The Invisible. Andrew Britton

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СКАЧАТЬ more reasonable level. She shifted her steely blue gaze toward the commander in chief. “I mean, look at what’s been happening over the past few weeks. They’ve completely stonewalled us with respect to our missing tourists. We’re talking about twelve law-abiding Americans, people with valid visas who just disappeared into thin air, and they still haven’t let us put a team on the ground.”

      “To make matters worse, we’ve just lost the single most important diplomat in the U.S. government, so breaking the ice is only going to get harder,” Harper weighed in. “And our ambassador is dead, so he’s no good to us, either. Those losses are only going to make it harder to establish a working relationship. At this point, we have to act fast, but we also have to tread carefully if we’re going to get anything done. That’s what diplomacy is all about, and we can’t afford to forget that. We’ll do more harm than good if we storm in there and start making demands.”

      With this contribution out of the way, the focus shifted toward the next speaker, but Harper felt the president’s lingering attention. He knew he’d been blunt, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d overstepped his bounds.

      “Sir, if I could make a suggestion…?”

      Harper looked at the man who’d addressed the president. Owing to the untimely death of the former secretary and Fitzgerald’s subsequent promotion, the post of deputy secretary was currently vacant. That made Elliot Greengrass the second-ranking official at the State Department. The deputy DCI knew Greengrass to be thoughtful, competent—traits he’d demonstrated in his previous roles with the NSC and as the U.S. ambassador to Greece, a position he’d held from 1997 to 2001. Nevertheless, it was unclear how effective the fifty-year-old diplomat would be in the current situation, given his lack of experience on the Asian continent.

      “Of course, Elliot,” Brenneman said. “By all means, let’s hear it.”

      “Sir, I think I should travel to Islamabad to meet with President Musharraf immediately. We’ll work to keep it lowkey, but we really need a diplomatic presence on the ground. And by that, I mean we need an envoy prepared to stay in Pakistan for the duration.”

      The president considered for a moment, then nodded his consent. “I agree. Putting an envoy in place will send a few messages. First, it will show that we’re not afraid to wade back in with both feet, and second, that we intend to play a very active role in the investigation.

      “And that falls to you, Emily,” Brenneman said, shifting his gaze once more. The forty-two-year-old Susskind was, by a slim margin, the youngest person in the room. She was also a Princeton grad, a mother of two, the seventh director of the FBI, and the first woman to hold the title. Her propensity for blunt speech frequently put her at odds with the president and his senior advisors, as did her left-of-center politics, but everyone in the room respected her opinion, as well as her considerable influence on the Hill.

      “As I understand it,” the president continued, “the Bureau has, shall we say, a limited presence in Pakistan.”

      “Unfortunately, that’s putting it lightly, sir. We maintain small offices at the consulates in Lahore, Peshawar, and Karachi, but they’re negligible in terms of manpower. Even the main hub at the embassy in Islamabad is minimally staffed…We have less than fifty agents in the entire country, and that’s after we expanded our legal attaché program in ’99.”

      “Well, we need to change that, and sooner rather than later.” Brenneman set down his pen and studied the FBI director. “Obviously, I’ve already spoken to President Musharraf. He’s assured me that his government is committed to finding whoever was responsible, as well as to the safe recovery of Secretary Fitzgerald. In keeping with this promise, he’s agreed to allow a team of investigators into the country. They’ll be given everything they need as soon as they can get there.”

      Susskind was visibly surprised. “After all the walls he’s put up recently? He changed his mind that fast?”

      The president nodded. “As far as he’s concerned, the severity of this incident takes precedence over any diplomatic squabbling, and it has nothing to do with our missing tourists. That’s a separate issue entirely. According to him, that is.” Brenneman frowned, his forehead creasing thoughtfully. “Personally, I’m not so sure. Anyway, our team will be given full authority to conduct an extensive extraterritorial investigation. In other words, Emily, send your best, because they’re not coming home until the job is done.”

      “I understand, Mr. President.” Susskind was already jotting notes on a legal pad. “I’ll get you the names by midday.”

      “That’s not good enough. By that time they need to be in the air.”

      “Yes, sir…I’ll make it happen.”

      “Good,” Brenneman said. “Next, I want to talk about possible suspects. I realize we’re in the early stages here, but a number of agencies have been looking at one man in particular for the last couple weeks. His name came up in relation to our missing tourists, but given the similarities between those incidents and the abduction of Secretary Fitzgerald, I think he’s worth mentioning. Jeremy, if you wouldn’t mind.”

      Thayer nodded and got to his feet. He left the room for a moment, then returned with a stack of briefing folders. The folders were distributed quickly, and the national security advisor retook his seat.

      “Ladies and gentlemen, what you’re about to see—for those of you who haven’t been made privy to this information—is highly classified. It is not, I repeat, not to be circulated freely within your respective agencies. As it stands…”

      Tuning Thayer out, Harper flipped open the folder. What he saw was the State Department’s file on Amari Saifi. It was the same file he’d helped compile with help from people at State, Langley, and the National Counterterrorism Center in McLean, Virginia. Scanning the documents inside, he saw nothing new, and he would have already been alerted if anything substantial had changed. As a result, his thoughts began to drift as Thayer droned on and on. Before long, he found himself thinking about the way he’d left things with Kealey in Oraefi.

      It still bothered him, which wasn’t entirely a bad thing. In fact, it came as something of a relief to the deputy DCI. It meant he hadn’t resigned himself to the indiscriminate use of the people who worked for him. The people who used to work for him, he reminded himself. Ryan Kealey’s five-year relationship with the CIA had always been hard to define, but there was one constant factor: his involvement always stemmed from some kind of national crisis, save for his first assignment in Syria. And he had always come through. He’d served as a full-time employee in the Operations Directorate for less than six months, none of them concurrently. Most of the time, he was listed as an independent contractor, but even that was rare. It was rare to see his name on paper, anyway. Plausible deniability, as always, was the key factor. Unfortunately, it was lost once a name popped up on any kind of official document, even on something as insignificant as an internal memorandum.

      And that was the smallest threat to a field operative’s anonymity. What had transpired in New York City ten months earlier had garnered worldwide attention, and once Kealey’s role in that incident had been made public, he’d immediately acquired a certain degree of unwanted fame. The exposure had been mostly limited to his name and background, as there weren’t many pictures of him floating around, but needless to say, his days of undercover work had come to a screeching halt. Still, it could have been worse. Kealey had wanted out, anyway, mostly because he wanted to devote himself to Naomi Kharmai’s recovery, and Harper had let them go. Given the sacrifices they had made, it was the least he could do.

      Only that was all in the past, and things had changed. Once СКАЧАТЬ