“Late in the night of July 3, he sent me a text message that was similar to suicide texts he would send during the worst days after his discharge. He didn’t respond to the messages I left on the Fourth, so I stopped by on my way to the party.”
Thorpe mulled that over and said, “That may have saved your life.”
It had, but I didn’t want to talk about it. I agreed the timing of Beatty reaching out to me raised questions, so did ditching his phone for burner phone—until you factored in a surprise visit from Air Force Office of Special Investigations officers. Then Beatty’s actions made more sense.
“How did Beatty spot the Department of Defense surveillance?” Thorpe asked.
“I don’t know exactly. He saw the same people too many times and got suspicious, then got a little drone up for a look and took video.”
“I hate those goddamned drones,” Thorpe said.
Thorpe glanced at Venuti then looked back at me and in a harder voice asked, “What does it mean to target US cities with drone instruction software?”
“It doesn’t mean anything. A friend of his modified a video game so he can use it as a teaching tool. He’s a drone flight instructor. That’s his business. Corporations are his primary clients. Look, he flew the real deal for seven years. Nine-hundred-ninety-nine kills were attributed to him.”
Venuti shook his head. “Quit one short of a thousand. Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
I looked at Venuti. “What do you know about Jeremy Beatty, Dan?”
Thorpe cut that off before it went anywhere. He asked, “Is his drone consulting work legitimate?”
“Seems to be. He works primarily through a job broker who has gotten him business with farmers, mining companies, utilities, and others. He worked on a movie. He gets referrals. I think it’s legitimate and growing, but I don’t know much about drone consultants.”
“Did he tell you he was canceling his phone?”
“No, Sarah Warner, the DOD investigator, told me. I believe she also thinks I’m an apologist for Beatty. But like I said, when I saw Beatty last night, he showed me videotape of their surveillance. He made a copy that I gave to Warner. He thought they were CIA coming back to check on him about a drone strike he was the trigger on and is not supposed to talk about.” I looked at their faces and added, “Jeremy knew my sister, Jim, and the kids. Melissa was fond of him. Jim is who got me involved trying to help him. Dan knows this.”
“Show me the text he sent you July 3.”
I pulled out my phone and brought it up.
Thorpe turned to Venuti and asked, “Is anyone reading what DOD gave us?”
“I don’t have anyone available yet.”
“Have you looked at them?”
Venuti shook his head and I looked at him, debating, and then I said, “The DOD investigators told me the Bureau has been aware of their investigation of Beatty for months.”
“This office?” Thorpe asked.
“Yes.”
I’d been sitting on that one. I knew from the way Sarah Warner had said it that it was probably true, and, if so, probably tracked back through the Domestic Terrorism Squad.
Thorpe turned to Venuti.
“Were we aware OSI and the DOD were investigating a civilian former drone pilot and Special Agent Grale?”
“Something was communicated, but it didn’t make much of an impact on me. Obviously, if they were genuinely investigating a special agent we would have heard a lot more about it. If I’d known it was a chance to get Grale suspended, I would have been all over it.”
Venuti meant that to be funny. Had to admire him for even trying, but it repulsed Thorpe this morning. The Venuti I knew might let them investigate me, just to see if they could come up with anything. He was that way, and it didn’t offend or surprise me.
Thorpe asked Venuti, “Were you aware Agent Grale has tried for a couple of years to help Beatty adjust to civilian life and figure out his PTSD?”
With me here, Venuti couldn’t dodge it. “I was aware,” he said. “And I’m sorry for the bad joke. Grale is beyond question, so I didn’t worry about whatever thread DOD was following.”
“Did you alert the DOD investigators to Grale’s mentoring of Jeremy Beatty?”
“I’m not sure. I think so. I hope so. I should have, but this was right after the bombing and I didn’t talk with them very long. It was understood that Grale would come in, answer questions, and go back out to the Alagara.” He looked at me. “That’s what we talked about.”
I nodded, but he never told the DOD that Beatty and I were friends. He knew it. I knew it. DOD said they had wiretaps, and he got curious.
Thorpe returned to me.
“You get a suicidal text the night of July 3. That’s Beatty reaching out to you before he kills the pilots in an act of revenge against the air force. Then he goes somewhere to take his own life.”
He turned to Venuti again. “Isn’t that what we’re getting from DOD?”
“More or less.”