The Bin Laden Plot

“I had him sign a nondisclosure agreement, reminding him he’d lose his security clearance if he revealed the contents of the UUV transmission to anyone.”

“Do you have the agreement?”

Hoskins pulled the NDA from his notepad.

“If I may,” Verbeck said, holding her hand out. “I’d like to keep this close hold.”

“Understandable.” Hoskins handed it to Verbeck. “I’ll send the message directing Michigan to meet us in Bahrain, then make our travel arrangements. Afterward… are you available tonight?”

“How about eight o’clock?” she replied as she leaned in for another kiss.

* * *

After Hoskins departed her office, closing the door behind him, Verbeck moved to her desk, placing the NDA before her. She picked up the phone and dialed.

When her call was answered, she said, “This is Brenda. I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“Your kind.”

“What do you need?”

“I have some loose ends I need tied up.”

“I’d rather not get involved.”

“You have some loose ends to tie up yourself. You’ve left them dangling for far too long. Why not take care of them as well?”

There was silence for a moment before Verbeck received a response.

“I agree. But there’s a complication. One of my loose ends is assigned to your protective detail. However, it could be considered an opportunity. I could arrange his death while he’s assigned to you for an event, or do you prefer it be done during a quieter, off-duty moment?”

Brenda considered the question, and it didn’t take long for her to decide on the former option.

“Definitely while on duty. Can you make it look like I was the intended victim? The agent will go down a hero, and I’ll get some welcome publicity. SecNav is my stepping stone to SecDef, and the more publicity I can get, the better.”

“I’ll see what I can arrange. How many loose ends do you have?”

“Two.”

“Who?”

Verbeck skimmed the NDA agreement, locating the person’s name. “Jason Lee Johnson. He’s a Navy cryptologic technician here at the Pentagon.”

“And the second?”

“Captain Andrew Howard Hoskins, my military aide.”

4 CALVERTON, MARYLAND

Seated at a desk in his hotel room a block from the Capital Beltway, Lonnie Mixell studied the four surveillance videos on his laptop computer screen, searching for any indication that tonight’s endeavor had been tipped to the authorities. At first, the shipment to the Middle East had seemed straightforward — almost childishly simplistic — until he had discerned its contents. Given the sensitivity of the matter, he had taken precautions, installing surveillance cameras at the loadout location a few weeks ago, which he had monitored daily. Thus far, there was no indication anything was awry.

He had taken additional precautions, changing his appearance. His hair was dyed brown and he wore blue contact lenses. The changes wouldn’t fool computerized facial recognition algorithms, but it should prevent any law enforcement officials he happened to run into from recognizing him as one of the most wanted men by Interpol and America’s FBI. The man who, a few months ago, had almost enabled the destruction of the twenty largest cities in the United States and the assassination of the nation’s president.

A notification appeared on his computer display, indicating he had received an encrypted transmission. He clicked on the note, which launched a portal to a secure messaging site.

Looking for more work?

As a matter of fact, he was. The current job would wrap up sometime tomorrow, once the containers were loaded aboard the ship, and the ten-million-dollar payment would last only so long.

Mixell responded: “Activity?”

Snap a few pictures.

“How many?” Mixell typed, wondering how many pictures — assassinations — were being requested.

Five.

“Location?”

All in the United States. Four in the D.C. area. One on West Coast.

“Rate?”

$1M each.

“Due date?”

No hard dates, but ASAP.

Mixell pondered the request. A million each could be plenty or woefully inadequate, depending on the targets.

“Names and details?”

Five names scrolled down the screen, accompanied by a short description of each man’s current job and background. Three of the targets were retired Navy SEALs, and he knew each one. The other two were active-duty Navy: one officer and one enlisted, and he had never heard of either.

He typed: “What’s the connection?”

Their relationship is not your concern.

Mixell’s eyes went back to the names on the list. The fourth was the most problematic, while the fifth sparked Mixell’s curiosity.

The fourth man was Johnathon Patrick McNeil, a former Navy SEAL commander who had retired recently and was now working as a government protective agent, currently assigned to the secretary of the Navy. Additionally, it was specified that he be killed in her vicinity. Make it look like she was the target.