“Well, we have time to kill. I’m going to check the reports from Fort Meade. Let’s see what NSA has,” Mark said, heading towards their cubicle area.
The National Security Agency was responsible for global monitoring, collection, and processing of information for foreign intelligence and counterintelligence purposes. It was possible they intercepted a signal from the area that was not picked up by the aircraft. Mark also thought to check the flight reports again, to see if any new ones were published since they last checked.
Scrolling through, nothing was new in three locations on the websites. He checked a fourth, scrolling his mouse down to the end of the page to see if there were anything to catch his attention. Mark’s eyes squinted, he focused, and then slowly smiled ear to ear.
“Hey you guys, come here, take a look at this! A Navy P-3 Orion crew out of Myanmar found a needle in the haystack,” Mark said.
Emily came over and looked over Mark’s shoulder, eyes opened wide, with a look of surprise on her face. “Does this match with what you guys had earlier?”
“Whoa. Better. This shows a potential aircraft with… 600 degree temperatures? What the hell is that? Aw, man… this also shows the actual cell numbers from the phone on our stealth jet. The pilot, or someone else, had their cell phone powered up and it was communicating with the cell towers. This also shows all the calls, texts, and emails the person made,” Mark explained, looking at the links available that connected all the cell data.
Over the past four years or so, the Chinese telecommunications industry had exploded and expanded rapidly. While some communities and villages struggled to have electricity and running water, millions of citizens had smart phones. This enabled them to not only stay connected with family and some current events, but allowed unique options such as telemedicine and digital currency. The same concept had worked successfully in places like India and Ghana. Chinese corporate strategists saw the opportunity and started building cell towers across the nation, enabling the technology.
“Bollocks… that’s a hot aircraft skin temp, yes?” Emily asked, but the men didn’t answer.
Robert nodded.
“Speculative because it’s only a potential aircraft. The win in the cards could be the phone data. Let’s take a look at who he’s talking to,” Emily told them.
Chris came back to 143A, put down his pad and turned to Vic. “What do you think, Vic?”
“Well, he was as calm as a cucumber. As you know, we get some walk-ins that are freaking fruitcakes, an others are peeing in their pants. This guy has nerves of steel. Even sarcastic. Not showing any tells. Up front with his boss’s name, which validates who he is, in a way. Files show also has a robust U.S. travel past, according to the DHS and State Department databases,” Vic said, sharing his observations.
“Wonder what he knows. What does he have to tell this Ford Stevens guy?” Chris wondered.
Vic was able to search some other databases from the computer terminal in the room. He ran Wu’s fingerprints through IAFIS and the new NextGen System, and as well as Wu’s voice through an analysis system. They turned up nothing. “He’s negative on prints and voice recognition,” Vic announced.
The FBI’s Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System, or IAFIS, is a national fingerprint and criminal history software system that law enforcement officials can check to solve crimes, catch criminals, as well as terrorists and other bad apples. The system provides automated fingerprint searches, background search capability, mug shots, legal records, image storage, and electronic exchange of fingerprints. Criminal histories are also stored there, as well as crime scene shots, scar and tattoo photos, and physical characteristics like height, weight, and hair and eye color, in addition to aliases. One stop shopping for the FBI.
“Got it. What about the Janken cameras?” Chris asked.
The new Janken Camera System was developed from a Japanese robot that was originally used to play the game of rock-paper-scissors. It was a high-speed camera that measured Wu’s eye movements and human reflexes. The recording was then uploaded into a computer and verified things like the shape of Wu’s hand, the angle of his wrist, and micro-movement of the fingers, to verify if he was telling the truth.
Janken also measured Wu’s micro-expressions, recording his emotion of distress, and searched for his eyebrows being drawn upwards towards the middle of the forehead. This movement would indicate and show short lines to appear across the skin of the forehead, adding data to tell if Wu was telling the truth. Same thing with eyes and eye contact, in addition to speech patterns, sweating, stuttering, hesitating, rocking, rhythm, or erratic arm movements. The system captured it all.
“From what I can tell, this guy is for real, Chris. Janken repoortedd negative results, too.”
Wu sat in the room for at least ten minutes alone, then his phone vibrated, notifying him he had a text. He looked at the text message coming in and smiled after seeing it was from Ford. Wu read it and put it down on the table. The timing is excellent, he thought.
Wu stood up in the meeting room and walked towards the door. Placing his hand on the doorknob, he tried to rotate it, but it was locked. He turned around and walked over to the two-way glass and tapped on the window with his index finger twice, then waving with his hand and motioned for Chris to come back in to the interview room.
“Our guy is up and around… wants us. Maybe he’s having second thoughts, huh? Something’s up,” Vic said. “Hey, I’m on board with his request. This is interesting to me. Let’s see what this guy wants with Stevens.”
“Alright, then, let’s see what the Captain is up to,” Chris told them.
Chris exited the small room, went down the hall first to grab two cold sodas from the refrigerator, and then entered the interview room again where Wu was seated.
“Yes, Captain Lee, what is it?” Chris asked, extending him a cold soda as he opened one. Chris’s soda move was pure psychology at this point, a technique he learned while training in the Camp Peary course at Williamsburg, Virginia. In social psychology, this ‘reciprocity’ social rule was where we should repay, in kind, what someone else has given to us. Someone will give back to you the kind of treatment they have received from you. The rule of reciprocity translates that we are obligated to repay favors in the future, and Chris was hoping the soda was opening the door for information.
“I found Ford. I know where he is,” Wu blurted out.
Chris laughed because it didn’t take long for Wu to speak. “You do? Where is he?”
“Washington, DC. He is attending your NHL Washington Capitals hockey game. Right now. He is seated in Section 101, Row M, Seat 1. Behind Visitors Bench.”
How the fuck does he know that? Chris did not know what to say, and thought that this guy Lee has his crap together. “Thank you, Captain Lee. I’ll be back. Let me continue look into what our options are. Would that be all right?”
“He’s at a hockey game, not sleeping there for the weekend. You don’t have that much time,” Wu answered.
Chris left Wu and came back in the room 143A. He gave a thumb’s up sign with his hand, pointing through the glass to Wu, and told Vic “get a load of this guy, Lee.”
FBI Supervisory Special Agent Vic Damone recently finished a three-year tour at the Washington Field Office, the WFO, just this past summer. Vic worked in the Counterintelligence Division in the Asia Directorate, and knew the DC streets and National Capitol Region very well. He put his head down, nodded, and then looked up at Chris, after thinking of the Verizon Center’s location in proximity to the WFO.