The Bin Laden Plot

3 ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

Brenda Verbeck’s SUV rolled to a stop at the base of the Pentagon’s Mall Entrance, where she was escorted up the steps by two protective agents, one on each side, then into the massive military complex covering thirty-four acres, designed in a fashion that would enthrall a cribbage player: five sides, five stories, five rings, with a five-acre courtyard in the middle. As Verbeck stepped into the building, she reflected on the Pentagon’s unusual concentration of power — not at its center but along its perimeter: a mile-long pentagonal corridor labeled the E-Ring, where the main offices of the Department of Defense were located.

Verbeck entered the reception area adjacent to her office, taking no heed this morning of one of the perks of her position: a suite offering splendid views of the Robert E. Lee memorial and surrounding Arlington National Cemetery. She passed her military aide, Captain Andy Hoskins, seated at his desk. Their eyes locked briefly, then he followed her into her office. After closing the door, he took a seat beside Verbeck at her conference table.

“How did the brief go?” he asked.

“As well as I had hoped.”

“Did everyone buy the renegade UUV story?”

“Hook, line, and sinker,” Verbeck replied. “The administration is concerned about the potential negative publicity, so they’re reacting quickly, before evidence from the attack is analyzed.”

“Excellent,” Hoskins replied. “Were you put directly in charge of the mission to hunt down the UUV?”

“Exactly as planned. The CNO will make the necessary arrangements, so I’ll have direct authority over the effort, bypassing the combatant commanders.”

“What assets are assigned?”

“A submarine. USS Michigan, already in the Persian Gulf. We’ll need to send orders to her right away.”

“I’ll draft a Commanding Officer’s Eyes Only message, providing the necessary direction.”

“I have a better idea,” Verbeck replied. “I want to minimize the number of individuals who are exposed to the details. If we transmit a message, someone at the communications center has to upload and review it before sending, and then it has to be received by the submarine. Who knows how many people will read it. Instead, I’d like to deliver the orders to Michigan’s captain personally. Can that be arranged?”

“Certainly. Fifth Fleet Command is located in Bahrain, and I can direct the submarine to meet us there. I’ll arrange your transportation — a flight first thing in the morning.” After a short hesitation, he asked, “I assume I’ll be coming with you?”

“Of course.”

Verbeck placed a hand inside his thigh, sliding it upward as she leaned toward Hoskins, engaging him in a passionate kiss.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done so far,” she said after she pulled back, “keeping this issue under wraps. No one can learn the truth. Aside from you, is anyone else aware of the transaction?”

“One other person — the cryptologic technician here in the Pentagon who reviewed the information upon receipt. The data has been deleted from our servers; it never went to the CIA.”

“How do we keep the cryptologic technician from talking?”

“I had him sign a nondisclosure agreement, reminding him he’d lose his security clearance if he revealed the contents of the UUV transmission to anyone.”

“Do you have the agreement?”

Hoskins pulled the NDA from his notepad.

“If I may,” Verbeck said, holding her hand out. “I’d like to keep this close hold.”

“Understandable.” Hoskins handed it to Verbeck. “I’ll send the message directing Michigan to meet us in Bahrain, then make our travel arrangements. Afterward… are you available tonight?”

“How about eight o’clock?” she replied as she leaned in for another kiss.

After Hoskins departed her office, closing the door behind him, Verbeck moved to her desk, placing the NDA before her. She picked up the phone and dialed.

When her call was answered, she said, “This is Brenda. I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“Your kind.”

“What do you need?”

“I have some loose ends I need tied up.”

“I’d rather not get involved.”

“You have some loose ends to tie up yourself. You’ve left them dangling for far too long. Why not take care of them as well?”

There was silence for a moment before Verbeck received a response.

“I agree. But there’s a complication. One of my loose ends is assigned to your protective detail. However, it could be considered an opportunity. I could arrange his death while he’s assigned to you for an event, or do you prefer it be done during a quieter, off-duty moment?”

Brenda considered the question, and it didn’t take long for her to decide on the former option.

“Definitely while on duty. Can you make it look like I was the intended victim? The agent will go down a hero, and I’ll get some welcome publicity. SecNav is my stepping stone to SecDef, and the more publicity I can get, the better.”

“I’ll see what I can arrange. How many loose ends do you have?”

“Two.”

“Who?”

Verbeck skimmed the NDA agreement, locating the person’s name. “Jason Lee Johnson. He’s a Navy cryptologic technician here at the Pentagon.”

“And the second?”

“Captain Andrew Howard Hoskins, my military aide.”