The Big Blue Sky: Sixteen

Molly was anxious as she waited to see Director Hallman. She had hoped to have the preliminary lab results from Bernstein’s autopsy, but they had been held up without explanation. Without the results the case she was building for a deeper investigation into the Congressman’s death was based entirely on circumstantial evidence, and a few momentous leaps of faith. That Molly could see that a trail led somewhere definitely was based more on faith than fact. Still,Bbsed upon the evidence she had seen, Bernstein’s death was likely connected to the other two deaths Asgari had shown her. As flimsy as the evidence was, Molly felt sure she could still make enough of an argument to pursue a case, and at least stall for enough time to flush out a few leads until the lab results came in.

The Director burst through the door, as if the hall had exhaled and spit him into the office. Tall, with a linebacker’s shoulders, thinning blond hair and thin frameless eyeglass, he’d just come from a meeting with Homeland Security regarding the growing crisis in the Persian Gulf. The nation’s security network was taking the prospect of Iranian sleeper cells and saboteurs very seriously. The view was that they could be activated at any time, and given Iran’s own view of its chances, to wage war against the United States, NATO and perhaps Israel all at once.

Unconventional war would likely be their best opportunity to inflict any sort of meaningful suffering upon their enemies. A number of Iranian nationals and diplomats had already disappeared or had alluded their usual surveillance.

Urgency and concern was plainly visible on the Director’s face. He stopped on a dime and looked down at Molly, who was now thinking better of their meeting. Hallman pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing a bit, as if deciding her fate. He curled his index finger and beckoned her into his office.

Inside his comfortable office Molly pushed the door closed. Daylight poured into the office that had an appearance of a law office, with an impressive number of polished and pristine law volumes. Director Hallman slipped off his dark blue suit coat and sat quickly at the large oak desk. Over the director’s shoulder Molly could just see the stone white Washingtom Monument climbing through autumn colored trees into a pristine blue sky.

“Agent,” he began, tapping out something on his computer keyboard. His attention only partially on her. “I can give you three minutes. You’ll have to make your case quickly.”

“Of course, sir.”

Hallman checked his Rolex. “Hate to rush you, but the shit is hitting the fan.”

Molly took a breath and opened the file in her hand. She gave a brief background on Congressman Bernstein and drew all the connections she could find between the other two deaths. At the center, though there was no real evidence to support it, was the victims mutual interest in discrediting and defunding FIRST THRUST INC, which was being purchased by the international arms dealer, Umberto Shosa. She alluded to the lab results and the autopsies, and slid a comparison of the alleged causes of death for each man.

“Strokes?” Hallman pushed the paper back across the desk to her.

“Well…”

“Agent,” his tone was almost scolding, “this is Washington, where strokes and heart attacks are the biggest cause of death among government types. All of these men were middle aged and, statistically speaking, prime candidates for strokes.”

“Indeed, sir,” she pointed to each of the images, “ but this damage is hardly consistent with a simple…”

“It’s a stretch. “ Hallman leaned back in his tall brown leather chair.

“I understand, sir, but…”

“Let me stop you right there. If you haven’t heard the news from Iran you will soon enough.”

Molly shook her head, and felt so terribly frustrated.

“I’ve just come from a meeting with the Homeland Security Secretary. We’ve lost contact with a number of Iranian nationals we’ve been watching. I’ve got an Iranian diplomat who might be in charge of activating sleeper cells if we wind up going to war. I don’t think he quite meets the profile, but he is still unaccounted for. My sense is he’ll use the crisis to defect, and we’ll find him working as a cab driver in Duluth in six months. I need you to find this guy. His name is Ahmed Fallahi. I’ve sent you the file already.”

The name was familiar to her somehow, though for the moment, Molly could not place exactly where she knew it from.

“Why me, sir?”

Hallman came around the side of the desk and sat on the edge. “Because I can count on you to do the job right and help make the world a normal place again. You’re a smart agent who makes intelligent choices. That is exactly what is called for here.”

It was hard to be too disappointed at that. At some point the FBI and law enforcement was less a crusade than a job. She was an employee of the government and not a knight of the realm. She nodded and left. She wouldn’t abandon the case completely. If something changed, if there was something she could find that clearly pointed to a crime then she would argue for it again. Until then she would track down Ahmed Fallahi, not realizing the powerful implications it would have on her life and for the world.