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Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia

 

“I’ve got hits on our two suspects.”

Chris Leroux turned in his chair located at the heart of one of the CIA’s state-of-the-art operations centers. From here, he and his team of analysts could tap any source of information around the world, run clandestine operations, monitor world affairs and military movements, and pretty much create any havoc they might want.

As long as they had been granted the authority to do so, of course.

“Who are they?” he asked his youngest team member and computer wunderkind, Randy Child.

“The first guy in the garb is Dawit Ganno. He’s traveling on an Ethiopian passport. Arrived from London, departed JFK earlier today, heading back to Ethiopia. The other one is Asrat Fida. He’s an immigrant originally from Ethiopia. He has his citizenship, and works as a janitor at the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church of Our Savior in the Bronx. No criminal record, files his taxes, looks clean.”

Leroux pursed his lips, folding his arms. “Okay, we need to know why these two have taken an interest in the professors, and what the professors are doing in Ethiopia. The Chief has authorized us to find out what we can from the confines of this room. No external resources, at least for now. Not until we confirm they’re in trouble.”

Child grunted. “They usually are.”

“True, but the Chief wants to give them the benefit of the doubt today.”

“He’s optimistic,” said Sonya Tong, his senior analyst.

“I guess his glass is half full today,” offered Child.

“Woke up on the right side of the bed?”

“Got some last night?”

Groans greeted Child’s last one.

He spun in his chair, looking at the others. “What? Did that one cross the line?”

Tong gave him the eye. “Ya think?”

Child nodded. “Okay, note to self. No jokes about the Chief’s sex life.”

“Anyone’s sex life,” added Leroux.

“Amended note. Anyone’s sex life.” He grinned. “Including mine?”

“You have to have one to joke about it,” muttered Tong.

“Ouch!”

Tong high-fived one of the others as laughter rippled through the room.

Child, red-faced, pointed at her. “It’s on like Donkey Kong!”

Leroux shook his head. “No, it’s not. Trace our Ethiopians’ movements, and the professors. I want to know what they’re doing in Ethiopia with that equipment they ordered, and why these two felt it was necessary to break into their home and apparently take nothing.”