Strategic Moves

NINE

Lance turned his attention from Stone to Mike Freeman. “Mike,” he said, “the Agency is contemplating outsourcing some of our operations.”

“Oh?” Freeman answered.

“Yes. What with Iraq, Afghanistan, and the war on terror at home, we’re starting to get stretched pretty thin.”

“I can understand that,” Freeman said.

“The war on terror at home?” Stone interjected. “Doesn’t your charter prevent the Agency from operating at home?”

Lance crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. “Our purview is expanded to domestic when the president authorizes it.”

“Does he authorize these forays in writing?” Stone asked.

“Yes, he does.”

Stone sat back and let Mike continue.

“How familiar are you with our operations, Lance?” Freeman asked.

“More familiar than you might think,” Lance replied.

“Do you have any questions about our operations?” Freeman asked.

“Not at the moment,” Lance said. “I expect I’ll have specific questions if we come to the point of hiring you.”

“Are you contemplating hiring us for activities currently within our various fields of operations?”

“Possibly,” Lance said.

“Why don’t you tell us the sort of thing you have in mind, then,” Freeman said.

Stone cut in again. “Or, perhaps specifically what you have in mind.”

“I can see us using your personnel protection services,” Lance said. “I can see us purchasing armored civilian vehicles from your transportation division. I can see us chartering your C-17 cargo jet for delivery of personnel and equipment in foreign zones.”

“We would be pleased to consider projects in any of those areas,” Mike said.

“Lance,” Stone said, “I somehow have the feeling that you are contemplating operating in some areas where you might not want the Agency to be seen to be operating. Is that the case?”

“Quite possibly,” Lance said. “Tell me, Mike, what percentage of your operations people have former or current high-security clearances?”

“All of them,” Freeman replied, “who are former military, FBI, or intelligence people. The ones who have served in similar capacities in other countries would not, of course, have American clearance status, present or former. They would amount to about twenty percent of our operations people.”

“Would that include you yourself?” Lance asked.

“I am Canadian by birth but I have been a U.S. citizen for eight years now, and I have never applied for a security clearance.”

“Would you object to being vetted for such a clearance?”

“Not at all.”

Lance reached for his briefcase beside his chair, opened it, and produced a form and handed it to Mike. “Would you kindly complete this form?”

“Of course,” Freeman said, taking the form and glancing at it. “How soon do you need it?”

“Now would be a good time,” Lance replied.

Freeman took a pen from his pocket and a magazine from the coffee table for support and began filling out the form.

“Well, Stone,” Lance said, “what have you been up to?”

“Work, work, work,” Stone replied. “Not much else.”

“Anything you can talk about?”

“I’m afraid not,” Stone said. “Client confidentiality, of course.”

“Of course. I understand you’ve recently become type-rated in the Cessna Citation Mustang.”

Stone was surprised he knew. “Yes, I have. Jim Hackett arranged to have me trained in the airplane.”

“Good skill to have,” Lance said.

“A pleasant one.” He looked over at Mike to see how he was doing on the form. He appeared to be on the last page.

Freeman picked up a phone and buzzed his secretary. “Would you come in, please?”

The woman entered the room, and Mike handed her the document. “Would you fill in the relevant spaces on past employment and residences, please? It’s all in my curriculum vitae in our files.”

“Of course,” she replied, and left with the document.

Stone began to wonder if Mike’s background could stand a background check. Freeman was not who he said he was, and Stone was, perhaps, the only living person who knew that. Freeman was, in fact, British and a former member of MI6, from which he had been forced as part of a witch hunt against him some years ago. Jim Hackett had been killed because Mike’s enemies in the British government believed him to be the man they were hunting, when Mike Freeman was, in fact, that man.

“What brings you to New York, Lance, apart from visiting us?” Freeman asked.

“Nothing else,” Lance replied. “I had, in fact, intended to speak to James Hackett, but of course, his death intervened. Do you know who killed him?”

“We’re still working on that,” Freeman replied.

“Stone, how about you? You were with Hackett when he died, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but I’m unable to speak about it,” Stone replied. He did not want to tell Lance why not.

“Mmmmm,” Lance purred. “Client confidentiality?”

“Yes,” Stone replied, hoping his curiosity would stop there.

“You did some work for Felicity Devonshire at MI6 not very long ago, didn’t you?”

“If I had, I certainly couldn’t comment, could I?”

“No, I expect she asked you to sign the Official Secrets Act.”

The secretary reentered the room before Stone could reply and handed the form to Freeman, who looked it over, signed it, and handed it to Lance.

Lance looked it over, too. “May I use your fax machine?” he asked.

“Of course,” Mike replied. He led Lance over to a bookcase and opened a panel for him, revealing the machine. Lance pressed a couple of buttons and dialed a number. “Will it send both sides of the document?” he asked.

“Yes,” Freeman said, “if you select that option.”

Lance sent the document, then returned to his chair and put the form into his briefcase. “We’ll have a response shortly,” Lance said.

“Don’t you have to conduct an investigation?” Stone asked.

“Yes, but for the moment we will compare the information on the form electronically with what we already know about Mike, to be sure there are no discrepancies.”

This did not seem to worry Mike.

Lance’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me,” he said. He held the phone to his ear. “Yes?” He listened for a moment. “Thank you,” he said, and hung up. “Well, that’s done. Now we can proceed, I think.”