COVERT WRITERS TAKEDOWN by Joe Bergeron (best beach reads txt) 📕

for a payoff. If Courtney wants to go down
there and get Pat, then we’re going to let him go. It’ll
keep The Agency out of it, and that’s what Orefice
wants, at least right now.”
“David - do you think St. Croix can do it?”
“You have to be kidding, yes, we believe so. But
he would only resolve the hostage situation. The
Yankee Echo part will still be open. I’m not diminishing
the fact that we want Pat brought back safely, but the
issues around Yankee Echo are very serious. It’s going
to depend on how much Courtney and St. Croix find
out. How do you think they’re going to react if and
when they find out they’ve been deceived?”
“I don’t know. We’re going to have to deal with
that.”
217
Wednesday, May 24, 6:25 p.m.
Entering the hotel room, he found her sitting
on the bed, hands folded in her lap.
“Kay?”
No response.
Depositing his briefcase on top of the yellow
oak low-profile double chest of drawers, he moved to her
side.
“Kay…”
Taking her hands in his, their eyes met - hers
forming tears.
It was he who spoke.
“I’m sorry about the way I spoke in the offices.
I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Throwing her arms around him, she wept
freely.
“Oh, Michael, you have no idea what you’re
involved in.”
He’d heard something similar from her before.
He made another mental note.
It certainly wasn’t time to discuss it now.
Wednesday, May 24, 8:22 p.m.
David Eisenberg had majored in International
Economics, and had additionally been a Laws candidate
at Amherst College in Amherst, Massachusetts.
He was recruited by the Central Intelligence
Agency following graduation from Yale School of Law.
The ancient philosopher Herodotus told us:
‘Of all men’s miseries the bitterest is this, to
know so much, and to have control over nothing,’
This twenty-four hundred year old thought was
not lost on him right now.
The excitement of working for this
organization captivated him.
218
It was the insights he’d applied from his Laws
background that allowed him to move into the Deputy
Director’s position.
He pushed the digits on his phone to reach his
Chief in Miami.
“Yes?”
“Courtney and St. Croix are preparing to pull
something off on the island. It may involve an active
Zero team.”
“Zeros? From where? Do we know when?”
“Wirtham will try to find out, it’ll probably be
soon. Orefice doesn’t want to send in any of our people.
I’ve got JGM covered. If I have to, I’m going to blow it.
Be prepared for that too.”
“Won’t you lose contact with the network?”
“Only temporarily. Wirtham’s implemented
redundancy at McKenzie in Connecticut. We could
reestablish in three weeks in D.C.”
“This could get messy if Zero’s get involved. We
have no idea where they’re located.”
“This whole damn thing’s a mess. Try to stay
on top of this. Call me tomorrow.”
“What about McKenzie’s daughter?”
“I’ll take care of her.”
He would.
Thursday, May 25, 7:05 a.m.
She’d been dressed since 6:00 a.m..
In the bathroom furthest from the bedroom,
she sat on the floor against the wall alternately hugging
a pillow to her chest then laying it on her lap to beat it
with every sense of severity in her body.
“damn it, damn it, damn it,…damn it.”
Through whispered cursing she hoped she
could mentally prepare herself to view the tape coming
in the Federal Express package due into the hotel
before 10:30 a.m..
219
She knew it would contain a revelation, an
answer, a piece of the puzzle.
The knock on the door was an interruption she
knew would come eventually.
“Kay - are you alright?”
The cold water she was now splashing on her
face wouldn’t hide the anguish.
Actually - she wanted him to see it - to heal it.
He was standing with his back against the wall
when she emerged.
Their eyes connected.
“Kay - come here.”
He pulled her close.
“Is it about your brother?”
She drew a breath.
“Yes.”
“The tape that’s coming?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll review it first if you like.”
“No…but I want you here while I watch it.”
“I will be.”
Thursday, May 25, 10:15 a.m.
Courtney, one again reviewing his notes, took
the call.
“Yes”
“Sir, this is the front desk calling - we have a
Federal Express package for you. It’s on the way up.”
“Thank you.”
Accepting the package from the bellboy, he
handed him two one-dollar bills. The red and white
Federal Express envelope contained the tape, and a
note from Eddie Dalger. Placing the tape under his left
arm, he opened and read the letter.
220
Michael and Kathleen.
Enclosed is the CBS tape. It contains more
footage than was reviewed by the Military Review
Board during the investigation. What you have is
everything shot by the cameraman from beginning to
end. Let me know if I can do anything else.
Eddie.
In the parlor, the television appeared to be
broadcasting a snowstorm. Without conversation, he
pushed the tape into the machine, and hit the ‘play’
button on the hand-held remote control unit.
Backing away, he moved to sit beside her.
The beginning was formatted with a sequenced
numerical countdown of patterned drawings.
10...9...8..7...6...5...4...,
She reached for his hand when the steamy
jungle appeared on the screen. Two microphones, one
on the camera, one hand-held, picked up the whispering
male voices of the CBS cameraman and the reporter.
“You’re crazy, Jack. That’s a fucking firefight
up there.”
“They’re only fifty yards ahead of us. C’mon, I
want this on tonight.”
The exploding hand grenade impacted their
central nervous systems sending both of them to the
damp jungle ground. The mini cam, on automatic feed
kept rolling footage - now only showing local foliage on
the suite’s TV screen.
The reporter’s voice was hushed.
“Get up - zoom in on that.”
Numb from the violence - the cameraman had
returned to his feet while pressing the button to extend
the lens on the mini cam.
They moved closer.
221
Rifle fire pierced the air.
The sun’s reflection off the Lieutenant’s bar on
his helmet was thought to be anything other than what
it was.
The muzzle flash of an M-16 was followed by
the muzzle flash of another.
Courtney thought it appeared to be cross fire,
but it looked like the distance between the spread of the
flashes was too close for cross fire. It was so close, it
looked more like hand-to-hand combat.
Something else was strange. The muzzle
flashes on the right side of the screen were lateral, from
right to left. The muzzle flashes on the left side of the
screen were vertical, from bottom to top.
Suddenly, she released his hand.
A woman’s body lay in two directions, a small
detached head at her feet.
“OK - get that camera on me.”
“We have just come upon what seems to be the
aftermath of a massacre. The marine corporal at my
feet has apparently taken out several women and
children who were under what’s left of a tarpaulin
behind me.. Both my cameraman and I are sick at the
sight of what we see here. There was an explosion,
obviously from one of his hand grenades that has done
incredible devastation. He must have been killed in the
cross fire exchange of the fire fight. We think his unit is
about two hundred yards to the south of us. We’re
going to try and make our way…”
“Turn it off, Michael.”
Courtney clicked the remote control, the TV
was now blank.
“I’m going for a walk.”
It took everything he had to keep from
reaching for her.
“I’ll be here when you get back.”
She stopped at the door and turned, her voice
calm, yet demanding.”
222
“Analyze it, Michael. There’s something there.”
She turned again, and left.
Analysis is a science. It’s also an art. The
challenge of this analytical procedure would be to bring
together inductive reasoning with deductive logic. It
would almost be like trying to reach a destination by
driving to it from two points at the same time.
He’d take what was known and work
backwards confirming the premises making the
conclusion, and would infer from known specifics to
reach general propositions. Throughout the process, an
intuitive balance would be required to control one
procedure from dominating the other.
In this analysis, he wouldn’t know what to look
for. He only knew he needed an answer, the truth. The
most accurate way to find the truth is to begin an
analysis with things we know to be true - axioms.
The papers spread on the coffee table contained
The Universal Physical Laws
Pressing the rewind button on the remote
control, Courtney reviewed Number One.
He hit ‘play’ and reviewed the entire tape
again.
Nothing came to him. His thoughts reflected
his mood.
“Damn, that was a key.”
He worked through Number Two. It was
proven, but proved nothing.
Three…nothing.
Four…nothing.
Five…Someone broke it. There had to be a
reason.
Six
The tape rolled.
Countdown - jungle green - swearing -
explosion - foliage close up - sun’s reflection - muzzle
flashes - more of the same.
223
‘ What the Hell…?’
He read Law Six again, even though he knew it
by heart.
The tape rewound. He kept the control unit in
his hand - it was time to freeze frame.
Countdown.
He held the thought of Law Six.
‘Nothing escapes it.’
Jungle green.
Large leafed plants - footsteps - bouncing
camera.
He held the frame, taking pen to paper.
Courtney noticed the shadows made by solid
objects.
The sun was coming out of the left side of the
screen. He made a note that left was South.
The tape rolled.
Swearing.
Explosion - men falling - close up foliage -
camera kept running.
He froze the frame again.
Shadows were still created out of the left side
of the screen. The picture wasn’t disturbed. He
inferred the camera lens had remained clear.
The tape rolled.
Most everything metallic will reflect sunlight.
When conditions are perfect, even the smallest piece of
metal directing the rays of the sun away from its
surface toward a convex lens can create an instant of
total blindness within the lens.
The VCR unit housing the tape had a playback
feature that allowed for slow motion, frame by-frame
viewing. Courtney pressed the appropriate button
putting the machine in this mode.
It took about thirty frames to appear.
‘THERE!’
224
He froze the frame - the TV screen showing
only a brilliant white light even though the camera was
pointed at lush tropical greenery.
He let the frame go - the jungle reappeared.
Muzzle flashes out of the North - laterally
directed.
Muzzle flashes out of the South - vertically
directed.
He checked the tape counter and backed up
seven digits.
Placing the control unit and pen on the coffee
table, he walked to the bathroom on the bedroom side of
the suite. Kay’s lipstick was on the counter. Grabbing
it, he returned to the TV.
The tape ran frame by frame.
Using the lipstick to draw a small circle on the
screen, he noted the point of reflection.
Backing up the digits, he froze it again.
The lipstick circle was now superimposed on
dense foliage.
Picking up his pad and pen, he began to write.
‘Sunlight had hit everything uncovered…
something’s reflecting sunlight…it must be uncovered.’
Forward - four digits.
Frame-by-frame again.
The blindness disappeared, followed by the
first set of muzzle flashes.
‘FREEZE!’
He used Kay’s lipstick to draw a circle around
the fire created by the release of bullets from the end of
a gun, noticing that it was only about one inch below
and to the left of the first circle.
More analysis.
‘Whoever fired had the reflective object
attached to his head. Who would be crazy enough to
wear something reflective in the jungle?’
The tape rolled.
Muzzle