“I think it’s best for the Agency to get out ahead of the story.”
“You’ve been tough on my Agency in the past, but fair. More or less.”
She ignored the last part and replied, “And I assure you I will be fair now.”
Carmichael nodded. “I know you were already working on a story about the death of Lee Babbitt, even before this dreadful thing happened this afternoon.”
“That’s right. Going back to the events last Saturday in Washington Highlands on Brandywine Street. This was curious to us, because it seemed as if CIA was interested in the homicide there, which happened forty-eight hours before the death of Mr. Babbitt.”
“What do you know about the terrorist loose in the District?” Denny asked.
Catherine just smiled. “Sorry, Director Carmichael, but that’s not really how it works, not even on background. I’m here to ask the questions.” There was no way in hell she was going to divulge just how in the dark she and Andy Shoal were as to what the hell was going on.
Carmichael nodded gravely. “Very well. I’ll tell you what we know. We received information recently. I can’t, of course, get into sources on this, but suffice it to say that a reputable ally provided us primary intelligence indicating a personality already known to us was in the local area. We had already deemed him as a threat to the Agency, so we did not hesitate to follow all leads.”
Catherine broke down Carmichael’s intel speak and put it into plain speak. “You are saying that an ally told you a man you already knew to be trouble was here in town and you thought he might be dangerous to CIA employees.”
“As I said.”
“What tipped you off to the fact he was involved in the Brandywine Street attack?”
“Nothing, initially, and that’s the truth.”
Catherine wondered if this meant everything else was a lie, but she didn’t ask.
Denny continued, “We were scrambling, looking for a lead. The shooting on Brandywine piqued our interest. We thought it possible this personality might be here without many resources, and we thought it likely a drug den like that would be a suitable place for him to find those resources.”
“Money and guns?”
“Correct.”
“The number six was left at the crime scene.” Catherine stated it, not giving Carmichael a chance to deny it.
He seemed surprised she knew this, but he hid it well. “It’s a symbol we’ve seen this man use in the past.”
“What does it mean?”
“Unknown.”
Catherine detected no deception, but she knew Carmichael would be good at hiding it. She said, “What is this suspect’s nationality?”
Carmichael replied flatly. “He is American.”
Catherine had not expected this at all. “This is some sort of homegrown terror scenario?”
“That, I’m afraid, is exactly what we are dealing with here.”
Catherine looked into the director’s eyes. “Is this someone who has, or someone who once had, a relationship with CIA?”
A shake of the head. “Only in his own mind. He’s mentally unsound. A paranoid psychotic is our best estimate.”
“Do you know why he is targeting the CIA specifically?”
“I can only guess. We are a symbol of American power. We make enemies, even at home.”
Catherine did detect a little deception now, but certainly nothing she could pin down. She asked, “Can you give me his name?”
“I’m afraid I can’t, only because we don’t know it. We do know a little about him. Again, sources must be protected, so I can’t tell you how we know what we know.”
“I understand.”
“He was born and raised in Jacksonville, Florida. He’s in his thirties. White, male. A hair under six feet tall.”
The Jacksonville reference seemed oddly placed to Catherine, coming even before his physical description and without any other references to his past. She stored this peculiarly positioned fact for later and said, “He’s obviously had some training. I mean, some kook who thinks he is CIA but really lives in his mother’s basement isn’t going to pick fights with a bunch of drug dealers, police, and security contractors and live to tell about it.”
Carmichael nodded again, even more gravely than before. “We think he’s had training overseas.”
“Where?”
“Again, unknown. A camp in Yemen, most likely.”
Catherine was confused, and she didn’t hide it. “Wait. He’s a jihadist?”
“No, no.” Denny put a hand up. “We don’t think so. We just think he was deemed a useful tool for some group who had CIA in its crosshairs, so they recruited him for training. Probably off the Internet, as that’s the way these things happen nowadays.”
“What else do you know about him?”
“We think he spent time in Miami, Florida. Again, I can’t tell you how we know.”