“Hi, Harry,” Dawn Warner said as the Denver SAC got on the line.
His name was Harry Wheaton and his file said he was a former Mississippi college football player and former marine helicopter pilot. She looked at the man’s picture from his file now on her screen. He was forty-two and square-jawed and was actually quite attractive.
I wouldn’t toss that out of bed for eating crackers, Warner thought.
“Thanks for taking my call right away, Harry,” Warner said. “I hope I’m not keeping you from something.”
“No, not at all,” Wheaton said. “Glad to talk to you. What can I do for the Department of Justice this morning?”
Wow, he didn’t even have the Walmart hick accent she was expecting, Warner thought. He sounded normal.
“I’m glad you asked, Harry,” Dawn Warner said pleasantly as she stood and started a loop around the conference table. At the other side of it, she knelt at the wastepaper basket and picked out the whiteboard marker.
“Harry,” she said as she began to twirl the marker between her fingers and continued her walk. “I’m trying to, well, I guess I’m trying to get your take on something. On an agent I believe is in your offices today. Special Agent Kit Hagen.”
“Kit Hagen?” Wheaton said. “Yes, she’s here. She was just in here with me a minute ago.”
Warner’s antennae, already up, went suddenly way, way up.
Why would Hagen be talking to the SAC? she thought.
“She’s an impressive agent, especially after that tragedy in Wyoming,” Wheaton continued. “I mean, to bounce back like that so soon. Truly, I tip my hat to her.”
“Well, Harry,” Warner said. “This is confidential, extremely confidential, but Special Agent Hagen is acting somewhat erratically. She’s supposed to be home on leave here in Washington, DC, but obviously she’s not. She’s, well... She’s sick, Harry. Mentally unbalanced. We think she’s suffering from PTSD from the shooting.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Wheaton said. “She seemed absolutely fine. I spoke to her not five minutes ago. What the hell is going on?”
“It’s bad, Harry. Trust me. A family member contacted us yesterday. He said Hagen drove over to his house out of the blue and that she was acting very strangely. She told him she wanted him to have her apartment and car if anything were to happen to her. He asked her what the hell was she talking about and she took off. We spoke to a Bureau psychologist, Harry. They think Hagen’s risk of suicide couldn’t be at a more critical level.”
“This is a shock,” Wheaton said. “Agent Hagen was just in here. She said she had to receive some classified information. She’s in our SCIF right now.”
The marker dropped from Warner’s hand.
In the SCIF! Warner thought.
That was it! The NSA files. Hagen was going through Echelon. Going through the files for something. And in the damn SCIF!
“Hello? Are you still there?”
“Some classified information?” Dawn Warner finally spat out.
“Yes. I mean, I guess. That’s what she said. But that isn’t true? She’s mentally unstable?”
Warner closed her eyes. They needed to grab her. They were right outside. They needed to grab her right now.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s worse than we thought. Harry, listen. Do you know if she’s armed?”
“I don’t, but I would assume so.”
“And she’s still in there? I mean, she didn’t leave the SCIF, did she?”
“No, she didn’t leave. It’s right around the corner near my office and I would have noticed. Let me ask my secretary. Hold on.”
Please, Warner prayed as they waited.
“No,” Harry said. “My secretary says she’s still in there.”
Thank you, Warner said to herself, pumping her fist.
“What do you want me to do? Do you want me to get some agents and get her out of there?” Harry said.
“No, Harry. She’s armed. Don’t go near her. When she comes out, just act like everything is fine. Just stall her and keep her in the building. I’m actually getting on the horn right now with the Bureau doctor. We already called the nearest military hospital. They have a team on the way.
“They have people for this, Harry. Specialists. Kit needs to be hospitalized but we need to do this delicately. Let the professionals handle it.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Wheaton said. “This is just...”
“Tragic. Exactly, Harry. But it’s going to be fine. Just keep your personnel away from her and give the specialists I send in as much latitude as they need. They’ll be arriving in the lobby forthwith.”