Intel disseminated from Moscow Station. As for Mauldin, he’s been on the COS’s radar for some time now.”
“This will be a tough assignment, regardless of who takes it on. Success rate about seventy percent, I’d say, maybe eighty, with a lot of field support. Taking and controlling a mentally disturbed person who has been known to have bouts of uncontrollable ramblings, clandestinely, from the institute in Saint Petersburg to an extraction point some place miles away and who knows where yet, will be damn difficult.”
“That’s not how Bill Brandson, sees it, Michael.”
“How in the shit can he know, Claire? And stop calling me Michael. I believe we’ve known each other long enough that we can dispense with the formalities—can’t we?”
“Yes, we can. I thought you preferred to be called Michael.”
“Only Miss Betsy gets away with calling me Michael and Marcie, when she’s upset with me at home. Minor point, anyway, Brandson’s never run an op like this that I’m aware of. Am I missing something?”
She gave him a weak smile and answered. “It’s possible. There’s more information that wasn’t put in the assignment folder and for a good reason. I saw Dr. Peters last week. He’s going to provide you with a drug that can be used to sedate Mauldin during the trip back home.”
Her comment led him to believe that Dr. Peters had been colluding with Brandson to support the operation.
“Back home to where? The DEPOT?”
He knew all about the CIA’s covert medical facility located in Southern Virginia. He had been there before, once to rehabilitate from gunshot wounds he had received while on assignment to Zimbabwe and, more recently, to visit a colleague, Jim Graybill. Jim had been with him in Zimbabwe when the op went from being a success story to a headache for the administration. Mike, Jim, and another colleague had been kidnapped and held hostage in neighboring Mozambique by a renegade colonel. The Chinese were supportive of and backing both regional governments. They were extremely upset with US involvement in the coup that ousted their puppet dictator in Zimbabwe and threatened to intervene, militarily, if the CIA crossed the border into Mozambique to rescue the hostages. Some in the administration felt it was more than just an idle threat. During the hiatus, the three of them were severely tortured, and Graybill had gotten the worst of it before they were rescued by a retired CIA colleague. Jim had become a basket case and mentally deranged as the result of the beatings he’d received. He remained hospitalized at the DEPOT pending improvement in his mental condition, which many feared would never happen.
“Yes, back to the DEPOT,” Claire replied. “How long will it take you to get ready?”
“Six to eight weeks. Why now? Why not later, say in the spring, when the weather will be better? A Level IV op like this means we’ll need military support, and it’ll be close to winter in Russia and possibly snowing by the time we put boots on the ground.”
“Yes, I know that and never mind about the weather. Dr. Peters says that Mauldin could get worse, a lot worse, even beyond his ability to restore his senses if he doesn’t get the right treatment sometime very soon.”
Shocklee was confused.
“How does he know that? He hasn’t seen Mauldin. Has he developed some new drug that works miracles on people with mental disorders?”
“Something like that,” she said. “I don’t know the details, but he thinks it can be effective in treating Dr. Mauldin, and that’s the reason, as well as being pushed by Brandson and the navy, that I’ve decided to go forward with the operation. Also, Dr. Peters has seen a couple of videos: one showing Dimitry in his current state and another of an interview with an institute doctor who has treated him.”
“Sounds to me like Peters and Brandson have been working you pretty hard and each probably for a different reason. It’s obvious that Peters wants Mauldin as a guinea pig to test his new drug, but what’s Brandson’s motivation? I mean, this will be a very difficult and risky operation, and one completely outside the station’s normal operating directive.”
Claire was beginning to feel that Scotty’s favorite operative wasn’t up to the task, but it was just a passing thought. She knew better. Or did she?
“He’s old navy. Brandson worked on the Glomar Explorer when they hoisted K-129 from the bottom of the sea. To him, Mauldin is more than just a happenstance target of opportunity. He sees this as a real chance for the agency, once again, to go after Russian submarine secrets.”
“OK, that explains some of the confusion I had, but why are you giving this assignment to me? Why not a Russian specialist?”
“Because, as you said, this operation is going to require military support, and you have more field experience working with them than anyone else in the directorate.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me. It’s hard to believe there’s no one in SE Division with a military background that can handle this assignment.”
“None with the experience that you have working with the military’s special operators, so you get the short straw, unless of course you think it’s too dangerous.”
She intentionally challenged his ego with the expectation that it would get the desired result.
This ain’t going to make Marcie happy, Mike thought. Another frickin’ TDY, and I haven’t been home for more than three months.
“OK, how about the military? Have they been given a warning notice?”
“Yes, they have. The command at Fort Bragg will be expecting you to give them an update,” Claire replied.
She stood.
“Based on what Dr. Peters tells me, we don’t have a lot of time, so you need to stop whatever it is Africa Division has you working on and turn your attention to putting a plan together, and you need to keep SE updated on your progress.”
She turned and walked toward the door and then turned back to look at Mike.
“Will you and Marcie be at the reception?”
“Yes, we plan on being there.”
“Good. I’ll tell Scotty. He’ll be pleased.”
She left. Mike looked around the room and focused on the world map affixed to a far wall. He got up and walked over to it. He studied it for several minutes, his eyes on the African continent and particularly Mozambique. He thought about Jim and their period of captivity. He was in command of the operation when they were captured and felt responsible for Jim’s continued confinement at the DEPOT, but there didn’t appear to be a damn thing he could do about it. He turned his attention to Western Russia.
How would a team get in and out of Russia, and how many men would it take to exfiltrate Mauldin?
***
Later that evening, after returning home, Mike told Marcie about the possibility of him having to go on another overseas operation. It was during dinner and soon after she had finished telling him that she was going to be accompanying the secretary on an overseas trip to Europe. As an aide to the secretary of state, Marcie knew that clandestine CIA operations were frequently used when diplomacy failed to achieve a desired foreign policy objective. However, being on the secretary’s staff didn’t mean that she always had knowledge of the decisions made by the president about or where to use the CIA for such purposes.
Marcie took a sip of wine, wishing that his trips were as benign as hers. She was tired of the extended periods of time he spent away and never knowing where he was going or when he would be back. She knew better than to get specific with him, but tonight, she needed a little more information than he had been willing to give her.
“I know you can’t tell me where you’re going, hon, but can’t you at least tell me when you’ll be leaving and how long you’ll be gone?”
“I’m guessing the trip will take place around the middle of October. I don’t expect to be gone more than two weeks at the most, depending on the weather—this will be a cold weather trip. Something that I’m not used to, babe. It’ll be totally different than some of my other trips.”
“Will you be going by yourself?”
He thought he had given her enough information, but obviously, he hadn’t.
“I’ll have company —a handful of men from Fort Bragg. I’ll be going down there to visit with them next week.”
Marcie got up and left the table, not mad at him, but at the damn CIA for continually sending him out to do their dirty work. She knew what she was getting into when they married but didn’t believe it was going to be this hard. He told her once of being offered a division chief’s job, which in her mind would mitigate the need for him to do field work; maybe she’d talk to him about it when he got back.
Mike knew she wasn’t happy as he watched her get up and leave the table. He put the plates and silverware in the dishwasher and then joined her on the couch. Marcie had a movie on. He sat down next to her, and she cuddled up next to him.
“That’s when I’m going on my trip,” she said.