Page 3
“That would be next to impossible to accomplish.” I can’t stop myself from interrupting. “The US government has measures in place to protect GPS infrastructure and can selectively deny or degrade signals if needed.”
“We didn’t consider the threat to be high risk either, but two days ago, security at a ground control station in Nebraska was taken out by a sniper. Again, it appears these are tests to prepare for a full-scale attack,” Ryan says.
“Chat boards have been whispering about EMP attacks for years,” I say, skeptical that this is any more than fear-mongering propaganda.
Homeland Security monitors the threat. At the CIA, we worked with Homeland Security on threat assessment, as an EMP attack would have a global impact.
“True,” Ryan agrees. “Our assignment is to determine who is behind the recent attacks. Global tensions and concerns are rising. Russia and China are obvious suspects, but they deny culpability.”
They always deny culpability.
Last night, during dinner with Luke, our discussion circled world events and risks. All roads lead to Russia. That’s what Luke said.
I’m fairly certain he’s working on this project. I’ve seen him enter and exit the conference room. Is that why he kept talking about world news last night? He couldn’t get his mind off work. I can commiserate.
“Intelligence services across the world, the CIA included, are analyzing involvement from an opposing country. Project Unity has tasked Arrow with gaining intel on alternate possibilities.
“We have intercepted messages and threats from someone identifying as Prophet. There are no known groups or countries that identify as that name, and that has fostered a belief in the intelligence community that we might be dealing with one person or a small group,” Ryan concludes.
The screen on the back wall lights up, and a list of names in black font on a white background show. I fumble for my glasses.
With my glasses on, I scan the list, and my breathing slows and skin cools. Sophia pulling me aside before bringing me in here makes more sense now.
Amir Nooyi
Geoff Mansueto
Jiang Tu
Paola Droga
William Pearson
Halston Moore
Dorian Moore
I blink rapidly, zeroing in on the last two listed names. They’re all well-connected multibillionaires. An investigation into any of these men would require a covert approach. Dorian and Halston, his father, are the only two Americans on the list.
Rumors about a cabal of powerful men pulling strings have existed for decades. We’d be better off if such a cabal existed, as the truth is worse—no one is in control.
I recently debriefed an asset Arrow helped secure overseas. He’d been working deep undercover, investigating the syndicate, an alliance of powerful men—the men listed on the screen.
“Those listed are all part of a global alliance that has recently fractured and, as such, are persons of interest,” Ryan continues. “One theory is that one, or several, of these men is behind the plan and, possibly, identifying as Prophet.
“MI5, the British secret service, is investigating Amir Nooyi.
“Geoff Mansueto is a biotech engineer and a high-profile owner of Streamline Media. He resides in Australia, and ASIO, the Australian secret service, is monitoring him.
“Jiang Tu, a Chinese business magnate, went missing about two months ago. Sources say he’s being held by Xi against his will. If this is correct, he’s not a party to this.
“William Pearson, the CEO of Brookline, is Canadian. We’re working jointly with CSIS, Canadian intelligence, to assess the likelihood of his involvement.
“Halston and Dorian Moore are Americans. They currently reside in a compound in Colorado.” The black screen on the wall flickers to display satellite imagery of wooded mountains.
“This is Halston Moore’s compound in Colorado.
He’s a founding member of the fractured alliance.
His compound includes eight hundred acres of heavily wooded land.
He’s steadily increased security over the years. ”
Haltson Moore, Dorian’s father, is an eccentric billionaire and possesses agoraphobic tendencies. He’s not on the CIA watch list, or at least he wasn’t the last time I checked.
“The Moores have the contacts and the means to orchestrate the multipronged threat we are witnessing.” Ryan pointedly looks at me. “Dorian Moore’s name is also being floated as a replacement for chief of staff.”
Halston always wanted his son to enter politics. “Conklin is stepping down?”
“Those are the rumors. It gives our investigation into the Moore men more weight, and a greater requirement for secrecy.”
“If an official government body investigates, it could be seen as playing politics,” I state.
“Precisely,” Ryan confirms.
“Caroline, you were married to Dorian Moore. What can you tell us about him?” Sophia asks, voice low, as if utilizing a low volume makes the question less intrusive.
When we went through The Farm together, I wasn’t the only candidate with a failed marriage, but I was the only well-known person in our class.
I entered the class with my maiden name and never spoke of Dorian Moore, but reverting my name did nothing to diminish the class’s awareness.
It took years before second glances and whispers became rare occurrences.
Giving me a heads-up was the right thing for Sophia to do. Otherwise, my reaction might have been overwhelmingly defensive.
But she did give me a heads-up, and this isn’t personal.
I clear my throat and address the question.
“Halston Moore doesn’t have a military background, and while he’s politically engaged, he’s a both-sideser, meaning he donates to any party that can benefit his businesses.
In most elections, he donates to both candidates to ensure he has a seat at the table, no matter who wins, and he has done this for decades.
He’s invested in the government as it exists today.
In his early nineties, Halston Moore doesn’t fit the profile of a terrorist.” The temptation to shrink beneath Ryan’s stern gaze threatens to unnerve me, but I sit straighter in my seat.
The intel I possess is only valuable if I share it.
“If you are asking my opinion, he strikes me as a highly unlikely participant in a plan against the United States.”
“And his son?” Ryan asks.
Brown eyes rimmed in gold flash, dark wavy hair, and a distinct jaw line set with determination and drive flicker.
“A reliable source claims Dorian Moore is the mastermind. His travel records support the claim,” Sophia says.
Dorian is many things, but a terrorist isn’t one of them. That wouldn’t change over time. The source is wrong.
“He’s a pacifist,” I say. “Is there any evidence, other than this one source, that ties…” I can’t continue. The accusation is ludicrous.
“He has motive,” Ryan says. “If you buy into uncertainty leading to additional government contracts for his company.”
That’s weak. They’re off. Dorian inherited wealth. Money doesn’t motivate him.
“A member of the Five Eyes located a detailed plan to disable GPS systems,” Sophia says.
Formed after World War II, the Five Eyes is an intelligence alliance comprising Australia, Canada, New Zealand, the United Kingdom, and the United States.
“The plan includes broadcasting powerful signals to overwhelm GPS receivers and transmit false GPS signals to deceive receivers. When we reviewed who within the United States possessed those resources and technological capabilities… well, it’s a short list.”
I reread the list of names.
“Dorian Moore owns a satellite business,” I say, trying to remember the details. He’d been excited about the concept when we were together. Given his wealth, his businesses grew quickly.
“They own more satellites than any country in the world,” Ryan says, which corroborates the business article I read.
“Leasing satellites to countries is a significant source of revenue. All the more reason Dorian wouldn’t be a part of an EMP attack that destroys satellites.” My gaze falls on Sophia. She must see that this is a preposterous theory. Is that why she asked me in here? To back her position?
“They stand to profit handsomely if the US is forced to lease satellites post-attack,” Ryan says.
Trevor taps the table and shifts in his seat. His expression is grim. “We’ve analyzed the compound. If we could find a way in, we could set up surveillance and determine if he’s a threat.”
“That would be against the law,” I say, stating the obvious.
“That’s why they hired us,” Trevor answers matter-of-factly. His tone isn’t mean, but his comment puts me in my place. “If I’m hearing you correctly, you don’t believe it’s him. Unfortunately, we need proof of his innocence or guilt. That’s our assignment. How familiar are you with the compound?”
“Not very,” I admit. “It’s been years.”
They’re calling it a compound, but I remember a luxurious mountain home near Telluride.
“Do you remember if they outsource security? We considered creating an electrical issue and sending in our utility men, but they’ve got backup generators. It’s not an ideal plan.”
“Mr. Moore, Dorian’s father, Halston, is a highly suspicious individual.
Even if you could get a utility worker on the property, they wouldn’t be left alone.
He did deep background checks on his cleaning service.
Mr. Moore has friends on the intelligence committee, and he’s heard stories.
It’s something he used to talk about. He employs former Secret Service on his security team, and no, he doesn’t outsource. ”
Ryan nods, satisfied with my answer.
“What kind of surveillance are you planning?” I ask Trevor. “Physical? Electronic? Computer?” Social media surveillance would be pointless. If he has a presence, a PR agency is behind it.
“All of the above. We’d like to get someone into his office, or offices, to plant cameras, or at the very least, microphones. Nothing we obtain could be used in court, but if he’s involved?—”
“You’ll know better where to look to gain evidence,” I say before he can finish his thought. “And I assume you can’t tap his phones?”
“On a typical American citizen, it could be easily done. But with the Moores, any communication we access on one of their phones can safely be assumed they’re okay with being public,” Sophia says.
She’s probably right. They’re hyperaware of taps.
“We aren’t looking to build a case for prosecution,” Trevor says. “We’re looking to stop them.”
“Our aim is to dismantle the attack, and if we can’t do that, to mount a multipronged defense that prevents the attack from doing any damage,” Ryan says. “And to ensure we have evidence that prevents the wrong party, or in this case, countries, from being blamed.”
I exhale, understanding the situation.
“If we’re wrong, we exonerate the Moore men. Remove them from the persons of interest list,” Sophia says, her direct eye contact communicating volumes. She’s looking to me for a solution.
“If you want to get someone into his compound, then I’m your best bet.” I eye Sophia, wondering if this was her objective all along. “For the record, I don’t believe Dorian would do this. But I can access his home. He won’t turn me away.”
“You’re not trained to be in the field,” Sophia interjects. “What if I come with you, as your friend? We’ll say we were in the area.”
I haven’t seen him in seven years, and I’m coming by to say hello with my friend tagging along?
“It’s best if I go alone.”
Dorian Moore is an all-consuming alpha male, and I left him to preserve my sanity and dignity, but they’re off on this. The Moores have the means, but not the motive.
As a counter-terrorist analyst, I have the expertise and knowledge to confirm the Moore men do not match a terrorist profile. But based on recent intel, a threat looms. As Americans, we prefer to believe the threat is abroad. Before a world war commences, we need confirmation.
I understand the logic. And the truth is, I have unfinished business that I’ve been putting off. Perhaps this is fate’s way of telling me it’s time I face my past and bury it once and for all.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3 (Reading here)
- Page 4
- Page 5
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