Vince Flynn: The Last Man

Wilson had known this was how it would play out and he was ready. “I am sorry, sir, but there are some extenuating circumstances.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I’m listening.”

Wilson intentionally fidgeted in his chair. He wanted to convey the sense that he was taking all this very seriously. “The information was originally passed on to me by a very important person who did not want their name connected to this in any way.”

Hargrave had started his career at the FBI, and then at the age of forty he was appointed to the U.S. Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court. He had spent eleven years on the bench and knew how this game was played. “And that person is?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say, sir.” Wilson remained stoic, although inside he took great joy in the fact that Hargrave’s pale face had turned suddenly red.

“That is unacceptable. We sat in the director’s office less than a month ago and he specifically told you that you were to keep me involved in any investigations your office was handling. There was no gray area.” Hargrave shook his head. “The director is going to be very disappointed. I’m not sure you’re going to be catching that flight to Jalalabad.”

Wilson had expected this and was prepared to take the right tack. “Sir, there has been no investigation, just some very troubling accusations made by a very prominent player. I didn’t feel it was right to bring any of this to your attention because frankly it was beneath you. Until I could figure out if these accusations were fact or fiction I didn’t want to give the matter any more life than it deserved.”

Hargrave dissected the words for a few seconds and asked, “Who is the power player who made the accusations?”

“I’d rather not say, sir.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t, but that’s now how this works. I’m your boss and if you want to fly to the other side of the world and spend taxpayer dollars investigating a fellow federal employee, you need to read me in on this.”

Wilson crossed his legs and made a great show of looking at the round clock on the wall. He sighed and offered, “The person in question is a senator, sir, and as part of our agreement, he made me swear that his name would not be dragged into this.”

“How convenient.”

“I’m not making this up,” Wilson said defensively.

“It doesn’t matter. If you want to get on that plane you are going to tell me the name of this mystery senator.”

“Sir, I gave my word.”

“I’m losing my patience, Joel. I’m your boss. This isn’t the Cub Scouts, it’s the FBI, and we have rules and laws that we are duty bound to follow. A personal promise you made to a politician holds no water with us. You are going to tell me everything you know right now, or I will call Dulles and pull your flight plan and then in about four hours I’ll be having breakfast with the director and I will brief him on your most recent activities. When I’m done, he will ask me for my recommendation as to your future as acting director of Counterintelligence.” Hargrave paused and stared at Wilson for an uncomfortably long moment. “Based on your refusal to follow the most simple of orders I’m fairly certain my recommendation will be less than stellar.”

Wilson had been fairly certain this was how this little drama would play out, but in order to make it convincing he needed to follow his script. He blurted out the name. “Carl Ferris.”

Hargrave nearly choked. “You mean to tell me you launched an investigation based on innuendo from one of the biggest partisan hacks to ever serve in the United States Senate?”

Wilson played dumb. “I have no opinion on the man, sir. When a sitting U.S. senator asks for a private meeting I take it very seriously.”

“Good God, you fool,” Hargrave said haltingly. “I don’t believe for a second that you are that naive.” Hargrave was on his feet pacing now-his brain struggling for a way to unwind this potential mess before it saw the light of day. Carl Ferris was a master manipulator of the media and the supposed facts they reported.

Wilson offered an additional piece of information. “He told me you had it in for him.”

“Excuse me?”

“Senator Ferris told me that you didn’t like him. He wouldn’t get into specifics, but he said it had something to do with your days on the FISA bench.”

Hargrave turned to Wilson and said, “The issue he is alluding to is sealed and not up for discussion, but I can tell you that the senator did not comport himself well.”

“I don’t want to get in the middle of a pissing match between you two. What happened is none of my business.”

“There is no pissing match.” Hargrave didn’t like the way Wilson had turned this into a personal matter. “What’s at issue here is that you have once again failed to keep me informed of what you are up to and now you are about to get on a plane with one of my Go Teams and insert yourself into an extremely delicate situation.” Hargrave grabbed the back of one of the chairs and said, “Let me ask you something. Have you bothered to think of how our friends at the CIA are going to react when you show up and start sticking your nose in the middle of this mess?”

“Personally, I could care less what those Neanderthals at Langley think.”

Hargrave had encountered this type of behavior in others before and he knew how destructive it could be. “We are on the same team,” he said flatly.

“And my job is to make sure we stay on the same team.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“In my department no one is above suspicion. My job is to stop the enemy from penetrating our national security apparatus, and the easiest way for the enemy to do that is to get one of our people to turn on us.”

“What are you implying?”

“I’m implying nothing. The facts are that Joe Rickman is one of the darkest spooks this country has. He’s a walking, breathing encyclopedia of things that are so wrong it’s ridiculous. If he has been kidnapped it is our duty to offer Langley our capable assistance if for no other reason than that we need to get a handle on the breadth of the damage. We should be the coordinating agency, because God knows Langley will want to admit only a fraction of the possible damage. We need a full accounting of our exposure.”

Hargrave didn’t want to but he had to concede the point. Six months from now it might look very bad if he forced Counterespionage to sit this out. “I see where you’re coming from, but I want you to play nice.”

“I will be there to offer assistance in finding Rickman, and if along the way I see that any laws have been broken I will consult you before I move my investigation in a new direction.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Wilson smiled. There was no need to report his other concerns at this point. As Senator Ferris had already warned him, Hargrave wouldn’t believe them anyway. Wilson stood, saying, “Thank you, sir. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get moving.”

“One more thing, Joel. I want you to check in with me every day. I need to know what you’re up to.”

“I was planning on it, sir.”

Hargrave walked Wilson to the door and watched him leave. He didn’t believe for a second that Wilson was planning on keeping him informed, and he found it even less believable that Wilson was planning on simply aiding the CIA in finding Rickman. All things considered, though, he had to let him go. Rickman was a valuable asset and the FBI needed to make sure the broader national security interests were being looked after. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else going on here. Something that Wilson was keeping from him.