Robert Smith - The Planner

“I may need your help later on for a situation regarding the Rainbow Actors.”

“Oh? What do they want?”

“Assurances. I’m sorting it out tomorrow.”

“I presume you’re not talking about money.”

“No,” said Planner.

“Good. Let me know how it goes,” and the Lodge Master closed the call.

* * * *

7am. Planner yawned and leaned over and clicked off the alarm clock the instant it started to bleep. Planner looked at a picture of his wife and young daughter. It would be her birthday soon. He wondered if she would like flowers.

Coming out of shower, Planner received a call on his cell phone. Caller-id showed the caller was Bates.

“Where are they?”

Bates provided the information.

“Has the place been swept for bugs?”

Bates replied in the affirmative.

“I’ll meet you there.”

* * * *

At the Comfort Inn, Langley 24, six well-dressed middle-eastern men, Mohammed Atta, Khalid Al-Midhar, Majed Moqed, Hani Hanjour, Salem Alhamzi and Nawaq Alhamzi were having an animated discussion amongst themselves. There was a knock on the door and the arguing stopped.

“Who is it?” asked one.

“You know who it is. Let us in!” said Bates sarcastically.

Majed smiled, “Yep. That’s the password.” And unbolted the door.

Khalid directly challenged Planner as he entered the room, “So who are you?”

“I’m… the Planner,” said Planner.

“I thought it was already planned,” said Khalid.

“I sort out the details. I make sure that there are no pants around our ankles when the shit hits. Ok?” Planner said, pausing for effect. “We’re doing our best to sort everything out for you. So what’s the problem? I know there’s an issue with communication and all… We need to be professional about this.”

“Communication is the least of our problems,” replied Khalid dismissively.

“So what is it? Is it the flight training?” Planner said, trying, but failing, to be sympathetic.

Hani Hanjour muttered a response, “They’ve heard!”

“Heard? No. What?” Planner said.

“Hani couldn’t persuade a flight instructor to go up with him,” said Majed 25.

“When was this?” asked Planner, finally able to sound empathetic.

But it had no impact with Atta who stood up and angrily confronted Planner, “You know! Don’t pretend. You know what is going on. And we know what is going on. Our every move is being tracked. We’re being watched! We feel like we are dead men!”

Taking a step back, Planner said, “We know about the FBI agents following you. They’ve been stopped.”

As one, Kalid, Majed And Hani exclaimed, “FBI!? 26”

“I didn’t know they were FBI,” said Hani wide-eyed.

“Well who did you think they were?” said Bates sarcastically.

“You Guys! CIA!” replied Hani more forcibly. “Why are they following us?”

“They’re not part of the team. The FBI got a tip-off from elsewhere. We’re handling it. We’ll clear it up,” assured Planner.

Atta was still less than happy, “We know how you operate,” he growled. “How you like to clean up. Professionally. We are here to make sure we are not part of the clean up.”

“What’s the problem? The money? Visas?” asked Planner trying his let-be-reasonable-about-this act.

“How do we know you won’t kill us?” asked Khalid suspiciously.

“Come on… you’re central to the plan,” Planner replied.

“Our deaths are central to the plan,” noted Khalid pointedly.

“You think we’d follow you and bump you off?” said Planner trying hard not to sound like a gangster.

“You’ve probably already planned it, Planner!” retorted Atta.

“No,” said Planner firmly. “The plan is as-agreed with you. You’ve selected your own new identities. We’ll give you access to the remainder of the money on the day of the event and you disappear. And then you keep off the radar. We won’t want to raise the story again. That makes no sense. We’re not going to draw attention to it.”

“Your people have been following us. They know our contacts,” reminded Khalid.

“They are FBI not CIA,” responded Bates.

“It’s all the same to us,” said Khalid.

“So what will be better for you? What do you want?” consoled Planner.

All the middle-eastern men glanced over at Khalid. “You just want our names,” Khalid said. “So you give us the money and we leave USA the night before the event.”

“But we need you to go through the airport on the day. Catch you on camera,” Bates protested mildly.

“You don’t need all of us to do that. You can fix it,” asserted Atta.

“What are you suggesting, just some of you?” Bates asked surprised.

“We have some… friends… that can turn up at the airport for us. They’ll pretend to be us. Hiijii has the details,” Majed interjected smoothly.

Planner took a second to process and then nods “Ok. Is that it? Money early and exit the USA the night before the event? With your friends turning up?”

“You’ll do it?” said Khalid with some surprise in his voice.

“Not a problem. Do you want to shake on it?” said Planner.

“Does that make some sort of difference? Just write it down!” said Atta flatly. 27 28

* * * *

Returning to Planner’s car in the motel car park, Bates mutters in wonder, “Pasties for our patsies. Whatever next? I presume you realise this will water down our back story considerably.”

“We just have to doctor a few security videos. I think we can manage that. We’ll have our people on the ground at the airport, right?”

“Right”

“Have you arranged for the FBI to be out the way?” asked Planner.

“Oh yes, all but our own men will be stuck in LA. On a Training course! 29” said Bates with a chuckle.

“Yeah. Right!” laughed Planner.

Bates enters the car in the driver’s seat and uncovers a laptop computer. He examines the on-screen results of the frequency scanner that had been running while they had been inside; the system detected bugs: both voice recording and video recording devices. “Nothing to report,” he said to Planner when he entered the passenger seat. “The meeting was off the record.”

Planner nodded.

* * * *

That evening on the same country road as the day before, Planner stops his car, inserts a new sim-card into his cell phone and dials a number.

“It’s Robert. The Rainbow Actors are ready to perform,” stated Planner.

“Any problems?” asked the Lodge Master.

“They’ve been spooked a little. They needed some further space and we’ve some minor embellishments to the back-story to make. But we’re resolving quite a few inconsistencies in the storyline.”

“Ok. Good. We don’t want any more miscommunication. So the COG has decided to centralise all the operational planning teams.”

“Where to?”

“CIA offices in New York. The Salomon Brothers Building 30.”

* * * *

Planner was tapping on the airline counter, barely concealing his frustration. He was unaccustomed at waiting in line at the first class check-in; this was most unusual. Indeed, that was what the staff member said when she put back the phone.

“Oh. This is unusual,” said the attractive female check-in agent, looking genuinely surprised.

“Oh?”

“We have a medical-emergency passenger on this flight. We’re rescheduling most of the first class passengers either onto other flights or business class. I’m terribly sorry, Sir. What would be your preference?” The check-in agent looked Planner in the eyes.

“When’s the next flight?” asked Planner.

“Not until this afternoon. Although we can check other airlines,” she said, immediately picking up a telephone.