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By the time he was done, his assistant, Stuart, had finished taking the dog upstairs and had joined them in the den, along with a laptop, two legal pads, and a file folder. The DNI asked the security men to wait outside and had Stuart close the door behind them.
As the DNI handed his guests their drinks, he introduced them to his assistant, assured them that they could speak freely in front of him, and then asked everyone to sit down.
The den was tastefully decorated with hunting prints and wood paneling. There were brown leather couches with plaid accent pillows, two green club chairs, skirted end tables, a brass coffee table, and a large wooden desk.
Accepting a pad and pen from his assistant, the DNI took his seat and stated, “Stu needs to be home in time to watch the Dog Whisperer, so let’s discuss why we’re here.”
General George Johnson had served in the United States Army with considerable distinction. His outstanding career had begun in Vietnam, where he had received multiple commendations for bravery and gallantry. He went on to lead the First Infantry Division through several conflicts, and was transferred to head the Army’s Intelligence Support Activity. His pragmatic understanding of not only warfare and tactics, but also espionage and diplomatic relations, eventually secured him a spot on the Joint Chiefs of Staff, where he helped advise the Secretary of Defense, the National Security Council, and the President on all matters military. Based on his performance there, he was chosen to run the National Security Agency, before being tapped for his current position as Director of National Intelligence.
McGee had given Ryan the man’s entire background on the drive from Camp Peary. He and Johnson had worked together many times in the Army and had developed a good friendship. When Ryan asked her mentor what favor the DNI owed him, McGee only said, “We both owe each other a few debts that neither of us will ever be able to repay.”
The solemnity with which he spoke told her the debts very likely involved tremendous sacrifice and possibly, human life. She didn’t push for more information.
“As this is Lydia’s baby, so to speak, I think she is the best person to lay it all out,” McGee said, leaning back and giving his protégé the floor.
Ryan gave a brief history of her background. As she did, Johnson’s assistant handed him a copy of her file. But unlike most she had met in the intelligence world, the DNI didn’t attempt to multitask. He set her jacket aside and gave her his undivided attention. That impressed her.
When she was done explaining everything that had happened, she handed him the file Nafi Nasiri had given her. General Johnson didn’t bother to open it. There was no reason to believe it didn’t contain everything the CIA operative had told him it did.
Lydia Ryan had delivered a purely clinical recitation of the facts as they were believed to be known. Now the DNI wanted to know what she thought. What was her gut, her experience, telling her?
“I know Nasiri. I don’t think he or the Jordanians are bluffing.”
“What about this former supervisor of yours back at Langley?” the DNI asked, glancing at his notes. “This Phil Durkin. Could he be bluffing?”
“Absolutely,” McGee interjected. “The guy is a frickin’ weasel.”
The DNI held up his hand and turned his attention to Ryan. “What do you think?”
“Did Durkin shut down the program like he said he did? Maybe. But if he fired everyone else, why keep me? I didn’t screw up as bad as the rest of them, but I certainly made my share of mistakes. They could have easily built a case against me, too,” she stated. “But they didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Maybe because Durkin was interested in me. But if that’s true, why didn’t he try to use it to his advantage? Why not offer to save my career in exchange for sleeping with him? I wouldn’t have done it, of course.”
“Of course not. But it’s still a good question.”
“Which doesn’t have an easy answer.”
The DNI looked at her. “If you had to come up with some sort of explanation for all of this, what would it be?”
“Easy. He never shut that program down. He simply moved it off the books and into the shadows. I got to keep my career with the CIA, just in a different capacity. The other members of my team got to keep their careers, too, but for that to happen, the program had to go full black.”
“But why compartmentalize you off? Why not send you into the shadows with them?”
Ryan shrugged. “I’ve run that through my mind a thousand times. The only thing I can come up with is that it was a pride thing with Durkin. He’d been tasked with bringing the team to heel. As a last-ditch effort, he assigned me to them as the Girl Scout who would get them in line. If I had been fired, it would have been yet another example of his bad judgment.”
The DNI nodded. “Agreed. What bothers me the most, though, is Durkin’s apparent lack of interest in the plot the Jordanians claim to have uncovered. While I don’t like the fact that they’re trying to horse-trade with us intelligence-wise, I understand it. Durkin should, too.”
“Well, sir, if he did in fact shut the team down as he claims and now they have popped back up, it could be a real source of professional embarrassment for him,” Ryan stated, more in an attempt to figure out Durkin’s motivations than to defend him.
“You know what’s even more embarrassing?” the DNI retorted. “Allowing a terrorist attack to happen on American soil because you’re too proud to admit that you screwed up.”
The man was right. Ryan didn’t try to offer any more insights on Durkin.
The DNI tapped his pen against his legal pad. “We have a public trust to live up to. We’re accountable to the American people. It’s our job to keep them and the country safe. We don’t have the luxury of playing chicken in our line of work, not when the stakes are as high as they are. This guy Durkin is either unqualified for his position, or he’s hiding something. Both of which greatly concern me.”
Ryan and McGee knew they shouldn’t speak. The direction the DNI pla
“If word gets back to the CIA director about this, he’s going to want both of your heads on a pike. He’s a real stickler for chain of command. And I don’t blame him,” said the DNI, “but I understand why you wanted to bring it to me. There may, though, be a way around this.”
Turning to his assistant, he then said, “What kind of cha
“What are you thinking?” the assistant replied.
“I’m thinking if we can plug into Nasiri’s boss, or even better the King himself, we’ll not only be able to smoke out whether or not Nasiri is telling us the truth, but we’ll convey back to them how seriously the United States is taking this matter.”
The assistant nodded. “It would also provide you an opportunity to lean on them for more information than what Mr. Nasiri has already provided Ms. Ryan.”
“Agreed,” the DNI said. “Which brings us to the other issue we need to deal with.”
“The destabilization team,” Ryan offered.
General Johnson nodded. “Agree or disagree with the politics, the President has been abundantly clear that he supports the Arab Spring. He has also been adamant that we not influence the outcome. He sees this as an organic, democratic process that must be allowed to ‘bloom,’ as he says.”
McGee shook his head.
“Like I said,” the DNI repeated, “agree or disagree with the President’s position, this is his call. That said, there appear to be two potential things happening here. Either Durkin’s old team has reconstituted and is operating on behalf of someone else, or Durkin and others at the CIA are ru