“You were right, the two groups are getting complacent, but that is only the part of the problem. One of the agency’s people is communicating in code to someone in Europe and using the JBG system and Google mail to do it.”
“It looks like a report on activities. Whatever it is, the code is not being generated on JBG’s computer; there is no trace of it. He is probably using a laptop and a thumb drive to add the attachment to the email. It is always being done at the same time – 2 AM on Tuesdays and Fridays – after an exchange in emails. The email looks like it is a drop box for him only.”
“The computers are working on the code; we should have it broken soon. The guy’s name is Randolph Reichmann and he has a file in Genie; not a good file either. Mosad has him flagged as for hire, to the highest bidder, the Russians in the past and now the Iranians or possibly Pakistan.”
“How in the hell is he working for the agency?” Robert asked.
“I don’t know. Let’s see what he is sending and maybe we can figure out to whom as soon as you break code.” I replied.
“Maybe he is really working for Mosad and that is his cover and the way they throw anyone off the trail. For all the information they have on the area, they have to have someone on the inside at a lot of places,” I replied.
“The next problem is we know for sure Diya is the leader and the attack is going to happen in two weeks from today. They have been practicing both the assault on the campus and building the suicide vests and other bombs that they are going to use at a farm a hundred miles from the city,” Robert said.
“I say that because they referenced an hour and a half travel time in a couple of their communications. When they go there they either remove the batteries or leave the phones in the city and the GPS is turned off on the phones. I did find out that the explosives were stolen from a mining company in Canada. They have commercial grade stuff.”
“Diya has made one mistake; he left his computer on just a few minutes too long. There was enough time for us to hack it, there was only one file on it. He is using a portable hard drive or a large thumb drive with a different operating system to hold his files,” Robert said as he handed me a drawing that I knew as soon as I saw it to be of the college grounds; it indicated the points were his group were planning on hitting.
“Thanks Robert; keep digging, you gave me a lot to digest,” I replied.
There was a lot to digest and a million questions. I needed and wanted a lot more information on Randolph Reichmann. Was he a plant? Was the agency working with Mosad? If not, did the agency know and were they following the crumb trail to see where it would lead them?
DNA and fingerprints would help. With Ching Lee in my office, I called Sherman Rommel again on the speaker phone.
“Now I am getting worried,” Sherman replied after I said hello.
“Randolph Reichmann; is there any way you can get me DNA and fingerprints from him without him knowing?” I asked.
“He sheds like a dog; I can get hair from his jacket, he leaves it hanging in his locker. The fingerprints may be a different story. Wait a minute, he drinks a lot of ice tea; brings it with him and uses the plastic cups from the lunch room. He puts his initials on them; there are always several in the trashcan by his desk,” Sherman replied.
“Use latex gloves to collect it so you don’t contaminate it, put each of them in a separate zip-lock bag and next day air it to me. Do not get caught,” I said.
“Can you tell me what is going on?” Sherman asked.
“No, not at the moment; it is several steps above your pay grade and almost above mine. As soon as I have answers I can share, I will. Be careful with what you say and to whom – keep everything close to your chest,” I said.
Those two things may answer a few questions because I was going to run them through the State Departments system – along with his picture – to see if I received different information.
The lab that our Docs used could convert the hair sample to digital readout and I was sure I could get someone from the Sheriff’s department to lift the fingerprint from the cup.
I wondered if the task force had access to Interpol data? I would ask Jenny in a few minutes.
The next piece of the puzzle was to find Andy and start looking at options. In my mind there were options but all of them were complicated.
The number one thing was to get plenty of people to the college in advance in case the plans were moved up, and do it in a way that didn’t set off alarm bells.
The complicated things were immense! I needed to decide at what point to bring in law enforcement; to go it alone and have it go bad would be suicide.
Then there was which law enforcement to bring in – with Reichmann working for the agency, which put a cloud over them, at least temporarily.
Going to the Minneapolis police was out of the question. With Diya’s father the mayor and cousin the chief of police, at the first whimper all the participants would just disappear into the fog of the community and wait.
The best bet was with Eric and the DHS; it wasn’t his area but I knew he could still work there with a phone call. The good part was only a few of the undercover agents there were DHS.
That in it self raised red flags; the agency – by law – was not supposed to be doing any work inside the US, but then who really knew for sure after all the rule changes after 9-11.
Andy arrived after I sent him a text that I needed to see him. I started at the beginning with the players at 515. I put out all the documentation that we had; it was a long conversation.
I explained the double checks I was doing on Randolph Reichmann before I approached the agency.
“I want you to find that sign and rip it up,” Andy said.
“The one that says, “Come attack me,” he replied.
“I will take 10 of the RRT there tomorrow with tools, I will also rent a motor home to park on one of the campus lots to use as command headquarters, unless there is a house to rent really close by,” he said.
“Call and schedule 3 or 4 SUVs for us to use from the rental agency and motel rooms for at least two or three nights,” he said.
“As soon as we get good eyes on the place and a plan, I will send for the rest of crew.”
“I will fly out with them and tell Sherman that an onsite audit, evaluation and training exercise is going on with the RRT there for a couple of weeks,” Ching Lee replied then added, “I will fly back with the jet.”
With that everyone left to go home. Ching Lee and I spent another half hour on the phone getting motel rooms, SUVs and the flight out arranged with Lorrie.
When we got over to the house, supper was already on the table; an old staple; home-made subs and soup.
The evening went to the rest and relax mode with surprises and then bigger surprises. The boys had started crawling a month ago; just little bits and spurts, pushing themselves up. They seemed very competitive with each other and could really talk baby gibberish to each other, almost like they were telling each other a story.
They were in the crib sleeping when supper started and we were nearly done when the gibberish started, telling us they were awake and wanted attention. Then a series of rattles that caused all of to bolt into the living room where we kept the day crib.
Both boys were standing, holding on to the sides the keep from falling and in the process, shaking the crib side to side in its latches.
“Pictures,” as phones came out and finished before their little legs gave out.
“You said that when they could stand we could plan on having another. I’m ready – I want to be next,” Lorrie said as she gave us a group hug.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.