Fifth Cell (eBook)

Chapter 1

The beating of the blades of a Blackhawk helicopter thundered as it passed low overhead the remote cabin nestled in the foothills along the eastern slope of the Rockies in Wolf Creek, Montana. Bert Rizzo knew the sound all too well from more than three decades in the Central Intelligence Agency. He made his way to the small window over his kitchen sink and watched as the helicopter began a slow turn and found a landing spot in the gravel of Willamette road at the end of his drive. The dust swirled as the engine slowed and the door swung open. The blue FBI jacket came into view as a female agent emerged and headed up the driveway toward the cabin. Bert mumbled, “Oh shit,” as he wondered just what the hell this was going to be about.

Bert hurried over to the stove to remove the pan with an omelet that was nearly finished. Turning off the burner, he moved the pan to the rear, hoping that he could get back to breakfast quickly. He watched as the young agent made her way onto his small porch. He had enough time to grab the bottle of Canadian Club and poured a glass before he heard the knock. A few months retired from the CIA; Bert figured that this visit wasn’t going to be good news.

Before answering the door, Bert took a long swallow of his whiskey and then opened the door partway. “Awful early for the FBI to be visiting out this way in the middle of nowhere,” he growled.

“You are Bert Rizzo?” the female agent asked, thrusting her identification as Special Agent Angelica Dougherty through the slim opening.

“If you flew all the way out here in that Blackhawk and I’m not Bert Rizzo, that would be unnerving. So yes. What can I do for you, Agent Dougherty?” Bert didn’t open the door any further as he looked over the agent on his doorstep. Angelica Dougherty stood about 5’10” with long dark hair and deep green eyes. Bert guessed she was in her early thirties.

“I’m sorry for the early morning intrusion,” Dougherty offered. “I need a few minutes to ask a couple of questions on an urgent matter. Can I come in?” She paused, waiting for a response. When there was none, she stepped closer and stared intensely at Rizzo. “Please!” she asked sternly.

Rizzo nodded and opened the door. He guided her into the kitchen area and pulled out one of the kitchen table chairs for her to sit. He moved to the stove area and pulled a second glass from the overhead cupboard. “Can I get you a drink?” he asked quietly as he showed her the bottle of whiskey. Before she could say anything, he poured her a full glass and filled his own to the top. He slid into the chair across from the obtrusive agent, gauging her as he stared. His instinct to be able to tell a lot about a person by their demeanor kicked in. It wasn’t easy to turn off the years of training he had just left. He set her glass down and took a sip from his. “Drink up, agent.”

Dougherty slid the glass to the side. “Maybe later,” she replied. “I’d like to get to my purpose for coming this morning, if you don’t mind.”

Bert took a deep draw of whiskey, sensing that Dougherty was a confident, or perhaps even cocky, young agent. She wasn’t an easy read. “Well, go ahead and get right to it.”

“I spoke with an old acquaintance of yours yesterday,” Dougherty said, matter-of-factly. “He is an FBI anti-terror consultant. Retired Army Captain Christopher Ballard. He said you’d remember him.”

Rizzo took another long drink. After wiping his chin with his shirt sleeve, he nodded affirmatively. “I know Captain Ballard but it was a long time ago.”

“Three decades ago?”

“About that. Although we did meet about ten years ago in Virginia. He was in DC at the same conference I attended. We spent a few minutes on small talk and reminiscing a little.”

“So, tell me about the mission thirty years ago,” Dougherty pulled a security clearance document from the Director of National Security authorizing Rizzo to speak with her regarding the clandestine mission in Afghanistan.

Rizzo studied the document for a minute. He finished reading it then turned it face down on the table and slid it back to Dougherty. Waiting to see her reaction to his silence, he got up and grabbed the Canadian Club bottle from the counter and returned to his seat. After there was no response and he deemed by her stare that she wasn’t easily shaken, he broke the silence. “If we’re going to have this conversation you need to drink up. I know I do!” He pointed to her glass and finished what remained in his before filling his glass again.

Dougherty grabbed the glass she had set aside and took a deep gulp. She slapped the half-full glass down on the table and grabbed the bottle to fill it up. “Okay, start from the beginning.”

Bert responded with a brief grin as Dougherty finished filling her glass. “I have to ask what the FBI’s interest is in a three-decade-old failed mission. Why now?”

Dougherty paused. She had to be careful. “I can’t say much except to say it’s an ongoing investigation.”

“Don’t you think that after thirty-five years serving my country in the CIA with a security clearance that I’m sure is much higher than yours that I deserve better than that? If you think that I’m going to accept that answer, you’re wrong, despite your goddamn letter!” Rizzo grabbed the security clearance document in front of Dougherty, tore it in half and tossed it into the air.

Dougherty didn’t flinch. She calmly took another drink and rose out of the chair. She slowly removed her jacket and swiped at a spot on the bright yellow FBI emblem. She carefully draped it over the back of her chair and took her seat. Staring at Rizzo, she spoke softly, “You know, everyone told me you were an asshole. I said that you couldn’t be as bad as the stories they told. I guess I was wrong. You’re every bit as bad as they said. Let me be clear, Rizzo. I’m not leaving here until I get what I need from you. I’ve spent my career handling bullies and you’re not as tough as you think. In fact, you don’t even come close in comparison to the jerks I’ve handled. So, what do you say we quit this back-and-forth and get to the matter? The sooner you tell me what you know the faster I get back on that Blackhawk and out of your hair!”

Bert looked her up and down. He admired her gumption. He definitely wanted to know more about her background but decided now wasn’t the time to press. “All right. Do you want to split a cold omelet before I start?” Bert pointed to the stove.

Dougherty smiled briefly before shaking her head no. She took her glass, raised it and tapped it to Rizzo’s. She took another swallow and then pulled a note pad from her jacket pocket.

Rizzo began solemnly and was staring out into the distance past Dougherty. “Captain Ballard led a special forces unit stationed at a secret base called Camp Forward Evac located on the Afghan-Pakistan border close to the Tora Bora mountains. I had placed a secret listening base in the Tora Bora western slope a few months before. We were searching for intel trying to locate Bin Laden and to seek actionable intel on Taliban insurgents.” Rizzo paused and looked right toward the kitchen window.

Dougherty spotted the wetness that was forming in his left eye. She said nothing.

Rizzo wiped his eye and continued softly. “The agent that I had placed in the cave region was a young man named Jacob Allen. He spotted some unusual activity in a cavernous area farther up the mountain. He decided to investigate it and found a training area deep inside an expansive cavern. He set up a listening device inside and recorded a series of training sessions over a week’s period. Each night after the group left, he went in, changed out the tapes to catch the next day’s session. It was well beyond the scope of his assignment but he had initiative. The intel was considered highly valuable. He called for early extraction in order to get the tapes to the agency in order to prevent a series of terror attacks in the U.S. I went out to get him and the tapes. Ballard and his men provided passage.”

“Where are the tapes now?” Dougherty asked, pausing from her note-taking.

“Agent Dougherty, the last time I saw them they were headed down into a deep ravine still attached to the dead body of young Allen.” Rizzo finished his glass of whiskey and poured another.

Dougherty put her pen down. Took a sip of her whiskey and then asked Bert to continue.

“Ballard lost a man into that ravine as well, plus had a couple of wounded soldiers. The attack was sudden and brutal. We assume it was either Mujahideen or Taliban fighters but we never saw them as they fired from caves left over from the Soviet invasion years before. Those caves were considered unused for decades. They fired from above us and across from the ravine we were trying to get across and back to base. Once we got clear we called in the jets but we didn’t hang around. I got back to Camp Forward Evac and got on a helicopter to Islamabad and back to D.C.”

Dougherty picked up her pencil and made a few...