Дэвид Балдаччи - The Escape

“Puller, I don’t know who did that. I’m telling you the truth.”

“I did some reading online. INSCOM conducts operations for military commanders.”

“No big secret.”

“But you’re also tasked to do the same for ‘national decision makers.’ That term is both suggestive and fluid. Could include folks like the president, the secretary of state, Speaker of the House.”

“I’m not here on behalf of any of them, I can assure you.”

“And the head of NSA also runs the U.S. Cyber Command.”

“I was aware of that.”

“Interesting.”

She shrugged. “There’s a lot of overlap. Some claim they’re mirror images of each other. Although NSA operates under Title 50 while Cyber Command checks in under Title 10 authority.”

“Is that an important distinction?”

“Maybe, maybe not. There’s talk that the entities will have different leaders in the future. Fact is they’re now both full-time jobs. But they’ll always be operationally related.”

“And they’re both based at Fort Meade.”

“Yes.”

“Kissing cousins, then.”

“Not a term I’d use,” she said, sounding slightly offended.

“Somebody came and got the transformers, Knox. And the guy they took them from said they outranked him. But that’s all he would say. That tells me he was told to say no more. Even to the official investigators.”

“Which tells you what?”

“That there are multiple investigations – both official and unofficial – going on here along with multiple agendas. It’s hard enough to solve a crime without all that baggage. And that baggage is definitely coming from spook central. I can feel it in my official Army jockey shorts.”

“Well, what exactly do you want me to do about it?”

“We’re a team. Or at least that’s what you led me to believe. So based on that the answer to your question should be pretty obvious.”

“You want me to find out if anybody on the intelligence side had anything to do with the transformers’ disappearance?”

He forced a smile. “I’ll make you into an investigator yet, Knox.”

Ignoring his sarcasm, she said, “Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of. Speaking of spooks, any ideas on Daughtrey?”

“If my brother killed the man back in the prison, he could have killed Daughtrey.”

“Why?”

“They both worked at STRATCOM.”

“So you think that’s at the center of this?”

“I have no idea. You know more about that world than I do. And it’s a big one. A lot bigger than most people realize.”

“Did you know that Cyber Command technically comes under STRATCOM’s leadership?”

He looked at her questioningly. “But how does that work with NSA?”

“It’s all very incestuous, Puller. NSA operates from under hundreds of intelligence platforms. You never know where the tentacles are going to reach.”

“Then how the hell does anybody keep all of it straight?”

“I think that’s the point. They don’t want anyone knowing enough to keep things straight. Then they might have to start answering some tough questions.”

“Makes congressional oversight damn difficult.”

“Damn near impossible,” amended Knox. “Which, again, is the central point.”

He eyed her curiously. “These are puzzling observations coming from someone in the intelligence sector.”

“Just because I work there doesn’t mean I have to drink all the Kool-Aid. And have you wondered about something else?”

“What?”

“What your brother was sent to prison for.”

“He was charged with national security crimes. Treason.”

She said in a scolding tone, “And you weren’t curious about the exact circumstances? That’s surprising for an investigator. ”

“I did wonder. I wondered a lot. As soon as I got back from deployment overseas I checked into it. My brother was already in prison. But I did investigate.”

“And?”

“And the file was sealed. I couldn’t get anyone to even return a phone call or meet with me. Everything was completely hushed up. Not even the media really got wind of anything. It didn’t make any of the newspapers and I only saw one item about it on CNN, and then it just went away like dust in a black hole in space.”

“So you don’t know what he was convicted of?”

He glanced sharply at her. “Why? Do you know anything about it?”

“I think we might want to find out about it.”

Puller kept driving as he thought about this.

She said, “Or do you not want to know if your brother is really guilty or not?”

“He was convicted.”

“And in your experience an innocent person has never been convicted?”

“Not that many.”

“ One is too many,” said Knox.

“But if the file is sealed on my brother’s case?”

“You’re the investigator. You must have some ideas on how to find out things. And if I’m going to stick my neck out about these transformers gone missing, you can do the same with your brother’s case.”

And she said no more as they drove along right into the gathering storm that might as well have been inside the car as well as outside it.

HE AWOKE AT noon and slowly looked around.

Robert Puller had been dreaming that he had escaped from the DB. So when he woke, he thought he would see the interior of his prison cell.

But I did escape. I am free. For now.

A few minutes later he showered, careful to keep the soap and water off his altered face, and changed into his one other set of clothes. He would have to go shopping soon if he managed to maintain his freedom. He looked at himself in the mirror, if only to confirm that he still didn’t look a thing like himself. He just needed to avoid being arrested, because he couldn’t change his fingerprints, DNA, or retinal marker. His belly grumbling again, he drove to a twenty-four-hour diner and ate at the counter. Over his scrambled eggs, bacon, and buttered biscuits he read the local paper, a copy of which was sitting on the counter. The story he stumbled on had not made the front page and he wondered why.

Air Force General Found Dead in Motel Room in Leavenworth, Kansas.

He read on. Timothy Daughtrey, age forty-three and a one-star general in the Air Force, had been visiting the area on military business. He had not been staying at the motel. And there was no information on how he got there or the motive for his death, nor were there any suspects. There was a hotline number for people to call with information.

Puller searched his memory. Daughtrey. Timothy Daughtrey. He didn’t recall the name, but then again the Air Force was a pretty big entity. It might be totally unrelated or it might be directly connected to what was going on with him.

He finished his breakfast and carried the paper with him back to the motel. He got online and did a search on the dead general. There were numerous references to him, including a Wikipedia page. He ran his eye down the page.

There it is.

He was with U.S. Cyber, a command component of STRATCOM.

Daughtrey had been assigned there just over four months earlier, well after Puller had gone to the DB.

His career looked pretty straightforward. There was even a YouTube video of the man pontificating about military matters on some obscure show that probably only people in uniform, and only certain ones of those, would bother to watch. He seemed intelligent and straightforward on the video. Stupid people did not get assigned to STRATCOM. But he was assuredly not straightforward. Such people also did not get assigned to STRATCOM. In fact, reading between the lines of the video interview, Puller came away with the impression that Daughtrey had learned more about the interviewer than the journalist had learned about him, or, more importantly, about STRATCOM.