Shrouded In Silence

30





The fall air felt brisk and snappy, leaving more than a hint of autumn in the air. Leaves had already fallen from the trees along the Virginia highway. A black Ford SUV sailed down the highway with the windows so heavily tinted that no one could see in. A man in the backseat watched the scenery drift by while the almost barren tree branches shook in the wind.

"I trust you are comfortable," the driver said. "When I pick up our agents at the airport coming in from abroad, I always want them to have the amenities of home."

"Thank you. I am quite fine."

The large vehicle slowed at the edge of Langley. Once again beyond the city limits, the driver picked up speed until he came to the Central Intelligence Agency entry gates. The driver flashed his credentials, and the SUV continued through. Only then did the man in the backseat pull the clerical collar from around his neck and unfasten the shirt at the top. Setting aside the image of a priest, Donald Blake reached in his coat pocket for his personal credentials. At the next checkpoint, the driver leaned out the window. "I have Agent Donald Blake returning from Rome. We have an appointment on the third floor."

The guard flipped through the pages on his clipboard and signaled for them to go on through. The SUV drove away.

"We've gotten even more strict," the driver said over his shoulder. "Since the 9-11 attack, we dot every 'i' and cross every 't' with no exceptions. You know how it is."

"Sure," Donald Blake said. "That's the new reality."

The vehicle pulled into a parking zone and stopped. The two men entered the large gray building and took the elevator to the third floor. Once they had exited, Blake walked toward a door marked PRIVATE, and the driver sat down on a bench along the hallway. "I'll be here when you come out," he said and pointed at the door. "Have a good time in there with the big boys."

Donald Blake nodded, and went in. Immediately, a man at the head of the table stood up. "Don! Great to see you. I believe you know our special assignment people."

"Thanks, James." Two men on each side of the table stood up. Blake nodded. "Sure. Sam. Brad." They shook hands. "We've worked together before." The men sat down.

James started the interview. "Please update us on what is unfolding in Rome."

Blake leaned back in his chair. "By masquerading as a priest, I've established contacts all over Rome and made inroads at important points. I can cover those areas if you wish."

No one nodded. James shook his head.

"Good. I'll leave the descriptive data out for the moment. Following the bombing of the terminal at the Piazza del Cinquecento stop, I began working to discover the source of the attack. As we all know, the Italian police aren't the sharpest in the world and let many details slip. However, my contacts led me to an informant that I have been paying for information. Through him, I was able to penetrate the cell that set off that blast. I now have inside information on what is going on in the terrorist attacks."

"Excellent!" James added. "Exceptional work."

"A single man stands behind the blasts and is now supported by two other assistants he acquired for this operation. The media calls these punks The Scorpion and thinks they're a multitude of terrorists lurking behind every street corner. Fortunately, there isn't. One of the lead man's assistants is my informant. The mouthpiece told me that they are not connected with any other groups. The lead man simply hates Americans. Believe it or not, that's the whole point of what these hatchet men are in to, killing Americans and their influence."

Sam smiled. "Nice work, Don."

"After I got the big picture of what these hair bags were doing, I noticed that an American scholar got his big story published in Ill Messaggero. His name's Townsend, Dr. Jack Townsend. I warned him that this wasn't a good time for Americans to be getting publicity. Unfortunately, Townsend didn't take me seriously. To make some kind of bizarre point, The Scorpion boys blew up his offices, killed one of his associates, and put Townsend and his wife in the hospital. Bad news."

"These terrorists are Italians?" James said.

"Yes," Blake replied. "They can't be extradited to America."

"Hmm," James said. "That could create a problem."

"What brought me back today was the most recent information I picked up on these guerrillas. One of the options they are now pondering involves bombing the American Embassy. They apparently want to raise the ante."

James leaned over the table. "I thought the three of you needed to hear this report as it changes the game we've been playing in Italy. They may be local Boy Scouts playing with dynamite, but when one of our embassies is mentioned, it's no longer little boys picking up merit badges. We have to be highly concerned."

Brad held up his hand. "When could this occur?"

"I have no working target date yet," Blake said. "At this point, I felt it was necessary that I be debriefed and you have time to consider options."

"Good planning," James said. "Obviously, we are deeply concerned when one of our citizens is hit. However, we must immediately start preparations to make sure that our embassy remains secure. Don, I'll have Sam start the debriefing. As soon as we're through, you can return to Rome."

Blake smiled. "Gentlemen, let's start the show."