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  That was nonsense, of course. Miller knew Powell well enough to know that a large ax would fall on his neck, wielded by Powell himself, if he made a habit of sending back channels to Powell or anyone in his circle. But he did nothing to assuage the ambassador's worries.

  "You said this was important, Major Miller?" the ambassador said.

  "No, sir. With respect, making a decision like that is not for someone of my pay grade. What I said was that I thought you and Colonel Porter might consider this important. That's why I thought I should bring this to your attention as soon as possible, sir."

  "What is it, Dick?" Colonel Porter asked.

  "It would seem, sir, that someone has stolen an airplane from Quatro de Fevereiro."

  "Really?" the ambassador asked.

  "What kind of an airplane, Dick?" Colonel Porter asked.

  "A 727, sir. The one that's been sitting out there for fourteen months."

  "How the hell did they do that?" Colonel Porter asked. "You can't just get in an airplane that hasn't moved for fourteen months and fire it up."

  "I don't know how they did it, sir, only that they did. They just taxied from where it had been parked to the north/south, and took off without clearance, and disappeared."

  "You're the expert, Colonel," the ambassador said. "Would an aircraft like that have the range to fly to the United States?"

  Why am I not surprised that the World Trade towers have popped into the ambassadors head? Miller thought.

  "No, sir, I don't think that it would," Colonel Porter replied, and then added: "Not without taking on fuel somewhere. And even if it did that, its tanks would be just about empty by the time it got to the U.S." He turned to Miller: "You're sure about this, Dick?"

  "Yes, sir. I have a source at the airport. He told me that the plane ignored both 'Abort takeoff' and then 'Return to airfield immediately' orders after it was in the air."

  "Where was it headed?"

  "East, sir, when it fell off the radar."

  "We don't know if terrorists are involved in this, do we?" the ambassador asked.

  "No, sir," Colonel Porter said. "We don't know that for sure, certainly. But we certainly can't discount that possibility."

  "It's possible, sir, that it was just stolen," Miller said.

  "What would anyone do with a stolen airliner?" the ambassador asked.

  "Perhaps cannibalize it for parts, sir," Colonel Porter said.

  "Take parts from it?"

  Yes. sir.

  "They call that 'cannibalizing'?"

  Why do I think our African ambassador is uncomfortable with that word?

  "Yes, sir."

  "Well, Miller, you were absolutely right in bringing this up to me," the ambassador said. "We'd better start notifying people."

  "Yes, sir," Colonel Porter and Major Miller said, almost in unison.

  "Miller, you're obviously going to notify: your people?"

  "I thought it would be best to check with you before I did so, Mr. Ambassador."

  But not knowing where the hell you might be, or when you could find time for me in your busy schedule, and suspecting you might say, "Before we do anything, I think we should carefully consider the situation," I filed it to Langley as a FLASH satellite burst before I came here.

  "I think we should immediately make this situation known to Washington," the ambassador said.

  My God! An immediate decision! Will wonders never cease?

  "Yes, sir," Porter and Miller said, in chorus.

  "And it might be a good idea if you were both to get copies of your messages to me as soon as you can," the ambassador said. "They'll be useful to me when I prepare my report to the State Department."

  Translation: "I will say nothing in my report that you didn't say in yours. That way, if there's a fuckup, I can point my finger at you. "It's not really an ambassador's responsibility to develop information like this himself. He has to rely on those who have that kind of responsibility.

  "Yes, sir," they said, in chorus.

  Ten minutes later another FLASH satellite burst from Miller went out from the antenna on the embassy roof.

  It was identical to Miller's first message, except for the last sentence, which said, "Transmitted at direction of ambassador."

  When he walked out of the radio room, Miller thought that by now his message-it had been a FLASH, the highest priority-had reached the desk of his boss, the CIA's regional director for Southwest Africa, in Langley.

  Miller then went to his office, plugged the high-speed cable into his personal laptop computer, and, typing rapidly, sent an e-mail message to two friends:

  HALO101@WEB. NET

  BEACHAGGIE83@AOL. COM

  A BOEING 727, REGISTERED TO LEASE-AIRE, INC., PHILADELPHIA,

  PENNA., WHICH MADE A DISCRETIONARY LANDING HERE FOURTEEN MONTHS AGO,

  AND HAD BEEN SITTING HERE SINCE, WAS APPARENTLY STOLEN BY PARTIES

  UNKNOWN AT 1425 TODAY. MORE WHEN I HAVE IT.

  Dick sending such a message violated a long list of security restrictions, and Major Miller was fully aware that it did. On the other hand, whoever had grabbed the 727 knew they had grabbed it, so what was the secret?

  Furthermore, the back-channel message was a heads-up-unofficial, of course-to people who would possibly, even likely, become involved in whatever the government ultimately decided to do about the stolen airplane.

  This especially applied to HALO 101-the screen name made reference to the number of High Altitude, Low Opening parachute jumps the addressee had made-who was a lieutenant colonel at Fort Bragg, North Carolina.

  Ostensibly a member of the G-3 staff of the XVIII Airborne Corps, he was in fact the deputy commander of a unit few people had even heard about, and about which no one talked. It was officially known as the "Contingency Office" and colloquially as "Gray Fox," or "Baby D."

  "D" made reference to Delta Force, about which some people actually knew something and a great many people-very few of whom knew what they were talking about-talked a great deal.

  The Contingency Office-Gray Fox-was a five-officer, thirty-one-NCO unit within Delta Force that was prepared to act immediately-they trained to be wheels up in less than an hour-when ordered to do so.

  BeachAggie83-the screen name made reference to the Texas Agricultural amp; Mechanical University, the year the addressee had graduated, and to the fact that he was now stationed in Florida-was a lieutenant colonel assigned to the Special Activities Section, J-5 (Special Operations), United States Central Command, MacDill Air Force Base, Florida.

  If it was decided that Delta Force, Gray Fox-or any other special operations organization, such as the Air Commandos, the Navy SEALs, the Marines' Force Recon-were to be deployed in connection with the missing airplane, the orders would come from Central Command.

  While his satburst message had reached Washington in literally a matter of seconds, it might not reach either Fort Bragg or MacDill for hours-or days-until the message had been evaluated at Langley, passed to the national security counselor, and evaluated again and a decision reached.

  Major Miller's conscience did not bother him a bit for sending a heads-up that violated a long list of security restrictions. He'd done a tour with Delta and knew the sooner they got a heads-up, the better.

  He unplugged the laptop and locked it in his desk drawer. Then he changed into his work clothes and caught a taxicab out to the Quatro de Fevereiro Aeroporto to see what else he could find out about what had happened to his airplane.

  Chapter II

  [ONE]

  The Central Intelligence Agency

  Langley, Virginia

  1133 23 May 2005

  When, at 1530 Luanda time, Major H. Richard Miller, Jr., sent his first satellite burst message announcing the apparent theft from the Luanda airport of Lease-Aires 727, it took about three minutes in real time to reach the desk of his boss, the CIA's regional director for Southwest Africa, in Langley. There is a four-hour difference in time between Angola and Virgin
ia. When it is half past three in Luanda, it is half past eleven in Langley.

  The message was actually received by the regional director's executive administrative assistant as the regional director had not yet returned from a working lunch at the Department of State in the District.

  The operative word in the job title was "executive." It meant that Mrs. Margaret Lee-Williamson was authorized to execute, in the regional director for Southwest Africa's name, certain administrative actions, among them to receive material classified top secret addressed to the regional director and to take any appropriate action the material called for.

  What this meant was that when the computer terminal on Mrs. Lee-Williamson's desk pinged and the message SATBURST CONFIDENTIAL FROM LUANDA FOR REGDIR SWAFRICA ENTER ACCESS CODE appeared on the screen, Mrs. Lee-Williamson typed in a ten-digit access code, whereupon the simple message from Miller appeared on the screen:

  CONFIDENTIAL

  SATBURST 01 LUANDA 23 MAY 1530

  FOR REGDIR SWAFRICA

  A BOEING 727 TRANSPORT AIRCRAFT LA-9021 REGISTERED TO LEASE-AIRE,

  INC., PHILA., PENN., TOOK OFF WITHOUT PERMISSION FROM QUATRO DE

  FEVEREIRO AEROPORTO INTERNACIONAL AT 1425 LOCAL TIME 23 MAY 2005 AND

  DISAPPEARED FROM RADAR SHORTLY THEREAFTER. ANGOLAN AUTHORITIES KNOWN

  TO BELIEVE AIRCRAFT WAS STOLEN. MORE TO FOLLOW.

  STACHIEF LUANDA

  Mrs. Lee-Williamson read it and pressed the print key.

  She read the printout carefully, then decided that while the message should be forwarded it wasn't really all that important. Very few things classified confidential are ever important. Certainly not important enough for her to try to get the regional director on the phone during lunch.

  Mrs. Lee-Williamson decided that she could handle this herself and tell her boss about it when the regional director returned from lunch.

  She highlighted Major Miller's message with the cursor, pressed the copy key, and then the END and WRITE keys. When a blank message form headed FROM CIA REGIONAL DIRECTOR FOR SOUTHWEST AFRICA appeared on her screen, she typed, after she thought about it a moment, DISTLIST4, and, when she pressed the ENTER key, it caused distribution list number 4 to appear in the addressee box on the message form:

  NATIONAL SECURITY ADVISOR

  SECRETARY OF DEFENSE

  SECRETARY OF HOMELAND SECURITY

  SECRETARY OF STATE

  DIRECTOR, FBI

  DIRECTOR, FAA

  CHAIRMAN, JOINT CHIEFS OF STAFF

  Then, as an afterthought, she added to the list of addressees:

  COMMANDING GENERAL CENTRAL COMMAND

  There had been several complaints from Central Command concerning their not being given timely notice of certain events and Angola was within CentCom's area of responsibility.

  She moved her cursor to the message box and typed:

  FOLLOWING RECEIVED 1133 23 MAY 2 005 FROM LUANDA, ANGOLA, IS

  FORWARDED FOR YOUR INFORMATION.

  Then she pressed the INSERT key and Miller's message appeared on the screen.

  Mrs. Lee-Williamson then pressed the send key and the message was on its way. Then she called up a fresh message blank and began to type.

  STACHIEF LUANDA

  REFERENCE YOUR SATBURST 01 23MAY05 RE POSSIBLY STOLEN AIRCRAFT.

  WITHOUT DIVERTING SUBSTANTIAL ASSETS, ATTEMPT TO DEVELOP FURTHER

  REGDIR SWAFRICA

  When she had pressed the SEND key again, she decided it was time for a cup of coffee. She locked the printout of Miller's message in a secure filing cabinet, locked the office door, and headed for the cafeteria.

  [TWO]

  Office of the Commanding General

  United States Central Command

  MacDill Air Force Base

  Tampa, Florida

  1645 23 May

  General Allan B. Naylor routinely used two computers in his office suite. One he thought of as the "desktop" computer, although it was actually on the floor under the credenza behind Naylor's desk. The other, which he thought of as the "laptop" computer, he brought to work with him each morning and took home at night.

  When he was in the office, the laptop sat either on Naylor's desk, where it could be seen by those sitting at his office conference table, which butted up against his desk, or it sat before the commanding general's chair on the larger conference table in the conference room next to his office, where it was similarly very visible to others at the table.

  Quite innocently, the laptop had acquired an almost menacing aura. None of those at either table could see what was on the laptop's screen, and it is human nature to fear the unknown.

  Everyone at either conference table became aware that at least once every ten minutes or so, the CG's attention was diverted from what was being discussed by the conferees to the laptop screen and he would either smile or frown, then look thoughtful, and then type something. Or return his attention to the conferees and ask a question, or issue an order obviously based on what had been on the laptop's screen.

  General Naylor had learned his laptop was commonly known among the senior members of his staff as the "IBB"-for "Infernal Black Box." More junior members of his staff referred to it, privately of course, in somewhat more imaginative and scatological terms.

  Having the laptop on the commanding general's desk and on the conference table had been the idea of Command Sergeant Major Wesley Suggins.

  "General, if you turn that thing on and sign on to the Instant Messager, I can let you know who's on the horn. You follow, sir?"

  It had taken General Naylor about ten seconds to follow Suggins's reasoning.

  General Naylor often thought, and said to his inner circle, that Napoleon was right when he said, "Armies travel on their stomachs," that during World War II someone was right to comment, "The Army moves on a road of paper," and that, he was forced to the sad conclusion, "CentCom sails very slowly through a Sargasso Sea of conferences."

  The problem during these conferences was that there were always telephone calls from important people-such as Mrs. Elaine Naylor, or the secretary of defense-for the commanding general. General Naylor always took calls from these two, but some of the calls were from less important people and could wait.

  Sergeant Major Suggins usually made that decision and informed the caller that General Naylor was in conference and would return the call as soon as he could. But sometimes Sergeant Major Suggins didn't feel confident in telling, for example, the assistant secretary of defense for manpower or someone calling from the White House that he was just going to have to wait to talk to the boss.

  In that case, there were two options. He could enter Naylor's office, or the conference room, and go to the general and quietly tell him that he had a call from so-and-so, and did he wish to take it?

  The moment the sergeant major entered the conference room, or the office, whoever had the floor at the moment in the conference would stop-often in midsentence-and politely wait for the sergeant major and the general to finish.

  This wasted time, of course, and prolonged the conference.

  The second option-which Naylor originally thought showed great promise-was a telephone on his desk and the conference table, which had a flashing red button instead of a bell. That had been a failure, too, as the instant the button began to flash whoever was speaking stopped talking, in the reasonable presumption that if the general's phone flashed, the call had to be more important than whatever he was saying at the moment.

  From the beginning, the use of the laptop to announce calls had been a success. Naylor always caught, out of the corner of his eye, activity on the laptop's screen. He then dropped his eyes to it and read, for example:

  MRS N??????

  Or:

  SEC BEIDERMAN???

  Or:

  GEN HARDHEAD

  Whereupon he would put his fingers on the keyboard and type:

  BRT

  Which meant "Be Right There," and, further, meant that he would sta
nd up, say, "Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen," and go into a small soundproof cubicle, which held a chair, a desk, and a secure telephone, and converse with his wife or the secretary of defense.

  Or, in the case of General Hardhead, for example, he would quickly type:

  NN. 1 HR

  Which stood for "Not Now. Have Him Call Back in an Hour."

  Or:

  FOWDWIIP

  Which stood for "Find Out What, and Deal With It If Possible."

  General Naylor found he could get and receive messages in this manner without causing whoever had the floor to stop in midsentence and wait.

  But then, starting with Mrs. Naylor, he began to get messages directly from those in his inner circle, rather than via Sergeant Major Suggins, those who were very privy to the great secret of Naylor's e-mail screen name.

  There would be a muted beep, he would drop his eyes to the screen and see that Mrs. Naylor was inquiring:

  CAN YOU PICK UP TWO DOZEN EGGS AND SOME RYE BREAD AT THE

  COMMISSARY??

  To which, without causing the conference to come to a complete stop, he could reply: