*for disclaimers, see Part One *

Treason and Old Lace-Part Three

Q-Bureau

Thursday, January 20, 2005

9:00 AM

"Ms. Foster seemed like she was in a hurry yesterday, didn't she?" Amanda asked Lee. She sat at her desk, her fingers tapping the computer keys, her attention focused on the screen in front of her."I mean, maybe she really did have an appointment, but she seemed a little anxious."

"I don't know," Lee replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "She seemed pretty genuine— answered everything we asked her—personally I'd be surprised if she had any role in this."

"Yeah," Amanda let out her breath in a sigh, shaking her head. "You're probably right—I guess I'm just hoping that this doesn't turn out to be another dead end. This hasn't exactly been our most successful case, you know."

"Hey." Putting down his cup of coffee Lee walked over to his wife, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Don't think like that—we're going to get to the bottom of this, I promise."

"And shut Karbala down for good." Amanda agreed. She reached up to give Lee's hand a brief squeeze before turning back to the computer. "Speaking of other subjects, your daughter was interrogating me about birthday presents last night."

"She's your daughter too, you know," Lee said.

Amanda smiled. "Not when she interrogates me like that. Anyway, even if I'd wanted to tell her I couldn't—we still don't know."

"A-man-da—"

"We do need to make up our minds."

"Well I'll tell you one thing—we're not getting her a car, at least not yet." Lee ran one hand back through his hair. "I swear, she's got this idea that as soon as she gets her license, she's going off for a night on to the town or something—and that is not going to happen."

"Lee, relax," Amanda told him. "She knows about the restrictions on teen drivers—we went over that last month. She can't even have more than one teen passenger in the car until she's held a license for a year. And I agree—Jenna's not ready for her own car just yet—not at sixteen."

Sixteen, Lee thought—a high school junior. And next year she'd be a senior, graduating high school—and then college— and after that—

'She's growing up—growing into a beautiful young woman.' The thought caused a lump to rise in his throat. Amanda was looking at him, waiting for him to speak.

"There's still a question of what we do get her." He said aloud.

"I was thinking about that." Amanda's voice brought him back to the present. "Maybe we could all chip in and get her a nice laptop. It would certainly help with her schoolwork—we could even get her a carrying case."

"Sounds good, yeah." Lee agreed. "We'll go to Best Buy this weekend and look at what they have. Any progress with Mrs. Murphy yet?"

"I think so," Amanda said. "The social she gave Soldier's Relief checked out as genuine. Angela Maxwell, born August 19, 1934 in Portsmouth, Virginia. No criminal history—nothing that would show up as suspicious on a preliminary check."

"So there really is an Angela Maxwell?" Lee asked.

"Well there was—I checked out the Social Security Death Index." Amanda's finger pointed at the screen. "Angela Maxwell—born the same date—except that the real Angela Maxwell died at Dixie Hospital in Hampton, Virginia on April 12, 1936. No one checked."

"That old trick," Lee said. "So we can safely establish that Alice Murphy and Angela Maxwell are probably the same person."

Amanda nodded. "That would be my guess." Even the similarities in the names fit—one of the first rules Amanda had learned about aliases was to pick something close to your real name—it was easier to remember and you were less likely to blow your cover. "Now all we have to do is prove it."

Prove it and stop it, she thought to herself. Even with all this they still had so far to go.

At that moment the phone rang—Lee pressed the button for the speaker phone. "Scarecrow here," he said.

"There's been a security breach at Andrews." Billy's voice crackled slightly as it came over the speaker. "General Morrison contacted us—he thinks that it might be connected to the information being leaked."

Connected—Lee and Amanda exchanged glances. "What kind of breach?" Lee asked.

"A man posing as a janitor was caught trying to lift a hard drive and several sensitive documents," Billy replied. "I'd like for you and Amanda to go over there and check it out, Scarecrow—question him if you can."

"We're on our way, sir." Amanda said.

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Andrews AFB

10:00 AM

"Thank you for coming so promptly," General Morrison said. "Luckily we managed to apprehend him before he did any damage."

"What kind of stuff was he trying to steal?" Lee asked.

"A hard drive and a few documents that he'd found in a wastepaper basket," the general replied. "From the looks of things he was just basically grabbing anything he could get his hands on."

Anything he could get his hands on, Amanda thought—it didn't sound like it was something organized—a random fishing expedition, maybe? "You said that he came onto the base by pretending to be one of the cleaning staff," she said. "Did he have any kind of ID with him?"

The general shook his head. "No—and actually that's not how he got on base. That's just what he told the MP who apprehended him."

This was becoming more puzzling by the second. Lee and Amanda exchanged a glance. "How exactly did he get on the base, General?" Lee asked.

General Morrison hesitated, not meeting their gaze directly. "I hate to say it, but it appears that he just walked right in."

"Walked in?" Amanda repeated. "Is that possible?"

"There's a small security break at the front gate," the general said. "Between the graveyard and the morning shift. Usually it's just a question of a minute or so but occasionally it's been as long as five minutes. We've been trying to fix that."

"A minute or two would be all anyone would need." Lee said. This wasn't the first time this kind of thing had happened either—that someone unauthorized had gotten on a military base—he remembered reading about a case where a man had actually managed to pass himself off as base personnel for at least a month or more—even going so far as to secure on-base housing. "What about the documents and the hard drive?" He asked the general. "Aren't there measures in place to make sure those things are protected?"

The general gave a nod. "Documents are supposed to be shredded and computers are to be shut down and secured at all times. Unfortunately we've had civilian temp workers and they don't always follow the rules. We're not proud of this, believe me, but we are trying to crack down on it." His fist clenched. "When this gets leaked out to the press—and it will—we'll look like a bunch of goddamned idiots. And who knows, maybe we deserve it."

"Have you tried to question the suspect?" Amanda asked.

"Of course we have," the general replied. "We got as far as his name and social security number—when we tried to ask him what he was doing on base he clammed up—said that he wouldn't say another word and that he wanted his parents."

Lee raised his eyebrows. "His parents?"

"I guess I didn't explain," the general said. "The suspect is an eighteen-year-old kid. His name is Bernard Clancy."

Eighteen. Amanda remembered when her own sons were that age. Had this been some kind of a prank or dare that had simply gone wrong? "Why do you think this is connected to Major Sterns and our case?" She asked.

"Because the major is the one who brought these security concerns to our attention a month or so back," the general told them. "The breaks at the front gate, unshredded documents and unsecured computers—it's practically word for word. And maybe it is just a coincidence, but with everything else that's going on, I just want to be sure."

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"Do you really think there's anything to this?" Amanda asked Lee as they walked across base towards the guard station where Clancy was being held. "It doesn't sound like much to me."

"Frankly, not to me either," Lee admitted. "But we still have to follow it up—see what we can get out of him."

"Find out where he got his information from," Amanda replied. "Who knows—maybe we'll get lucky."

Lee smiled, his hand reaching out to grasp hers. "That's the spirit, Mrs. Stetson. Shall we?"

Amanda smiled back. "Lead the way, Mr. Stetson."

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"Who are you?" Bernard Clancy squeaked as they entered the guard station. He was a tall, thin kid—eyes staring out at them from behind a pair of thick spectacles. "I said that I don't want to talk to you people."

The general hadn't been exaggerating, Lee thought—this guy didn't look much older than Jenna. How the hell had a kid this age gotten mixed up in something like this? He couldn't think about now, though—right now he had to focus on getting the information he needed.

"Oh, I think you do want to talk to us." Slowly Lee walked towards Bernard Clancy. "If you want to get out of here, I think you'll tell us exactly what you need to know." He leaned over him and boy drew back slightly, his eyes wide with fright. "Won't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bernard said. "And I'm not going to tell you anything—I have my rights!"

"Don't tell me about your rights." Lee's voice rose slightly. "You've broken onto an air force base and tried to steal classified information. Do you realize what a serious offense that is? Under the Patriot Act—"

"Wait a minute—the Patriot Act?" Bernard's voice quavered. "I'm not a terrorist or something—you can't get me under that—you can't."

"Oh, you think we can't, kid?" Lee watched as the boy's face turned pale. "You really want to bet on that?"

"Lee, please." Amanda's voice broke in. Lee stepped back and she took a seat next to Bernard. "Listen, we're not trying to frighten you."

"Yeah, well you could've fooled me," Bernard replied.

"All we'd like to know is what you were doing here and how you learned to get onto the base," Amanda told him. "That's all we need to know." Bernard fell silent, staring down at the table. "Bernard," Amanda continued. "We really would like to help you, but first we need you to help us. Can you do that?"

More silence. Finally the boy looked up at Amanda.

"I'll tell you what you want to know," he said.

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"A fraternity prank?" the general repeated, his voice thick with disbelief. "That's what this was?"

"That's what he said," Lee replied. "He told us he's rushing Theta Pi at Georgetown and they dared him to break onto a military base and steal anything he could find."

"Well I'll be damned." The general shook his head. "What happened to things like panty raids? It does explain why it was so random, though. Did he say anything about how he figured out how to break in? Where he got the information from?"

Amanda hesitated. "Actually, sir, he told us that he just hid and waited until the coast was clear—he didn't have any information about base security."

"Then how did he know where to find the documents and the hard drive?" the general asked.

"Actually he didn't know," Lee said. "From the looks of things he simply went to the nearest unsecured building and took what he could find."

The general let out a sigh as he lowered himself onto his chair. "Somehow I guess we should have seen this coming. We've known about these security breaches for a while now—guess this is our wake-up call."

"You do have some security issues to deal with," Amanda told him. "This could've been something much worse."

"Believe me, we're going to," the general replied. "I'll make sure every building is secured and the gate is guarded at all times—hell, I'll do it myself if I have to." He paused briefly. "There still is the question of the leak, however—that is very real."

"We're still looking into that, sir," Amanda said.

"Very good." The general gave a nod. "Hopefully we'll find something quickly—like I said before, I don't think we're going to be able to hold off formal proceedings for too much longer."

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"I hope they don't come down too hard on him," Amanda said.

Lee glanced over at his wife in surprise. "Huh? Come down too hard on who?"

"Bernard Clancy. I just hope that they aren't too hard on him, that's all. He really didn't mean to do any harm."

"Amanda, whether he meant to do any harm or not is irrelevant." Lee said as he pulled up to a stoplight. It had started to rain now, fat droplets hitting the windshield. He turned the wipers on. "What he did was a federal offense—the law's not going to look at what he meant to do."

"Yeah, but you saw him," Amanda replied. "He wasn't some criminal—he was just a kid who did this because he wanted to be accepted. Lee, that could've been Phillip or Jamie—even Jenna."

The light changed to green and Lee made a left onto Dower House Road. "Personally I would hope that they would have a little more sense than to pull a stunt like that." At least he hoped that they would have—though he remembered the stuff he'd had been up to at that age—most of the stuff that he'd like to forget.

"I would hope they would too, but you know what I mean." Amanda looked at him as she spoke. "Because of this one little mistake that kid could end up with a permanent criminal record that will follow him around for the rest of his life."

"Yeah, I know what you're saying." Lee's hand reached over, giving her hand a brief squeeze. "Listen—he has no priors and there was no malicious intent—chances are he'll just get probation or something. Like you said, he's basically a good kid."

"I hope so," Amanda said quietly. "The question is, where do we go from here?"

"It might be worthwhile to pay Major Sterns a little visit," Lee told her. "See what we can find out about him—and Estelle as well."

"And if he doesn't talk to us willingly?"

"Well, then a little surveillance might be in order. One way or another, Amanda—we're going to get to the bottom of this."

"We will—one way or another." Amanda spoke the words, hoping she sounded a lot more confident than she felt.

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6211 Hidden Canyon Rd, Centreville, VA

2:00 PM

"Tell me—tell me what I need to know."

The woman's voice penetrated Mark's consciousness, piercing eyes looking deep into his own. He wanted to look away but the hand that cupped his chin didn't allow for any movement.

"Tell me," she repeated.

'I can't do it.' He thought the words to himself. 'Can't tell her—I won't tell her.' But even as these thoughts raced through his brain he could hear his own voice speaking the words—telling her everything—everything that she wanted to know—the words poured forth and he couldn't seem to stop them.

"Tell me more." Her face drew closer to his and at the same time it seemed to grow larger—blocking out everything else until it was only her.

A face he recognized….

"No!"

Mark Sterns shouted the word aloud as he sat up on the sofa, his heart thudding against his chest. His breathing slowed as he looked around the room, taking in the familiar objects. Sunlight spilled in through the lace curtains, creating patterns on the opposite wall.

Donna would've loved this room—she always loved the natural sunlight. The large front windows were one of the reasons that he'd bought this place to begin with.

'Just a dream,' he told himself firmly, trying to shake the images from his mind. 'Nothing else.' His eyes fell on the clock. Two in the afternoon. Strange—he didn't usually nap during the day. Two teacups lay in front of him on the table, one turned on its side, brown liquid seeping out.

Had company been here? Try as he might, Mark couldn't quite remember.

The clang of the doorbell jolted him out of his thoughts. "Just a minute," he called out. "I'm coming." Hastily he righted the spilled cup. Grabbing both, he took them into the kitchen and deposited them into the sink. The doorbell rang again.

"This had better be important," he muttered under his breath. He walked to the front door and unlocked it, pulling it open. A couple stood on his doorstep—a slender woman with dark hair and a taller man with graying hair.

"Major Sterns?" The man said.

"Yes, that's who I am," Mark replied. "What's all this about?"

"Lee and Amanda Stetson," The woman said, pulling her ID out of her pocket—the man did the same. "We'd like to have a word with you."

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"I know what you're saying." Mark told them as he came into the front room with coffee on a tray, handing a cup to both Lee and Amanda before placing the tray on the coffee table. "I've spoken to the colonel and I've heard it from the general himself, and I'm gonna tell you the same thing that I told them—this is bull."

"Secrets have been getting out though," Lee said. "You can't deny that."

"No, I can't deny it." The major took a seat in the armchair facing them. "I've seen the evidence with my own eyes. But I'm telling you right now that I am not the leak."

"How do you explain the money that's been placed in your account?" Amanda asked him.

"I don't." He snapped out the words. "I was always bad with money—my wife Donna—she handled all that for me—I don't know. Maybe I forgot how much I had in there. That's possible, isn't it?"

"Major—" Lee began, but Mark held up his hand.

"No," he said. "I don't want to hear anymore. I'm not a traitor and that's all I'm going to say."

Denial, Amanda thought. She recalled how the colonel had been—defensive and on edge—she was seeing all the same signs in the Major. This had to be Mrs. Murphy's work—the signs were unmistakable.

"Major, it's very possible that you're not doing this willingly," she said. "You might be giving secrets without being aware of it."

"Just what are you saying?" the major asked her.

Amanda drew in a deep breath. "It's possible that you're being drugged."

The major laughed disbelievingly. "By who?" He asked. "Estelle, perhaps? The colonel implied the same thing."

"That is a possibility," Lee replied. "If you'd just listen—"

"No," the major said. "You listen. Estelle is trustworthy. She belongs to a reputable organization and she helps me out. I don't believe that she would ever betray me. And I'd know if I was being drugged."

"Are you sure?" Amanda leaned forward as she spoke. "Think back. Have there been times recently when you've had memory blackouts or strange dreams? Falling asleep at strange times and not remembering what happened before?"

Mark just stared at her, his eyes wide. For one moment Amanda thought he might say something, but then he shook his head.

"No," he said. "Nothing like that—I'd know."

This wasn't going anywhere—Lee and Amanda exchanged glances and Amanda rose to her feet.

"If you'll excuse me," she said. "I'll just get a spoon to stir my coffee. Be right back."

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She still hated this part of the job sometimes, Amanda thought as she placed the small flat disc underneath the table, making sure that it was firmly stuck to the underside before removing her hand. Lying and sneaking around—unfortunately it was sometimes necessary. The bug should pick up anything said in the den, kitchen or front room—that's what Leatherneck had told her. It was the most powerful bug the Agency had. For good measure she placed a second bug underneath the cabinet, right near the den.

It wasn't like she had a choice, she reasoned. At this point it was obvious that the major wouldn't help them voluntarily.

Now what had she come in here for? A spoon, that was it. Amanda grabbed one from the drainer and that's when she saw them. The teacups in the sink.

That tea—on impulse she picked one of the cups up and brought it to her nose. The pungent odor assaulted her nose, causing her eyes to water—the same smell that had been in one of the colonel's teacups. Grabbing a Ziploc bag from a box on the counter she dropped the cup inside and sealed the bag, placing it in her purse. She'd drop it off at the lab for testing later on.

"Find what you need?"

Amanda turned around to see the Major standing in the doorway, staring at her.

"Yes, I did," she held up the spoon. "I'm sorry it took me so long to find it."

"No problem." He smiled faintly. "I'm still getting organized myself, I'm afraid. Donna used to take care of a lot of this stuff for me."

"Was she your wife?" Amanda asked.

The major nodded. "Passed away three years ago." He ran a hand back through his hair. "It seems silly, I know—after all this time you think I'd have gotten used to living without her, but—" his voice trailed off. "But I'm afraid that I haven't."

"It can be hard," Amanda replied. "You loved her very much."

"I did, yeah," he said. "That's why I really appreciate what Estelle's been doing for me lately—it's helped me a lot—you don't know how much." A pause. "I'm sorry if I seemed defensive out there—you're just doing your job, after all."

"Believe me, I understand," Amanda said. "And if there's anything at all you can tell us, it would help a great deal."

For a few moments the major stared at her—Amanda had the same feeling that she'd had back in the living room—that there was something he wanted to tell her. Finally he spoke.

"We should get back in the living room—your husband might start to wonder where we are."

Without another word he turned and strode out of the kitchen.

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"Did you plant the bugs?" Lee asked as he slowly pulled out of the major's driveway.

Amanda nodded. "One under the table and one underneath the countertop—hopefully those will be able to tell us something. And look at this." Unzipping her purse she pulled out the Ziploc bag with the teacup inside. "It smelled the same as the colonel's—I'm going to have the lab analyze it."

"Good idea," Lee replied. "Chances are that it's the same substance."

"Or something similar," Amanda said. "It was funny—I get the feeling that he wanted to tell me something but he was holding back."

"Chances are he's been having the same issues that the colonel was. Memory blackouts, falling asleep—all the things you were talking about." Lee made a left onto Blueridge View Drive. "He's probably even suspicious about the money in his account. It's just hard for him to admit it, that's all." He remembered his uncle—the pain and betrayal he'd seen his eyes when he discovered that he'd been duped—that would be a hard thing for anyone to acknowledge.

"Hopefully we'll be able to put a stop to this before it goes any further—before anyone else gets hurt," Amanda spoke quietly. "What's our next step?"

"Get this to the lab," Lee said. "With that and what the bug tells us, hopefully we'll be able to crack this wide open."

TBC