“I’m afraid and brave at the same time, Emily,” as Ford wiped his cheek. “I am mourning of the future loss of an extended family member, while thinking about his request. But I want you to know… I love you. A lot.”
“I love you, too, Ford.”
Emily and Ford walked into the cubicle area to see Mark and Robert hunched over their computers, drinking their Starbucks, and talking about the morning news cycle.
“Well, well, well. Good morning,” Mark said, holding up his coffee as if he were toasting. “Got you guys a few coffees over there on the table.”
The couple walked over to the center office table that was full of everything from spare plastic forks to extra packets of ketchup to outdated magazines. Extra food was always available on the table, too, and this morning was no exception with the bagels provided. “Thank you,” was heard in unison.
Mark spun around in his seat. “Let’s get right into this. Ford, you are already cleared at the Top Secret level. We’ll have WHIRLPOOL be designated a formal operational code name and have the security folks grant you the level over at Air Force Reserve. Would that work?” Mark asked.
Ford thought about it, and nodded up and down to reflect yes. “Yeah, that should work. We’ll have to work on orders, too. Ah, at least in the Front Office of the Chief of Air Force Reserve. Cannot imagine them allowing me to stay on-board unless some calls are made with a by-name request. I’m standing here now because I’m on leave, but it’ll never be approved long term without some firepower from above. Like your Mr. Burns calling over, maybe?” Ford answered, thinking of the bureaucracy in his organization.
“Yeah, done. We can worry about that later,” Mark said, wanting to switch gears. “Let's take a neutral look at the facts we have so far, and then after that let's do some brainstorming on the three phases that I mentioned yesterday. First off, does anyone have any reservations now that they've slept on this?” Mark asked the team, sipping on his coffee and looking around the group. They were all sitting now in a circle, previously moving their seats, consciously or unconsciously, to a collaborative setting. None of the group members said a word.
“Good, no reservations. How about CI? Is anyone questioning this Op from a CI… a counter-intelligence issue?” Mark asked again, but no replies. “This morning I read the reports from Chris and FBI Vic over at the Consulate, including their psychological profile. This adds to Robert’s assessment. Everyone thinks this is a legit mission and a go,” Mark continued, ensuring that the decision making was by consensus. Mark wanted to ensure all voices were heard, which was why ample opportunity was provided to speak freely. He also knew this was the early morning, on a weekend, so ideas would not flow as easily as another time.
“You guys are a tough crowd this morning. Like the first pew in church,” Mark said out loud, as he got up to add some more sugar to his coffee from the community table.
“Stick it up your arse, Mark, it is bloody early, after all. We are all on board with the plan. Just need to wake up a bit and work on the details,” Emily commented, sipping on her coffee, and really wishing it was English Breakfast Tea.
“So, let's break this problem down. First, we have to answer some critical questions, ones which will provide the context. This will require brainstorming. Robert, you’re our scribe, so pull over that white board and the dry erase markers,” Mark directed, taking the leadership role.
Robert pulled over the wooden framed, two sided, academic looking white dry erase board. He started to put the date on the board with one of the black markers available, only to find it was dry. He dumped that one in the trash, and used the purple one instead.
“First question… let’s brainstorm on phase one… how Ford is going to get into China? Brainstorming only, so no negative comments. All ideas are valid. Go.”
For a few seconds there were no ideas coming. The room was pretty quiet, then Robert started. “Commercial shipping vessel.”
“Cruise ship,” Mark offered. “Ahh, a crossing from a border country.”
“Commercial airline… as a passenger,” said Emily.
Robert was busy writing everything down under a heading of ‘Into China’. Ford thought it was refreshing to see, using old school board and markers, thinking back to his early flying days. The squadrons were all using PowerPoint slides, which he thought took away from the expeditionary nature of flying. The younger pilots were concerned with the look of the slides and who they were briefing before a flight, rather than the content and quality of the information in the brief itself. Perhaps it was a generational thing, Ford thought, considering Baby Boomers, GenX, and GenY/Millennials could all be in the same Air Wing together.
“Back of a military jet”, Ford said.
“Piloting a military jet,” Robert offered.
“Shite! A private business jet crew member!” Emily yelled, laughing.
“Through Europe or India… or Nepal… or even Burma. On a train. Rail,” Mark said.
About 20 seconds passed without any more ideas. They went around the room one more time, and all their ideas were written out on the board. The concept was still in Mark’s head that Ford had to infiltrate China because if there was any leak of this, and sometimes there was in clandestine activities, Ford would be captured for sure. Mark did not want that on his hands.
“Nice. Nice. Let’s tackle some of these ideas, and cross off the ones that will most likely not work. Without looking at the list again, we all have to keep in mind that we have a timing issue. Timing, meaning that we don’t have a lot of it because of Wu’s health. Our doctor verified his records, as we know, so we only have days or weeks to pull this off,” Mark shared.
Ford looked strangely at Mark. “What doctor? I know you mentioned it briefly last night, but what doctor?” he asked.
“Ford, we electronically intercepted Wu’s emails recently and saw the medical records that the hospital sent him. We had our DIA medical doctor review the records to ensure that… Wu was telling the truth,” Emily told him.
“What, you don’t trust him?” Ford asked, questioning them. “Look at the guy. He’s sick, okay?”
“Ford, we understand. At the time, we did not know Wu, and only had raw intelligence without analysis and context. We believe him,” she shared. She placed her hand on his, whispering to him “It will be okay, love.”
Mark paused for a moment. “We certainly have a timing issue in which we need Ford there sooner rather than later. Wu has three months, maybe two, right? The second phase, which we can talk about next, is once Ford gets in there, we have to link him up with Wu and the Devil Dragon. A rendezvous.”
Robert stepped away from his writing on the board. He looked at the list twice. “The train and shipping ideas most likely won't work, but again, I am brainstorming. They seem to be too slow for this mission.”
Mark stood up and walked over to the list. “He should not take commercial jet travel because his name will be all over the manifests. If we get caught doing this, and a link is made to the U.S., our DIA fingerprints will be all over it. Pretty sure that method won’t work. Leads folks back to us”
“I could fly on a military aircraft, say a C-17 mission, under the premise of Embassy support or USAID mission? Or into another country close-by?” Ford offered out loud, but changed his mind quickly. “I guess that would only get me so far. How would I get from Taiwan… or Korea or even Japan, across the water? That idea won't work either.”
It was quiet once again, and Emily kept reviewing the list. Then an idea hit her, and she turned her head to the side. “Hey. I got it. I kind of like… the business jet idea. How about he flies over on a business jet as a passenger and gets out at the airport of destination? We control the point of departure.”