Parallelogram : Day Two : Chapter 69
Five Days, Eight Hours, Forty-Six Minutes
"You have to understand," Olga began, lifting her eyes from the wealth of classified materials spread out on the table in front of her, "that Richard DeMarco is hardly your garden variety terrorist. He's made an exceptional career out of committing some of the most vile, most vicious, most deadly deeds in the history of terrorism. He has done so, I might add, in a far considerably shorter period of time than his rivals." She pulled up a piece of paper and read from it. "Hassan al Durabi has been a subject of covert surveillance for ten years, due to his association with extreme militant groups, but his effectiveness has been seriously curtailed due to the fact that the U.S. has kept him above ground, we've kept him on our radar screens. As a result, he's virtually unheard of throughout the War on Terror. He's a non-entity. The White House recently termed him a 'negligible threat.'" She set aside the page she had been perusing and, instead, picked up a thick binder of statistics. "By contrast, DeMarco appears to have been successful in raising his performance. With each new campaign of terror, he tries to significantly outperform his last attack, and he has done so consistently. Granted, he did drop below our radar for the last few years, but it would appear that he accomplished this by disappearing. In fact, the CIA had him classified as 'missing in action' on their last three global threat matrix reports."
Stoddard had taken a chair at the head of the table, choosing to sit next to President Campbell. "Dr. Vukavitch, if what you're saying is true, then what is DeMarco doing out in so public a fashion today? In the last forty-eight hours, it would seem that he's betrayed every thought – every strategy – every tactic that forced him to drop off our radar in favor of ... what? Becoming a national figure once more?" He shook his head. "No. I've read everything that the Pentagon has provided – through the Joint Chiefs – on the current nature of terror. These men and women who perform these despicable acts? They don't do this out of some passing fancy to get quality face time on the news networks, despite what media pundits would have you believe. More and more, they're doing it simply because they want to show you, they want to show me, they want to show the average American that they can do these things." He leaned back. "When you strike terror into the President, you gamble that the military response may, in fact, wipe out your ability to deliver terror. However, when you strike terror into the heart of the average American, all of a sudden you're in a far more lucrative position to manipulate the minds of those folks. The average American doesn't want to live in a country where going to the grocery store might very well mean exposing your family to some biological agent. The average American doesn't want to live in a country where he sacrifices his freedoms for the sake of capturing a possible terrorist at some wayward airport checkpoint. As a result, it's the Americans who change their ways, and that only gives the terrorist more power."
"That argument is little more than academic posturing, chief," Mentnor chimed in. "There's no way for any person in this room to know what the response will be. We can only support the theories that we've chosen to believe ... for whatever the reasons. I think what Dr. Vukavitch is speaking about is DeMarco's sudden rise back to a position of prominence in the American intelligence community. That doesn't happen overnight, and certainly it doesn't happen quickly. As all of us know, nothing happens quickly in this town ... unless you've provided assistance that all of us have overlooked."
"How do you mean?" Campbell asked.
"Face the facts," Parker challenged. He was now seated at the table – once again resting between Talmadge and Mentnor. "Somehow, Richard DeMarco gained access to our country, despite the fact that he's on every security watchlist distributed to every airline that sponsors flights in and out of the United States. I think we need to start with how that happens ... and, unless I miss my guess, we're going to establish a link back to Senator Pendley."
"Well," Stoddard replied, "if that's all we're considering, then I can provide you with a relatively trouble-free scenario. The senator sits on one of the ranking Senate Intelligence Committees. Certainly, if we're considering any possible avenue for these two names to be linked, then there's the most glaring possibility. The Senate lists – once they are reviewed by the proper authorities and declassified – are released to the Department of Homeland Security as well as the Department of Transportation. Now, if DeMarco's name appeared on the HomSec watchlists but it didn't appear on the Senate Intelligence Committee, then it would stand to reason that the name might be removed until the threat could be more fully established." He shrugged. "The ACLU is breathing down our necks on this subject. It really wouldn't be that difficult to imagine a scenario wherein one was dropped for fear of controversy."
"Let's be clear about this," Talmadge interrupted. "Could Senator Pendley put out a demand to national security that ordered DeMarco's name be removed from any of our national watchlists?"
"Well ..."
Stoddard thought about his original answers before concluding, "It would stand to reason that, yes, the senator could strongly encourage any representative to remove Richard DeMarco's name from an alert list ... but my next question would have to be what was his intent by doing so?"
"There's a link," Mentnor explained. "That's all we're trying to establish."
"A link doesn't rise to the level of committing a provable offense, though, doctor," Stoddard countered. "There would have to be more to this than that."
Shuffling through her papers, Olga tried, "Chief, there's a wealth of evidence to support the contention of Pendley's vast travel throughout Europe, Asia, and some of the less-friendly parts of the Middle East. Who's to say that Pendley hadn't met DeMarco? Who's to say that the two haven't been operating under secrecy for a number of years? DeMarco's effectiveness as a terrorist is uncanny. One might say it's almost unreal. A reasonable person could conclude that DeMarco was receiving perfect intelligence from a Washington source in order to know which American interests to attack. His strikes have been swift ... so swift that local security was crippled to response in any substantive way. Isn't it safe to assume that someone within the Washington elite – perhaps Senator Pendley – could be DeMarco's contact? Can't we accept the proposition that Pendley has been providing DeMarco with the information necessary to achieve these results for the mutual gain?"
"That would take a bold leap ... one I certainly would not feel comfortable making unless there were more data to support such a connection." The chief shifted in his chair. "Right now, we're men and women sitting around in a closed room speculating on the nature of intelligence, on where it came from, on whose hands it passed through to quite possible get to DeMarco. Sure, he might be the most cunning bastard we've come up against in the War on Terror ... or he might be the benefactor of dumb luck. There's just no way to make a conclusion."
"We're not looking for conclusions, chief," Parker offered. "We're looking for connections. If we can find enough of the dots to connect them, the conclusion will be clear as day."
With a sniff of condescension, Stoddard replied, "That isn't how policy is reviewed and administered within these hallowed walls, Frank. That method may work for a single BackStep, but it isn't going to inspire other nations to follow us into what may be mankind's last stand."
"Then forget about those other countries."
"Forget about our alliances?"
"Until we know what it is we're fighting," Parker argued, "doesn't it stand to reason that we duke this one out old style? Fist to fist? Stand firm on our own ground. Let's get this guy – DeMarco – before anything he does impacts our need to re-evaluate foreign policy. That's the only way to win on our terms."
Stoddard shook his head. "Politics isn't always about winning."
"In the campaign season, it certainly is," Mentnor exclaimed. "It's about winning at all costs. Don't delude yourselves into thinking that people like Arthur Pendley or Richard DeMarco can be reasoned with, or you may find that there are more definitions for reason than you ever cared to dream."
Rising from his chair, the President held up his hands, signaling an end to all hostilities at the table.
"This much I understand," Campbell said, "so let's go with what we know. Pendley and DeMarco are linked. I'm quite certain that, once our intelligence comes through, we'll show the connection. Perhaps it will take the shape of intercepted letters. Perhaps it'll be nothing more than a few errant cellular telephone calls. In any event, DeMarco rode a plane from Paris to the United States, and, despite the fact that his name should have been on a 'no fly' list, he was allowed to fly. That means that someone – a ranking official within the United States government – allowed that to happen. For the sake of argument, let's assume that DeMarco's fairy godmother is Pendley. I can accept it for the purposes of debate because, in any moment, that sonuvabitch will be calling here wanting to know what I intend to do about turning over control of our government to him. Let's assume DeMarco and Pendley are working together. What I don't understand is ... why? Is DeMarco using Pendley, or is it vice versa? If they're cooperating, then they must be cooperating for a reason, and I'd like to know what that is."
"Sir?"
From her seat at the table, Olga Vukavitch sat with a raised hand.
"Yes, doctor?"
"It is only a theory," she began, "but I think it's entirely credible to believe that the senator and the terrorist have met before."
Campbell crossed his arms. "What makes you say that?"
Rifling through her papers, she brought out two sheets and set them in front of her, side-by-side.
"I wasn't quite certain of what to make of this earlier, when I first happened across it," she said, "but I think – if we're operating on the theory that these two men know one another – that we need to consider the facts." She placed a hand on one page. "Here, I have a listing of the senator's travel itinerary through the Middle East. On a recent proposal-for-peace tour, he visited Israel, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and he met with several other state leaders at an undisclosed neutral location somewhere within Egypt." Next, she placed a hand on the second page. "Here, I have a listing of intelligence sightings linked to American operatives sighting – not confirmed – the presense of Richard DeMarco in those same countries. Now, you'll see that both men were allegedly in the same location on at least five occasions over a period of three months. One time? That would've been acceptable. Two times? That would've been a coincidence. Five times? Sir, I think we have to conclude that they're working together ... but I don't think it's safe to conclude that they believe that they're working on the same goal."
"What goal could DeMarco have, Olga?" Talmadge asked, interested in the discovery she had made.
"I don't know."
"What do you think, doctor?" the President pressed her further.
She shifted in her chair. "I know that we're not really interested in theories – at least, not at this point – but it would appear that we have very little hard intelligence to go on, sir."
"Then tell me your theory."
She stared at the small mountain of paperwork. Glancing to her right, she found Michelson's dark eyes, and she realized he was encouraging her to say whatever it was that was on her mind. She felt it her duty, both to herself and to the man she loved.
"Sir," she began, "I think there's the distinct possibility – however remote – that Richard DeMarco is Arthur Pendley's son."
END of Chapter 69
