Black Flagged Redux

Chapter 13





9:02 AM

CIA Headquarters

Langley, Virginia





Karl Berg scanned through the email alerts that had been passed to him by the National Clandestine Branch's Analysis Dissemination group and focused on a new report provided by the Community HUMINT (Human Intelligence) Coordination Center. The brief email didn't surprise him, given the ELINT (Electronic Intelligence) intercept transcripts provided by the NSA two days earlier. It had only been a matter of time.

The veteran agent rubbed his face with both hands and glanced around, giving the entire matter some consideration. He hadn't found the time to unpack several boxes of personal books and curios that he had collected over a thirty-one year career as a CIA agent, ten years of which had been spent behind the Iron Curtain. At 53, he looked a few years younger than his peers, which he attributed to thick brown hair that showed little indication of turning gray. His face showed a different story. The years of stress and long hours had taken a toll, and for the first year ever, he looked as tired as he felt. Beyond the wrinkles and lines, his dark blue eyes held the weariness of making hard decisions and living with the consequences.

He still couldn't shake the regret he felt for leaving Keller in the burning safe house two years ago. He didn't kill the young agent, but he certainly hadn't done anything to save him. It had been a selfish act, fueled by several bad decisions over the course of the day. The attack on the safe house had been his fault for jumping to conclusions about Daniel Petrovich's involvement in the murder of Nicole Erak. There had been no way to know that Nicole was still alive, living under an alias…actually married to the man he suspected of killing her. Her subterfuge had been brilliant and almost made him proud, but it had left him with an awful mess.

He had let his personal feelings explode that day, and two dedicated CIA agents had paid the price. Berg had buried the part where Keller's death ensured that the unholy alliance between General Sanderson and Berg could move forward. Keller's memory had been a potential liability to the proposed alliance, and Berg didn't want to ponder exactly how much this selfish instinct influenced which agent he decided to pull out of the burning safe house first. He knew the answer and it didn't sit well with him, which was why he swore to ensure that it hadn't been a waste. Thinking deeply about the information presented on his screen, he decided to put Sanderson's agreement to the test.

He picked up his desk phone and dialed Audra Bauer, who had been promoted to deputy director of the National Clandestine Service. Despite the fact that he had been Bauer's assistant director in the Counter-Terrorism Center, he wasn't in line to take that job upon her promotion, so he took a lateral transfer into a liaison position with the Intelligence Directorate's Weapons, Intelligence, Non-Proliferation and Arms Control Center. He remained a member of the National Clandestine Service (NCS), where he had served his entire career, but now spent his time coordinating WMD (Weapons of Mass Destruction) intelligence analysis with the hands-on activities of the NCS branch.

It was a newly-created position, thanks to Audra Bauer, who wanted to keep him close, but couldn't bring him along for the ride to the director's office. It was a good move and put several NCS personnel under his charge. There was a persistent rumor that NCS was looking to expand Berg's group into a full Branch within a few years. If he played his cards right, he might be in line for a deputy directorship. Then again, a lot could happen in a few years, and Berg wasn't exactly known for playing it safe. The idea rattling around in his head was a testament to the risks he had no problem taking.

"Deputy Director Bauer."

"Good morning, Audra. It's your favorite Intelligence Directorate liaison," he said, leaning back in his chair.

"I wasn't aware that we had more than one," she teased.

"I guess the distinction is safe for now. Hey, I need to run something by you in person. Have you read the most recent HUMINT summary from our friends in Kazakhstan?"

"Why don't you head over to my office? I have a meeting in about twenty minutes, but we should really talk about this. See you in a few?" she said.

"I'll be right down," he said and hung up the call.

A few minutes later, he navigated the corridors and stairwells needed to arrive at her office on the other side of the building. He greeted a few familiar faces, but pressed forward, not wanting to waste a minute of the rare time he had been given. There were plenty of unfamiliar faces that would have been pissed to learn that Berg had simply picked up the phone and secured time with one of the most sought after people in the National Clandestine Service. Even the office assistants didn't query him as he strode into "off limits" territory near the director's office and conference rooms. He nodded politely and continued, turning into the room labeled Assistant Director on a dark blue placard.

"Mr. Berg, Ms. Bauer is ready for you. No need to knock, sir," her assistant said, attentively observing him from behind a neatly arranged desk.

"Thank you, Liz."

Karl opened the door and was greeted by Audra, who didn't get up from her desk. She was studying one of two flat-screen monitors on her desk, squinting.

"Might help if you turned on some lights in here," he said, making his way over to her desk.

This was the second time he had been to her spacious office. Audra was not a packrat like he was, and there were very few personal effects present. A family photograph; three framed service decorations, which Berg knew were not the most prestigious she had earned, but instead the ones that meant the most to her; a few crisp, colorful authentic prints purchased from a semi-obscure artist in Maine; and neatly organized bookshelves, containing not a single personal book. Audra preferred a modernistic, Spartan environment, and the preference extended to her home, which very closely resembled the minimalist tone captured in her office. All except for her husband's den, which was more Berg's style and must have been a serious compromise in their relationship.

"I like the natural light. I can't stand the institutional lighting of this place…and I'm not about to bring in one of those antique abominations you have around your office. So…as much I'd love to catch up, Karl, I think we'll need every one of the few minutes we have to discuss what I'm reading here. It's not yet actionable in my opinion, but we need to alert some of our good friends in Europe. FBI and Homeland, definitely. I hesitate to put up an Interpol alert, since this is obviously not in the open."

"Then you might want to reconsider the FBI and Homeland. I agree that they need to be notified, but they'll liaison with Interpol as one of their first steps," he said.

"I know," she muttered. "I guess we can work on this behind the scenes, but even bringing some of the friendly intelligence services into the fold poses risks. They'll do what's in their best interest, and if that means a coordinated Interpol effort—or even better, throwing us under the bus and confronting Russia—they won't hesitate."

"We know FSB and SVR agents have been in direct contact with both the VECTOR Institute and Microbiology Institute in Stepnagorsk. The NSA has picked up a ton of chatter centered around Semipalatinsk and Kurchatov, and we're pretty sure they've sent ‘unofficial’ assets across the border, which would indicate to me that they're searching for something important. It's all rather unsettling. The most disturbing aspect is the Russians’ secrecy. They've suddenly rekindled the search for this Reznikov character, who is at the top of everyone's WMD watch list, and they haven't breathed a word of it to anyone outside of Russia. I think we need to activate ground assets and take our own look around Kazakhstan," Berg said.

"Special Activities Division? I don't know. The Russians might be chasing a dead end. I can reassign imagery assets without alerting anyone, but I don't have the authority to activate a Special Operations Group. We can start the ball rolling, but I'm going to need more than a hunch that Reznikov is up to something. Russians snooping around Kazakhstan for a missing scientist isn't going to be enough," she said.

"He's not just any scientist. He's a bio-weapons expert that has been actively courting Muslim extremist groups for at least two years. Maybe longer. We know he's been to Al Qaeda facilities in Africa, and now electronic intercepts suggest he's met with Al Qaeda leadership in Dagestan. The fallout from a partnership between Reznikov and Al Qaeda could be disastrous for the West. The guy was caught trying to steal partially weaponized encephalitis samples from the VECTOR lab, and the Russians tried to kill him for that."

"I'm not going to ask how you know that," she said, shutting down her computer, assembling some files and stuffing them into a nylon executive bag.

"I wouldn't tell if you did ask. I'd like to use 'off the books' assets to do some digging around Kazakhstan. Get me access to imagery associated with the area around Kurchatov and Semipalatinsk, and I'll get you the information you need to get the ball rolling," he added.

She stopped and stared at him, glancing at the door, which Berg had closed behind them.

"Sanderson's group?"

"He has highly trained operatives that wouldn't raise an eyebrow in that region. The team could be on the ground within twenty-four hours. I'd expect actionable intelligence several hours after that."

"Assuming they find anything. No links back to us on this," she stated harshly.

"That's why I want to use them. I'll set up equipment through another source," he said and stood silently, waiting for her final approval.

"All right, make it happen," she said, starting for the door.

"I might need UAV support, in case they find something…or something finds them."

"I'll need to think hard on that request, Karl. I assume you'll want the drone to be armed, too?"

"Well…an unarmed drone is sort of pointless," he said, moving out of her way.

She shook her head and smiled. "Let me see what I can do about the drone. Get me something I can work with here, and let's hope this is all a false alarm on the Russians' end. So far, you've actually been really good for my career. I'd hate to see that change," she said, smiling warmly.

"The day is young. Stick around long enough and you'll find yourself assigned to a liaison position with the Intelligence Directorate," he retorted.

"A fate worse than death. Let's meet up later to finalize things," she said.

"You mean I have to ascend into these hallowed halls twice in one day?"

"You love coming up here and you know it," she said, walking through the door after him.

"I really don't. See you later."

Berg had a few calls to make and could barely keep himself from skipping down the halls. He lived for this kind of action and felt reinvigorated. Time to call in a few favors.