Clean Copy

2. The File

2 THE FILE

The day her security clearance was upped, Andy requested the mysterious file from the Records clerk, who glanced at her computer terminal and said she wasn’t eligible to view such material. With barely contained anger, Andy prodded the clerk to confirm her new status. The woman did so and, without saying a word, retrieved the requested file.

Andy grabbed the folder and retreated to a corner carrel where she sat, staring at the prize, willing her racing heart to quiet. The anticipation of learning from the CIA perspective why her brother died blurred her vision. She wiped the tears and at last opened the report, which consisted of a short, official document and an appendix. She skipped the usual subject-and-security coding at the top and perused the body, a concise account of the number of dead men and their names. It identified a joint task force of the DEA and the CIA as the agency that had authorized the mission and the route. It referred to a standard operating procedure, or SOP, for the intelligence gathering and claimed the area had been quiet for a month. The region had been scanned by a chopper-flyover the day before Tony took his men into the jungle. The summary attributed the m******e to the unexpected infiltration of a force from the drug cartel whose shipment was going to be stopped by the unit. No evidence was cited.

The dry report contained an appendix, labeled as an eye-witness account from the one survivor of the attack. This was the missing twenty-first man. Why hadn’t the main file made this clear? Maybe he hadn’t shown up until after that first document was prepared. Andy noted that the appended material was labeled as having been typed by the witness and unverified. She started to read and realized the tone of the text was unexpected, something written by an educated, intelligent person. At times, the material was almost poetic.

Lieutenant Tony Marino led us along an overgrown jungle path on Nicaragua’s Mosquito Coast, between the Rio Grande de Matagalpa and Rio Prinzalpolka at the end of the rainy season. We tromped through festering, wet jungle, the homeland of the Miskito people, and wiped sweat from our faces under a midday sun. Tropical plants tried hard to engulf the narrow path, and we hacked them back, seeing no reason to be quiet or cautious. We were in the pacified zone from which both drug-shippers and those unhappy with the present government had been driven.

Things seemed normal. Above the insect buzz, raucous birds protested, and somnolent lizards swished leaves in scurried retreats. We hacked foliage, scattering snakes and lizards. The lieutenant stopped to wipe his forehead and watch a scarlet macaw take flight. A green anole with rosy dewlap whose bright color worked against any camouflage jumped in front of us.

“Mating first, invisibility second,” Lieutenant Marino said. He pointed to another lizard decorated with prominent red spots. “Another survival ploy. Garishness that says only a foolish predator would even come close to such poison.”

When we moved, the lizard’s protuberant eye followed with a jerky movement, like the spasms of a loading Ferris wheel. I tell you this detail to show how relaxed we were, relaxed enough for biology.

Andy blinked away tears. The dialog sounded like Tony Marino, the brother she knew, one interested in everything around him, always with a theory. She forced herself to read more.

We walked single-file, close together, rifles hanging from shoulder straps. No one was particularly alert. The territory was safe. We expected a quiet stroll to a village for a few days of R and R, perhaps some gecko soup, as a reward for a successful training mission. The lieutenant was pleased with our accomplishments and felt that Taguro, our leader, was ready to take on a significant role. If the lieutenant could convince his superiors. Diplomacy and political awareness were not Taguro’s strong points.

Andy remembered Tony telling her he had received more than one communication from command indicating misgivings about Taguro, although nothing specific was ever cited. Tony figured he did not have the intelligence rating for such sensitive information. All he was eligible for was risking his life in a bug-infested hell.

The sound from a zul, a native flute, stopped us. It had to be from an outlying farm, for we weren’t near the village. Suddenly the music stopped and the jungle quieted. The men tensed and raised their weapons.

The next sound we heard was not of the jungle. A single rifle shot rang out and Taguro screamed and fell. The men reacted by firing into the trees at what they thought was the source of the shot. The tat tat tat of automatic rifle fire sprayed bullets everywhere. Around me men dropped with cries of pain or the silence of instant death. Blood splattered over giant, green leaves and dripped to the spongy forest floor. My leg took a bullet, but I was lucky. I fell behind a downed tree trunk and stayed quiet. Covered with blood, some mine and some the lieutenant’s, it was easy to play dead. Thank God the shooters didn’t come closer to finish the job. My leg wound was minor, and I managed to limp away after the attack.

Andy shuddered and closed her eyes. She imagined her brother’s last thought was a question: how could the intelligence report be so wrong?

If the attack aimed to eliminate Taguro, why? Did Taguro have unacceptable allegiances? It was not unusual for Central American leaders to be in bed with drug lords. But where was that data? She also wanted to know the intelligence that cleared the path to the village.

From Records, Andy went directly to John Caro’s office. He pretended to maintain an open-door policy, but Andy knew he hated to be interrupted. She didn’t care.

“John, I need your help on something.” She sat. “I’ve been looking at a file on my brother’s death. I need to know why the rebel leader he was training was under suspicion.”

“Why the hell are you wasting your time on that? Your brother’s loss was tragic but put it behind you.” He wore a brittle smile.

“I’m not satisfied I have the full story. My brother was gunned down and there is some reason for it.”

Caro came around his desk. “You have got to let it go. Focus on getting ahead in your job. Just curb your anger and be more pleasant.”

Andy took a deep breath. “If I can get to the bottom of this, maybe I can move on.”

“There are some files that even your new security upgrade does not open. Try putting your energy into fitting in. Use your assets to create your career path.”

“What assets are you talking about?”

“You are a beautiful woman. Like any organization, the CIA runs by more than rules and regulations. People call the shots. If you want to get ahead, be friendly to those who control your future.” Caro sat down and placed his hand on Andy’s thigh. “I might answer your questions if you were friendly enough.”

She was stunned. And then it all became clear. He didn’t just want her to be friendly. He was looking for favors. It happened fast. In one fluid motion, she jumped up, and her hand came around and slapped her boss. His glasses went flying. Caro’s face reddened.

He grabbed her hands and pressed himself against her. She reacted without thinking and brought her knee up into his groin. He rolled away, clutching his genitals.

“You b***h. That’s ground for dismissal.”

“So is s****l harassment.” Andy’s analytical brain took over and came up with a stark conclusion: she had to quit. She’d run into a brick wall in investigating her brother’s death. Caro could fire her, and she didn’t want that on her record. Working for Caro disgusted her. The course was clear. “But I’ll save you the trouble. I quit.”

“Good riddance. Clear out now. I’ll have security give you a hand. And don’t plan to work for the government again. I’ll see that your attitude problem is well known.”

Andy glared at Caro, wishing she could hit him again. She suppressed that impulse and left the office. A security man showed up with a carton as she cleaned out her desk. Without saying goodbye to anyone, she let security lead her to the exit. She walked stiffly to her car across the icy asphalt, avoiding the patches of snow and feeling the chill of the winter air that matched the black cold in her heart. That her predatory boss should remain employed while she was out the door enraged her.

She deposited the box in the trunk, sank into the driver’s seat, and was about to stick the key into the ignition when the glint of sun on chrome caught her eye. Caro’s new BMW, polished and shiny, was parked four cars away. This was his new toy, and he’d made it clear how much he cherished the machine. Andy loathed the BMW as she loathed Caro.

She eased open her car door and slithered out, crouching to stay hidden from the lot security camera, and crept to the BMW. Without hesitating, she ripped a key along the side, leaving a satisfying scratch in the black mirror coat from the front wheel well to the rear door. For good measure, she unscrewed the rear tire valve cover, tossed it, and depressed the valve stem with the key. Air hissed out and the tire grew soft. When it was almost flat, she crept back to her car, got in, and drove away feeling better.