“Have their bodies been retrieved?” asked Carrie, taking advantage of a gap in the conversation.
“Yes. We found the helicopter wreckage last night. Another team of SEALs went in with that objective. They’re flying the bodies stateside tonight.”
Carrie nodded.
Justin took another sip of his coffee.
“It’s my understanding the Service, your Service, provided a part of the intel for this operation,” Adams said.
“Yes, it came out of SAD, our Southeast Africa Division. We have no field office in Mog. The capital and pretty much all of Somalia is a death trap. Too volatile and too hostile. We dispatch agents in on specific tasks and get them out of that hell as soon as they finish their missions.”
“Uh-huh,” Adams said. “The forty-year civil war in the Horn of Africa.”
“More like the Thorn of Africa and a pain in the ass for the rest of the world. Somali pirates, al-Shabaab terrorists, weapon smuggling, refugees, famines. Anyway, two SAD operatives were tracking movements of senior members of an al-Shabaab local branch after some fierce fighting in the area around Afmadow. With al-Shabaab forces weakened and in retreat, it seemed it was the perfect time for us to make a move on the senior members if they crossed into Kenya, arguably a safer place for our business.”
Adams nodded, producing a big grin.
Justin nodded before continuing. “Then two high-level militants show up, apparently to rally up the troops for a counteroffensive. Our operatives confirmed their identities through local, trustworthy sources and relayed that intel to my team and JTF2. We assessed it and passed it on to the SEALs. CIA sent in one of their contacts. He confirmed the militants’ position, which in turn resulted in the authorization to send in the SEALs for the snatch-and-grab operation.”
Adams let out a deep sigh, then leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Yes, that pretty much summarizes it well, although I wasn’t looking for a summary.”
Justin cocked his head to the left. “I clarified the role our intel played in the setup of this op. The final decision was not made by my team or anyone else in the Canadian Intelligence Service.”
Hu leaned forward. His black eyes reflected his displeasure with Justin’s answer. “So, according to you, we’re responsible for this ambush and these deaths?”
Justin grinned, then moved his chair closer to the table. He wished Hu was on the chair directly across from him. He held Hu’s gaze for a second before saying, “Of course not, but it took some effort for you to misunderstand my words.”
“All right, all right,” Adams intervened. “Nothing good will come from us pointing fingers at each other.”
“We gave the SEALs and the CIA everything we had,” Justin said. “No new intel came in before or during the SEALs operation. When rumors began to come in about a Black Hawk downed in southern Somalia, we shared every piece of intel as received, assessed, and confirmed by our operatives.”
A tense pause stretched for a few long moments. The air conditioning low hum filled the silent room.
“Have you found your local contact?” Carrie asked. “Some reports say he didn’t report at the agreed pickup site.”
Adams rubbed his bald head. “The SEALs found his mutilated body. His head was missing.”
A look of disgust hung on Hu’s face.
“Pictures? Videos on jihadi websites?” Justin asked.
“No, not yet. We hope there won’t be any, but we can’t be sure, of course. Still, the facts that our man was discovered and captured and our SEALs team fell into an ambush are causes for great concern. We’re worried there is a leak, a mole, who’s giving intel to our enemy.”
“A mole? In the CIA?” Justin asked.
Hu shook his head. Adams eyes narrowed. “I’m afraid it’s in the Service, your Service,” he said in a low, but firm voice. He did not seem at the very least displeased at making such a revelation.
“What?” Carrie said.
“I hope you have some evidence.” Justin unclenched his teeth just long enough to shoot out the words.
Adams pointed at the folder by his tablet. “It’s all here. Inconclusive evidence and inadmissible in a court of law, but sufficient to point us in the right direction. In the direction of your door.”
‘Inadmissible in a court of law’ seemed to be the new CIA euphemism for information obtained under torture or other methods prohibited by US law or international conventions. The practice had been a constant tool widely used by CIA. Justin was not surprised.
Adams picked up a couple of documents from his folder. “I don’t expect you to draw your conclusions right at this moment, but you’ll see these files prove something very sinister is in the works. One of al-Shabaab militant cells has secret intelligence about Western agencies operations, intelligence that can come from only one source.”
“And you’re sure the source is not CIA?” asked Justin.
“We’re positive. There has been an internal investigation going on for weeks. Leaks have happened only when CIA was running joint operations. Initially, we suspected it was MI6, but after the op in Somalia and the ambush in Iran, we’re sure it’s CIS.”
“What about the ambush in Iran?” Justin said. He looked at the documents still resting under Adams’s big palm. Adams’s eyes caught Justin’s gaze, but he made no effort to hand over the reports.
“How did al-Shabaab know about your position? Your timing of the operation? The defector you were picking up? They had advance notice, plenty of advance notice to send in a sniper team and lie in wait for your arrival,” Adams said.
Justin flinched as if someone had slapped him across the face. No one had revealed that information to Adams or anyone else in the CIA. They had been told only that Justin had fallen into a trap, and the defector was dead. Besides Nathan, only three people knew about my mission in Iran: McClain, the Minister of Defense, and the Prime Minister.
“You’ve got a leak, and you need to plug it. Fast.” Hu gestured toward the folder with his hands. His voice had the unmistakable tone of a demand, not a simple suggestion or request.
Adams looked at Hu, seemingly unpleased with his intervention. Justin formed the impression Adams wanted to be the one to give such an order.
“It threatens the lives of all operatives, yours, but ours as well, especially when we run joint operations,” Adams said. “This double agent may be working for CIS, but he likely has access to information we and our partners exchange with Canada. Here are the files.” He slid the folders across the table.
Justin flipped the cover. The folder contained transcripts, reports, and assessments by NCS’s operations officers. He scanned through the paragraphs, then moved to a few aerial photographs and pictures of various al-Shabaab members. He recognized some of the names underneath the faces.
“Why hasn’t NCS already taken action?” Justin closed the folder and passed it to Carrie.
“Because it’s not our jo—” Hu began, but Adams cut him off with a dismissive hand.
“What my colleague was trying to say was that we consider this an opportunity to inform the CIS early about this breach and the need to find this traitor. This is us taking action, and it’s a chance to avoid a media scandal. You don’t need the publicity.”
Justin nodded. Memories of two recent cases of spies for the Russians discovered within the Canadian Army were still fresh. Initially alerted by the FBI and then by the CIA, the Army had largely ignored their warnings. Turf wars and national pride had cost Canada six months of spilled secrets to the Russian military intelligence.
“And this will involve some action on the ground in Somalia,” Adams continued. “After the SEALs mission, it’s very unlikely the President will order an operation against al-Shabaab in Somalia in the near future.”