D.C. Dead

34

Todd Bacon went over his checklist again, reading it aloud so Tank Wheeler could see that he had forgotten nothing. He walked down the long table, pointing at items and checking them off his list.

“Perfect, Todd,” Tank said. “You’re in the groove already. Now let’s get those two officers down here and go over it all with them.” Tank picked up a phone and spoke to someone. “They’re on their way,” he said.

“Tank,” Todd said, “did you ever work with Teddy Fay when he was here?”

“Sure I did. Teddy trained me. He must have put me through hundreds of quizzes like the one you’ve just gone through. Teddy was terrific at briefing agents, and a genius at anticipating what kind of equipment they would need. He invented a big chunk of the electronic stuff that we still use to equip field people.”

“I heard that he was important to the department,” Todd said.

“He was more than important, he was essential. The Agency tried everything to get him to stay on, but he retired right on time. He’d made a bundle inventing kitchen and household gadgets that got sold on television in the middle of the night, so he could afford a happy retirement.”

“I heard that, too,” Todd said.

“Funny, they’re still selling some of his inventions, and I guess they got someone to replace him who could come up with the gadget ideas, because you turn on the TV when you can’t sleep, and they’re selling them right now.”

That notion stuck in Todd’s mind, but he had to push it to the back of his brain, because the two young officers arrived for their briefing. The man looked to be in his mid-twenties, though Todd knew he was probably older, and the girl appeared to be no older than eighteen or nineteen, though she was probably older, too. Todd thought it was brilliant casting for the mission.

Todd and Tank introduced themselves, and Todd began the briefing. “Here are your passports,” he said, handing them each one. “You’ve already committed your legend to memory, and the dates in the passports are the ones you’ve memorized. You’re university students at Leeds, in the English Midlands, and you’re hiking in the mountains east of Beirut.” He picked up a small leather case and handed it to them. “This is a perfectly ordinary GPS navigator, made by Garmin, their latest model. When you activate it in Beirut, it will already have your track from England in memory, where a good tech can extract it. That will help support your legend, if you’re interrogated.”

Todd held up two smaller, flatter boxes. “These are the GPS units that really matter. When turned on, they will broadcast an encrypted position that will tell us exactly where you are, even if you’re separated. You’ll hide this on your body: you, Jim, will glue it behind your scrotum; you, Carey, will put it inside your vagina. Those are the places least likely to be searched, but don’t count on their not being found. If you are arrested, hide them in the room where you’re being held and turn them on. If rescue is an option, these units will help make it possible.”

He continued the briefing, holding up each piece of equipment, demonstrating it when necessary, then passing on to the next item. “Nothing you’re carrying will identify you as anything but what you say you are, from your passports to the contents of your wallets.”

When he had finished the briefing, he held up two foil-wrapped condoms. “These are your way out, if everything goes wrong. Inside is a flat vinyl-encased container holding a small amount of a clear liquid. You can conceal it in your mouth, between the cheek and the gum. It won’t dissolve, but if you bite it hard, the liquid will spill, and you’ll have only seconds to live. As you were told in your training, it will always be your decision as to whether or not to use it, but if things get so bad that you no longer want to live, it’s there.”

Todd watched as the two packed their clothes and equipment into their backpacks, then he shook their hands and sent them on their way.

“That was good,” Tank said. “You didn’t sugarcoat it.”

“How can you sugarcoat taking your own life?” Todd asked.

“Joke about it. That was what I did in the beginning, but Teddy Fay brought me up short and told me to be direct with them. I felt better about it when I was.”

That brought Todd’s mind back to where it had been before the briefing. In his pursuit of Teddy, the man had never seemed short of money. He had bought and discarded cars along the way, and that took cash. Teddy must still be designing those kitchen gadgets, he figured, and he still had a way to get them on TV and get paid for them. Exploring that might lead to finding him.

Then Todd stopped himself. I can’t go on obsessing about Teddy Fay, he told himself. That part of my career and my life is over, and it’s not a good idea to revisit it.

He joined Tank in the cafeteria for lunch, and put Teddy Fay out of his mind.