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DDCIA Davidson was feeling good. He'd been proven right about Thorne, hadn't he? The Russia operation had turned into a major disaster. Thorne had gone against orders. He was in the wind with OPERA, playing knight in shining armor to her damsel in distress.
Davidson didn't believe for one moment that OPERA had stolen the secret war plan of the Russian high command. He didn't believe Moscow was planning a first strike. Tarasov wasn't that crazy. Sure, the blockade must be annoying the hell out of him, but everyone knew you got around these things through negotiation and backdoor diplomacy. No one in their right mind would start an all-out nuclear war. The Russian generals were professionals. They weren't going to risk turning their beloved motherland into something that glowed in the dark. Thorne was probably sleeping with OPERA and following his hormones.
It was late. Davidson put the files he'd been working on into the wall safe, closed the door, and spun the combination. He closed the door to the inner office, walked past his assistant's desk, stepped into the deserted hallway and headed for the express elevator that would take him to the underground garage reserved for Langley's chiefs. He was halfway to his car before he realized he'd left the keys in his desk. He turned and got back on the elevator.
Back on the seventh floor, he entered the combination for the hall door and went in. The door to the inner office was open, the one he'd left closed. Davidson's shoes made no sound as he crossed the soft carpet.
Ed Bradford was bent over Davidson's desk, his back turned toward the door. He hadn't heard Davidson come in. The wall safe stood open. A file lay open on the desk. Bradford was taking pictures of it with his phone.
Shit! He's the fucking mole!
Davidson backed quietly away. He stepped out into the hall and closed the door. Then he called security.
"This is Deputy Director Davidson," he said. "COO Bradford is currently in my office. Get up here now and arrest him. Secure his phone."
"Sir? Did I hear you correctly? You want us to arrest him?"
"You got it. Put him on ice. No contact. He's to have no visitors. No calls. No communication with the outside world. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
Davidson disconnected. He had to call Kramer. She wasn't going to like what he had to say.
Kramer picked up. She sounded annoyed.
"What is it, Scott? I'm about to go out."
"The mole is Bradford. He's in my office right now, photographing a classified file. I've alerted security."
The elevator opened and two armed guards stepped out.
"Security is here. He's not going anywhere."
"Call Olmstead and Carlson. Meeting in my office, one hour."
Kramer disconnected.
Thinking about it, Davidson realized there had been signs something was off with Bradford. He'd caught him once before in the inner office when he shouldn't have been there. Bradford had asked about an operation that really wasn’t his concern. In hindsight, Davidson knew he should have reported it, but at the time it had seemed innocent enough.
How did Bradford get the combination to the safe? With a sinking feeling, Davidson remembered opening it when Bradford was in the room. He could have been close enough to see the sequence of numbers. It was a security lapse that might come back and bite him.
Well, there was no proof he'd been lax. If Bradford tried to implicate him, he'd deny it. It would be Bradford's word against his. Who were they going to believe? A traitor? Davidson didn't think so. In fact, he ought to come out of this looking pretty good. After all, he'd caught the mole.
Feeling things were under control, he made the calls to Carlson and Olmstead.