She arched her eyebrow. “And do you recall how you came about this information?”
Sam grinned. “Yes.”
The secretary of defense took a deep breath, her face plastered with relief. “Do you have documented proof that you believe will validate what you say here today?”
Sam said, “I believe so.”
She smiled. “Please tell the committee what you know.”
Sam said, “I was granted the unique opportunity to work for the Russian Mafia, known as the Bratva, as a skipper on board what is known as a Ghost Ship.”
The Secretary said, “Please inform the committee what a Ghost Ship is, Mr. Reilly.”
“A Ghost Ship is a particular term that criminal organizations use for a ship that looks dilapidated but is actually a technologically advanced ship inside, often used to serve as the hub for a high-powered internet server, known as a Dark Web.”
The judge asked, “And what is the purpose of the Dark Web?”
“To host a secret and highly illegal marketplace.”
The Secretary said, “And the Ghost Ship?”
“Its purpose was to provide the physical location of the server, with the ability to regularly move its location, with the added benefit of being able to be sunk in the event that the authorities attempted to board it.”
The Secretary continued. “And what was your purpose?”
Sam said, “I provided the most advanced Ghost Ship in existence.”
“How did that come about?”
“The Bratva’s leading computer hacker, a woman called Zoya Rasputin had sought me out through mutual connections to construct the Ghost Ship.”
The Secretary said, “For the record, how did you, a well-respected man in the maritime world, come to work for the Bratva?”
“There was a concern that if I didn’t take the job, someone else might… and I could offer a unique insight into the deadly world of the Russian Mafia. It was my hope that I might gather information to possibly shut it down.”
The Secretary nodded, happy to keep the fact that she had specifically requested him to spy on the Russians in exchange for American amnesty for Zoya, a permanent secret. Instead, she turned her questioning to Zoya Rasputin. “And the computer hacker, Zoya Rasputin, what was your relationship to her?”
Sam’s eyes flashed with anger and loss at the name, but he answered truthfully. “She was my lover. I was trying to get her not just out of Russia, but away from the Bratva — a task that required me to shut down the criminal organization once and for all.”
“And that was what motivated you to accept the position?”
Sam nodded. “Yes.”
The Secretary paused. She closed her eyes, took a breath, opened them again, and said, “Tell the court what you discovered about the massacre at the Durand Line, while on board the Ghost Ship.”
Sam bit his lower lip. What he was about to say would change a lot of lives. Most of all, it was about to ruin the life of the person who had betrayed him the most. Sam said, “The illegal marketplace on board the Dark Web, hosted by the Ghost Ship, allowed criminals from around the world to make deals with each other. One of those deals specifically pertained to the massacre at the Durand Line, with a specific request.”
The Secretary said, “Go on.”
Sam said, “The request was made by an Avatar — an icon used on internet forums to conceal the true identity of the user — to Igor Mihailovich, the head of the Russian Bratva.”
She asked, “What was the request?”
“A large shipment of AK-47s, M249 light machine guns, and RPGs were offered in exchange for the Bratva to organize within its criminal links to Afghanistan, for an attack on Pashtun civilians.”
The Secretary persisted, “For what purpose?”
“The Avatar’s goal was for an international public outcry, with the subsequent result being that the US peace keeping forces would be obliged to move into the Duran Line, and set up a permanent base.”
The Secretary held her breath. “Are you in possession of the Avatar’s true identity?”
“Yes, Madam Secretary.”
She nodded. “Who, then, are you accusing of being responsible for the deaths of more than a hundred Pashtun civilians?”
Sam lowered his eyes, “Craig Martin, director of the CIA.”
Chapter Sixty-Five
When the commotion from the International Criminal Court subsided, Sam was brought out through a secret passageway to avoid the crowd of reporters outside.
Alone with the secretary of defense he said, “It’s over now, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “It’s over.”
“And Craig Martin?”
“He’s being arrested at his home, as we speak. He will deny everything. It will be a lengthy trial, behind firmly closed doors, but in the end, the evidence you gathered will see him charged. As for Igor Mihailovich… our Russian counterparts are allegedly trying to locate him, although I doubt they will have much luck in that regard.”
Sam agreed. “It’s unlikely they’ll ever find him.”
A wry smile formed on her lips. “I see…”
Sam said, “I understand Craig Martin illegally formed an alliance with Igor Mihailovich in order to achieve legal support for placing our base in a strategically important position…”
“Go on…”
Sam said, “Hell, I can even understand how the director might believe that he was doing the right thing by supporting his country. What I don’t understand is how he did it without any assistance from the Pentagon…”
The secretary of defense said, “What are you asking me, Mr. Reilly?”
“When you first asked me to spy on the Russians, did you have any idea that my investigation would end up entailing one of our own people? Or was that an unfortunate consequence? Was I an inconvenience to the Pentagon?”
Her jaw was set firm. “What, specifically, are you asking me?”
“Did you intervene in my execution by telling Director Craig Martin that I was too valuable an asset for you to lose?”
She stared at him. Her emerald green eyes an opaque mystery, her lips remaining locked.
Sam continued. “More importantly, did you tell him that you could convince me to have my memory wiped using technology developed during the old CIA Project MKUltra?”
The secretary of defense said, “You know Project MKUltra was a failure and all research was wiped back in 1971?”
It was as much of a confession as Sam was going to get.
The fact was his government needed the base in Afghanistan, directly along the Durand Line. But they never would have received the support of the UN if they had simply taken it by force without international sanction. They needed there to be a humanitarian crisis.
Igor Mihailovich provided that crisis most likely in exchange for US made weapons.
The director of the CIA had made the deal with the devil without formally informing anyone. There was no doubt the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the secretary of defense, and the president of the USA all knew the truth.
Craig Martin, by not officially informing anyone, had maintained a stop gap. A safety net, in case the truth came out. He was going to prison for a long time. But he was doing it for his country. He was wrong. But Sam could respect that.
Sam suppressed a smile. “Madam Secretary…”
“Yes, Mr. Reilly?”
Sam grinned. “Thank you for saving my life.”
The secretary of defense said, “You’re welcome.”
Chapter Sixty-Six
Sam Reilly woke up in bed with a jolt.
He was staying in a luxury penthouse overlooking the harbor. A little bit of much needed decadence after seventy-two hours of hell. Lying next to him, still asleep, was Catarina Marcello. She wore a red negligee which hugged her voluptuous figure.