“Do you know anyone in China?” asked Agent Collins.
Ford squinted his eyes. “China? Yeah. I used to live there. My father had a job with Shell Oil… and, ah, we lived there when I was a teenager. Why?”
“What else?” Agent Collins asked, perusing something else from Ford.
“Don’t answer a question with a question. What do you mean ‘what else’? What is it you’re looking for?”
“We’re asking the questions here, Captain.”
“Spit it out then. What do you want?”
“Do you know someone named Wu Lee? Captain Wu Lee?”
Ford just about melted. What’s going with Wu, he thought, as he looked at all the agents now in the eye. “Of course I know, Wu. He’s one of my best friends. Why? Is he all right? Is he in trouble?”
More silent treatment of the FBI Agents. Ford noticed this one guy Collins was doing all the talking, while the others observed. The other suit, Roberto, took notes on a small pad and hockey jersey guy Klein just looked Ford up and down.
“Not exactly,” said Agent Collins.
“Then you three Keystone Cops better tell me what the fuck is going on, or I’m getting the hell out of here. Quit the good cop, bad cop bullshit routine you learned at Quantico and spit it out already,” Ford told them, obviously agitated at the way they were questioning him. The three to one ratio was uncomfortable, too, and, of course, done on purpose by the Agents.
“Your friend, Chinese Air Force Captain Wu Lee, entered a U.S. Consulate in China not too long ago, asking to speak to a U.S. intelligence officer. After some folks there talked with him, it turns out his request was only to speak with you, by name, using a secure video teleconference,” Collins explained.
Ford closed his eyes. He remembered the Wu texts now, and the email he did not read. He grabbed his cell phone, and wanted to see what the unread email was. “Wu did?” asked Ford, and did not receive an answer. Ford quickly took out his phone and read the email about Wu’s sister. His sister? It was starting to make sense somewhat, but plenty of details were lost on him. “What does he want to talk to me about that he couldn’t text, or email… or call me about?” Ford asked.
“He didn’t say, and we aren’t speculating. Whatever it is though, it must be big, if he is risking being a walk-in to a U.S. Consulate,” Special Agent Roberto answered.
Ford thought long and hard about what Wu was up to, but there were so many combinations running around in his head that to guess would lead to nowhere. What on earth does Wu want? And the sister thing really puzzled him.
“Yeah, so… what are we doing about it?” Ford asked. “We have a hockey game starting any minute, and I have my girlfriend meeting me here. Am I talking to Wu or what?”
“Our U.S. Consulate point of contact asked us to verify that you were even present at the game, and to verify that you know this Lee guy,” Collins said, “and we’ve already contacted them and are currently waiting to see what they want to do next.”
“Well, I’m here. I don’t know how the fuck you knew I was here, but I am. I’ve verified and I know him. Get me a secure video chat or whatever you’re calling it. Let’s get this bullshit dog and pony show on the road or I’m sitting back down,” Ford told them.
“Calm down, Captain.”
“Look, just hurry the fuck up.”
Robert combed through the cell phone report and could see the calls this specific phone placed outbound and received, the emails sent and received using a Yahoo account, as well as the texts sent and received. It was a gold mine of data that would normally take hours, but with the aide of computers, was going to take just minutes. The cross-mapping of data associated with the phone number would easily be laid out in a picture form, like a mind-map, and displayed on a PowerPoint slide for briefing purposes.
“Look at this. The phone was at all these towers, here, here, and all the way over here,” Mark said, pointing to a map that displayed where the ground cell tower picked up the phone. “If I hold up this pen, like this… check this out. Like a straight line.”
Emily took a good, long look at it now. “The cell phone must have been inside the aircraft, or in his pocket, when he was flying. As the aircraft came closer to the tower, the signal was picked up,” Emily said, looking at the time and date stamps from just one day of data. “Sporadic hits from altitude, but they’re there.”
The speeds of this aircraft were like nothing they had ever seen before. To fly this fast would mean the aircraft would have to have very special engines, a sleek design, and climb to abnormal altitudes normally not seen flown by manned aircraft. While the cell data was only an indication, the accumulation of information they were coming across was painting a picture of a remarkable aircraft.
Robert was scrolling through the raw phone numbers and saw that he, or she, did not call that folks. What Robert did notice was a few phone numbers to and from the United States.
“This guy is in contact with someone in a 605 area code” Robert said, looking at Google. “That’s …..ah….South Dakota, eh, Rapid City.”
Emily immediately perked up. “Really? That’s where my boyfriend lives. He’s an Air Force B-1 pilot up at the Ellsworth Air Force Base.”
“Ooohhh, Emily has a boyfriend…” Mark teased her. She gave him a dirty look and was ready with a comeback until Jason walked in.
Jason stood outside their doorway and shared with them that the Deputy was finishing his call with the DNI. Mark replied that they would all meet back in the conference room in a few minutes, and they would be ready.
“Stop teasing me, Mark. You’d get a girlfriend one day if you wore more than that cut off sleeves Nationals jersey and a turned around baseball hat,” Emily snapped back at him, humorously. “Get rid of the man bun. Shave once in a while, too. The unshaven look is so… so George Michael of the 80’s.”
“Ouch,” Jason said, listening in to the banter.
Mark and Emily began walking back to the conference room together, with Emily laughing at Mark and his choice of dress. Robert stayed behind just a few seconds longer, looking at the phone number report, and thought of why a Chinese pilot was in constant contact with someone from Rapid City. The chances of him calling a relative were slim, and Robert hit Google for the demographics in the event the Deputy asked. Last census had 68,957 residents of Rapid City, and only 1.2 percent were Asian. Robert also acknowledged to himself that an assumption was that the potential Chinese pilot was calling someone else who was Chinese. That’s only 204 people if this pilot was calling another Asian. Either way, with only 68,000 people, he’d have answers in seconds from the cell phone records software database.
“Yo, this China pilot guy has 56 texts to the Rapid City citizen, just this month alone!” Robert yelled in.
Robert was waiting for the software to cross-check the name of the cell phone in China and received the report. Certainly, the meta-data argument was playing out in the United States press regarding the collection of U.S. citizen data, but overseas, it was a different story. It wasn’t a want, but a need. The Chinese number was registered to provider China Unicom Limited, with the customer named Wu Lee. He then read the Rapid City, South Dakota 605 area code number to see what the person’s name was. This cell phone provider was Sprint, and the customer was named Ford A. Stevens. Both street addresses were included, in addition to their billing payments.
“Who the hell are Wu Lee and Ford Stevens?” Robert said quietly. He punched up the Stevens cell number into the software and wanted to see who Ford Stevens was in contact with, just to cross-reference the Stevens cell with their database. Perhaps the Stevens number was connected with other known associates? Robert thought.