John Krygelski - The Aegis Solution

“Fair enough.”

“What is your explanation for your boss not knowing that Kreitzmann has been coming and going from Aegis for years?”

Elias shrugged. “I don’t have one. But I’ll tell you that I used to sit in his chair and, from what you and Tillie have told me, Kreitzmann has had open access to Aegis for long enough that part of the time was on my watch. And I didn’t know about it.”

“Since you’ve broached the subject, may I ask why you left the job?”

Suddenly, the omelet tasted sour in his mouth. Elias lowered his fork and sat back in the chair.

Seeing Elias’ reaction, Wilson hurriedly added, “I’m sorry. My question is clearly painful to you, and I have no right to ask.”

“No, you have every right, considering the situation we’re all in together.”

Looking away from his meal companion, Elias stared at the dense greenery surrounding them and allowed his eyes to go unfocused.

“My wife and I were field agents together in the CIA. That’s how we met.”

“You did not mention you were married.”

Elias did not respond directly to Wilson’s comment. “It was in the days before 9/11, the days before Homeland Security existed. After 9/11, there was a massive push to coordinate the intelligence gathered by the various agencies. Too many things were falling through the cracks because the different agencies each knew a part of the puzzle but they never talked, never compared notes. Homeland Security came into being, and the OCI was established. I was the first director. My wife…Leah was her name…stayed in the field.”

“Those are not the makings for an easy marriage.”

Elias smiled. “We were used to it. The times apart were hard. The times together were so intense, so good. I guess it balanced out. But we were planning on Leah coming in from the field and taking a desk job at OCI.”

His voice dropping to barely above a whisper, Elias said, “We just didn’t make the move quickly enough.”

“Oh!”

“I lost Leah while she was on an assignment in Afghanistan.”

“Elias, I am so sorry.”

Elias kept his eyes on the greenery, allowing his mind to conjure pleasant images of his prior life. “Richard Faulk, the man who took my place, was her immediate supervisor. He’s the one who ordered her to infiltrate a Taliban training camp.”

“A woman to infiltrate a Taliban camp?”

“Actually, it works better than you think it would. As long as the woman follows Sharia law, including keeping herself covered in public, she is nearly invisible. The mentality of the Muslims is that women are less than nothing. They don’t take them seriously as a possible threat. And burqas are a great way to conceal weapons and communication gear.”

“Makes sense.”

“And she had a backup. Eric Stone.”

“Eric Stone sounds like an Anglo name. How was he able to fit in with the Taliban?”

“Eric’s father was English, his mother Lebanese. He got the lion’s share of his genes from his mother. He looked the part, and he also spoke the language fluently.”

Frustration welling up, Elias stopped himself. “I don’t know why I’m referring to Eric in the past tense. I don’t know that he’s gone.”

“If he’s in Kreitzmann’s camp, Tillie will find him.”

“I hope so. Leah was also amazing with languages and sounded like an Afghani. She had free rein — could come and go from the training areas, serve food to the Taliban leaders as they met, clean their quarters, everything. All she had to do was listen to their conversations and record them. While cleaning their quarters, she photographed documents, maps, plans, you name it.”

“Impressive.”

Elias smiled ruefully. “Leah was good. Very good.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“We ordered a missile strike on the base. Leah and Eric were notified and knew to be out of the area before the strike. Eric made it out. Leah didn’t.”

“Why didn’t she get out?”

Wilson watched as Elias’ face went through a gradual transformation into an unrestrained mask of rage. Through gritted teeth, Elias explained, “They, the Taliban, knew the strike was coming. Somehow. From what I’ve been able to put together since it happened, the Taliban leader, Khalid, ordered the evacuation of the camp. But only the key men were told to leave. The women, the children, the elderly, and all of the others he considered to be nonessential were made to stay.”

“Why would he do that?”

“He knew that we maintained high-altitude aerial surveillance right up to the strike time. He didn’t want us to call it off. He wanted us to think, at least initially, that we were successful. Remember, it’s as much a war of PR as it is a war of bullets and bombs. He wanted to embarrass us. We would announce the successful bombing of a Taliban camp and then, through Al-Jazeera, he would release videos showing that we had only killed women, children, and old people, news that would inflame the anti-war side in America and the rest of the world.”

“What happened to your wife?”

“That was icing on the cake for Khalid. Apparently, he not only knew about the impending strike, but her cover was also blown. When the missiles hit their lased targets, Leah was staked spread-eagled on ground zero.”

Wilson was speechless. The horror of the description burned everything else out of his consciousness. All he could see with his mind’s eye was the image of Elias’ wife staked to the ground, knowing the exact moment the missile would be arriving. He could not even begin to comprehend how she must have felt in those last minutes and seconds.

Recovering enough to speak, Wilson asked, “Did you ever find out where the leak came from?”

“No.” Elias’ mood transformed from furor to despair. His voice became muted. “I left the agency right after it happened. I had to. I couldn’t think about any of the other aspects of the job. All I could think about was Leah, Khalid, and the traitor. I’ve spent every waking minute since that day trying to find the sonofabitch who was responsible for her death.”

“Elias, I cannot begin to express my sympathy. Going through what you’ve been through is unimaginable to me.”

Elias did not speak. He had long ago run out of appropriate responses to the condolences he received.

“I don’t understand something, though.”

Elias looked back at Wilson. “What’s that?”

“If Eric Stone was able to get out in time, why didn’t he call off the strike?”

“He did.”

Wilson could see the anger returning to Elias’ face.

“Then why did it still happen?”

“He contacted his immediate superior. It was the supervisor’s job to convey the news to the military. Let’s simply say that they didn’t receive the ‘abort’ message in time.”

“His immediate…wouldn’t that have been Faulk? The man you said took your place?”

His voice drenched with bitterness, Elias answered, “One and the same.”

“And he is the man who sent you into Aegis?”

Elias nodded.

“Wilson, it’s a shame I didn’t know you earlier.”

“Why’s that?”

“It occurred to me that your knack for pattern recognition could apply to intelligence work, particularly the process of finding a mole…a traitor…within an organization.”

Wilson leaned forward, resting his elbows to the sides of his half-eaten plate of food. “That would be an avenue I’ve never traveled, but I believe that you could be right. If we get through our current dilemma intact, I would be happy to take a look at your notes.”

“Oh, we will get out of this. I promise you that.”

“How can you be so sure? You’re locked inside a fortress designed to keep everyone in, and you have an army of superhuman beings searching for you.”