Wanting for Independence: Chapter 12
A/N: I wouldn't say I'm dealing with writer's block, but things are definitely slowing down in my mind. Any suggestions for where you think this going/things you want to see/things you want for Christmas would be welcome. Probably won't be including many of the Christmas wishes, though.
It wasn't long after Gibbs and McGee ended their call with DiNozzo in MTAC that Dr. David Mitchell, the lead of the AFRICOM division, appeared in the field agent bullpen. A very large man, he appeared slightly out-of-breath from the walk from the elevator to the bullpen as he glanced around the space, his eyes wide enough that the whites were completely visible against his dark skin. "Agents Gibbs and McGee?" he finally managed, his voice thick with an unidentifiable accent.
"That's us," Gibbs replied.
"Dr. David Mitchell," the analyst introduced, offering his hand to shake. McGee accepted; Gibbs didn't bother. "You wanted to talk about Vanessa's work. Is there a place we can go?"
"You have a problem with here?" Gibbs asked, eyebrows raised.
"Well, yes," Dr. Mitchell replied. "What Vanessa was working on was classified top secret. This is not a secured area. We cannot discuss it here. We can go to my office." The analyst area was in the basement, the entire floor a secured classified information facility, complete with a lack of windows and lead-lined walls.
"Or we can stay here," Gibbs countered, his gaze unwavering. Mitchell was either unaware that he should have been intimidated, or just unconcerned, because he showed no signs of budging.
"I will not discuss on-going analysis of intelligence in an unsecured area," he said forcefully. "We can either go to my office or you can remain uninformed."
There was a long and silent staring match between the supervisory field agent and the Africa expert before McGee finally stepped in. "Uh, maybe we should just go downstairs." The words made Gibbs turn that unwavering gaze in his direction, but at the moment, he was a bit beyond caring. He stood from his chair and led the way toward the elevator, not even looking behind him to see if Gibbs and Mitchell were following.
After a tense elevator ride to the basement, Mitchell scanned his ID to gain entrance to the analyst area and led them to the back corner that held the AFRICOM division. "This way," Dr. Mitchell said as he led them past the cubicles where the junior analysts worked and into an office decorated with a map of Tanzania and a Tanzanian flag and brightly colored pictures and statues.
"Vanessa was working on a cache of emails that originated in Kenya," he began as he took a seat behind the desk. "We suspect that the sender of the emails had a connection to Al-Shabaab, but we did not have any hard evidence of this. She was to perform a contact tree to find a connection and query the contents for anything usable."
"And she found evidence of a terrorist attack on the National Mall on the Fourth of July," Gibbs finished impatiently.
"Not exactly," Mitchell countered. "She found a mention of July 4 and extrapolated from there. She had an active imagination. It can be an asset for an analyst, but it could also be a shortcoming."
"So how did she get from there to looking into activities on the Mall?" McGee asked with a frown.
"Mostly wild conjecture," Mitchell said with a sigh. "Vanessa was a good analyst, but she occasionally fell into the trap of all analysts. She wanted to be the one to break something open."
"She was applying to be a field agent," Gibbs commented.
"Yes," Mitchell agreed with a nod. "I have written two separate letters of recommendation for her applications. I felt that she would have made a fine field agent. She was very meticulous and oriented to details. She was only lacking experience. I reminded her to be patient."
"The emails from Kenya," McGee interjected, wondering if it would be possible to get this interview back on track. If it had been on any track to begin with. "What exactly did they say?"
"How is your Swahili?" Mitchell asked in return. McGee frowned.
"Swahili wasn't in Ms. Carter's file," he said slowly.
"She is learning," Mitchell said with a nod. "Was learning," he corrected. "She probably would have been ready to sit for the language exam in another few months."
McGee jotted down that little bit of information as he tried to figure out how to ask the next question. "Why did she suspect that something was being planned for the Mall on the Fourth?"
Mitchell frowned and stood from his chair. "Follow me," he said without explanation. McGee looked over at Gibbs, who showed no interest in getting up, and sighed as he stood to follow Mitchell. He wondered if being so territorial and difficult to work with was part of being a boss, or if it was just part of being a boss in DC. He found himself thinking about Arizona and Harley's question.
Gibbs eventually stood to follow, and the two agents found themselves standing behind Mitchell as he logged into Vanessa Carter's workstation. "This is the program we use for analysis," Mitchell was saying. "She entered the emails in here. This algorithm was developed by the NSA. It looks for common elements, such as—"
"The point, Doc?" Gibbs interrupted.
"Such as any reference to Independence Day, the Fourth of July, and other synonyms for that date," Mitchell continued as if he hadn't heard Gibbs' interruption. "Ninety percent of the time, this is nothing but a mention of a date that has nothing to do with the United States, but it is this that got Vanessa's attention in the first place." He pressed a few buttons, causing a phrase to be highlighted. Although the letters looked familiar, the words meant nothing to McGee, almost as if they were in Swahili. Which they probably were. "This is 'July Fourth' in Swahili." That answered that question. "I reminded her that dates are usually nothing but dates, but she was not satisfied."
"Still not hearing why she went to the Mall," Gibbs said. McGee just rolled his eyes at his boss' impatience.
Again, Mitchell kept talking as if Gibbs weren't, well, as annoying as he was. "These are the five emails with mention of July Fourth," he said, the five phrases now highlighted on the screen. "Using a cryptographic program that incorporates known associates of senders and recipients of emails, she got the phrases 'Washington, DC', 'park', and 'monuments'."
"That's it?" McGee asked with a frown.
"That is how intelligence analysis works," Mitchell said with a shrug. "It is often non-specific. Determining how non-specific is specific enough requires experience in analysis."
"Experience that Vanessa Carter didn't have," McGee commented.
"So why was she out on the Mall on her own?" Gibbs asked.
"She did not believe me when I said that it was likely nothing," Mitchell replied, sounding sad about that fact. "She had recently received another rejection for a position at your Federal Law Enforcement Training Center and was eager to prove herself."
"Eager enough to investigate what she thought was a legitimate threat alone?"
"Yes," Mitchell replied bluntly. "She was that eager."
"The Somalia analysts in Bahrain found evidence that Al-Shabaab has chemical weapons," McGee said thoughtfully, "and an engineer who might be American. How does that fit into what Ms. Carter found?"
Mitchell frowned thoughtfully as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the desk. "I would need to see the intelligence that led to those conclusions," he finally said. "Our email cache was only indirectly related to Al-Shabaab. That is why Vanessa was given it, to see if she could find a connection. The content was not as important as the traffic between people. Even if the intelligence you speak of from Bahrain is sound, which I would have to see to assess, there is no guarantee that it is related to what Vanessa had found."
"I thought that's what intelligence analysis was," McGee replied. "Non-specific? No guarantees?"
Dr. Mitchell frowned at that, as if trying to decide if he was being mocked or not. He wasn't, but McGee could understand the confusion; he got a little acerbic when tired, and he definitely didn't sleep well or long the night before. "It also requires careful analysis of all available pieces of information," the AFRICOM lead finally replied. "Not second-hand information."
"Do you think you could send Ms. Carter's analysis to Bahrain, see if they could make it fit into what they have?" McGee figured it would be easier to do it that way than to try to explain to Dr. Mitchell how and why they had fresh intelligence from Mossad.
"I can do that, but I still do not see what that has to do with her murder," Dr. Mitchell replied. "If you ask me, that was probably just a random act of violence."
"We didn't ask you," Gibbs said bluntly. "Analysis isn't the only thing that takes experience. And when it comes to solving crimes, you have none."
