Rick Mofina - Free Fall

“Now? Let’s say I’m something of an underground activist.”

“Activist for what?”

“Letting the public know the truth about what its government is up to. With Overlord, the government worked with defense and airline experts to develop the technology to land troubled planes safely by remote control. It was called the Unhindered Autopilot System.”

“We said on the show that the technology exists, that patents were obtained to develop it.”

“You barely scratched the surface. Overlord was developed, but abandoned after the government feared it was leaked or stolen.”

“You mean it’s out there?”

“That’s the fear.”

“Then why haven’t we heard more about this?”

“They don’t want the public to know. It would destroy the airline industry and cripple the global economy.”

Kate took a moment.

“I’m sorry but this is too fantastic to believe.”

“I have documentation.”

Kate caught her breath.

“Okay, send it to me and let me take a look at it.”

“No. I’ll give it to you only in person, if you agree to meet me.”

“Are you in New York City?”

“No. California.”

“Are you coming to New York?”

“No. You’d have to come here.”

“To California? Look, I can’t go to California based on your claim.”

“Give me an email.”

“What?”

“Give me an email. I’ll send you a sample and you’ll see. It’s classified documentation I received from my sources, part of a file I’ve been assembling.”

Kate gave him an email, a safe one that protected against viruses and malware. Twenty seconds later, her phone chimed, and she was reading a page on Homeland Security letterhead stamped Top Secret. It was less than a year old and had the grainy look of a document that had been photocopied several times. The subject headline was Project Overlord: Security Breach Concern.

Much of the content was redacted, blacked out, except the headline Project Chiefs. Some two dozen names and their affiliations were listed under it. Each name and affiliation was redacted. However, initials were penned next to some. Kate read: AU, JF, KS, RC, RM, SK, TH.

She got back on the line with her caller.

“How can I tell if this is a legitimate document? Besides, with so much blacked out, I’m not even sure what it says.”

“It’s real. I swear it’s real. Little by little I’ve been getting leads on the names of the team members. I think one of them was suspected of a security breach and that person is your Zarathustra.”

“How did you come to that conclusion?”

“I’ve been connecting the dots. That’s what I do. And I heard through the grapevine that one of the experts had a family tragedy and became unstable. I have no idea which one. There are twenty-four. But I’m thinking that it’s possible whichever one it was may be using the technology to exact some revenge for the project being canceled or something.”

“That’s a heck of a leap there.”

“I know, but I’ve been working on this and watching your reports and I’m convinced this is your smoking gun. The incidents with the Shikra and EastCloud flights are the evidence. If you agree to meet me in person, I’ll give you all the documents, the information, some of the names I have, everything.”

“Why not go to the FBI or the FAA, or NTSB?”

“I’d be charged with possessing confidential national security documents. You, being the press, are protected by shield laws.”

Kate looked over at her daughter and sister.

“Okay, I have to go. Let me think about this and talk it over with my editors. Give me a number to call you.”

“No, I’ll call you.”

“I need a number from you.”

“I can’t do that. I’ll call your news desk and I’ll use the name Malcolm Grady. Tell them to put me through to you.”

“Okay, very clandestine, like the movies.”

“Yeah,” he said nervously. “Like the movies.”

Kate hung up and stared at nothing until she felt a tug at her arm.

“Mom?” Grace was loud.

“Yes, sweetie.”

“I said can we go to the Shake Shack?”

Manhattan, New York

“We’ve got to look into this,” Chuck told Kate on the phone.

She’d reached him while he was at the Hemingway exhibit at the Morgan Library in Midtown Manhattan. After she told him about her tip regarding Project Overlord and sent him the attachment, Chuck said he wanted to meet at Bryant Park.

Kate, Grace and Vanessa took a cab there from the Shake Shack. Chuck was waiting at a table near the carousel. It was nice to see him without a button-down shirt and tie, casual in a navy polo shirt and khakis. But the expression on his face was all business. Vanessa and Grace lined up for a ride on the carousel, leaving Kate and Chuck to talk.

“We may have something here,” he said. “But there are concerns. Is the document genuine, or are we being set up? Is this guy a nut, or the real deal?”

“I certainly had the same concerns.”

“After you called and sent me the attachment, I sent it to Yardley at our DC bureau.”

“What’s he think?”

“We’ll find out soon. He’ll be calling me.”

As if on cue, Chuck’s phone vibrated and he answered.

“Laneer.”

As he listened, Kate waved to Grace, who passed by laughing on a white horse. The carousel huffed out organ music as Vanessa took pictures.

“Okay, Tim, I’m putting you on Speaker.” Chuck adjusted his phone and set it on the table. He and Kate leaned in to hear Yardley without increasing the volume. There was no risk of them being overheard above the squealing children and other sounds of the park.

“I’ve never heard of Project Overlord,” Yardley said. “But there’ve always been rumors the government was working on something along those lines after 9/11.”

“What about the document? Does it look real?” Chuck asked.

“It does, but there’s no surefire way for us to test its authenticity without raising flags. If I started showing it to national security sources here, we’d tip our hand.”

“We could take it to the FBI, see what they’ll confirm?” Kate asked.

“No,” Chuck said.

“But we’ve been doing well with them,” Kate said.

“No, your caller’s scared. He trusts you. No, you get to him first and get the records.”

“I just thought we could leverage something from the FBI because we’re always pushing them to give us stuff,” Kate said.

“That’s how it is. That’s our job. We traffic in information-that’s our role. We’re not police informants. We’ve already alerted them to the security and safety aspects of this story. We are not partners with law enforcement. They’ll do a criminal investigation and we’ll do a journalistic one.”

“I agree with Chuck, Kate,” Yardley said.

“What’s your take on sending Kate to California, based on what we have?” Chuck asked.

“I’d send her to meet the source, get a read on him, get the documents. We can work on verifying them. If it goes south, all it’ll cost you is the trip. Otherwise, if you fumbled on the real deal, someone else will score on you.”

“Agreed. Thanks, Tim.” Chuck hung up and looked at Kate. “I’ll send you to California to pursue this, but with a few conditions. Go as soon as you can make arrangements with your source and our travel office. But you’re not going alone. You’ll go with a photographer.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s my job to watch out for you and put this into context. Look at all that’s happened to you with this story. I’m not taking any risks.”

“Neither am I. I’m a big girl, and I’ve been covering crime stories on my own for years. I can handle myself.”