Mission Compromised (26 page)

But they both knew that SCTI had a long-range problem. Once this eight thousand-unit contract for presidential contingency communications and our strategic nuclear forces was filled, how could they find other customers for the EL-3? They had been doing very well making one thousand units a year, but now they wanted to double SCTI's production. If they didn't find new customers, they'd lose their highly skilled force of technicians and programmers to some other high-tech venture as soon as this production run was completed. And without a highly skilled group of “techies” like they
had out back in the manufacturing bays, the company would go belly up.

Both Korman and Marat knew they had created the problem for SCTI: the EL-3 equipment was so good and so reliable that once a customer had it, they didn't need to buy anything else. Another potential problem for SCTI had come during the Gulf War. Korman was convinced that Saddam Hussein's invasion of Kuwait would bring another boom to the company. But the people at the NSC who called the shots had deemed the EncryptionLok-3 technology too sensitive to risk and had barred it from overseas shipment or sale to its allies, even the British.

There was military logic in this policy, but only because the commanders fighting the war didn't know about SCTI's upgrade. The GPS and command/destruct functions built into the latest versions of the EncryptionLok-3 made it safe to use anywhere. But the generals and admirals fighting Iraq didn't know about the new and improved model because it was reserved only for the Contingency Project and the strategic nuclear forces.

It made Korman seethe. He knew he was missing a magnificent opportunity for enormous profits.

Marat tried a less mercenary, more human approach in his pitch to Jules Wilson shortly after the troops started deploying for Saudi Arabia: “Look Jules, those Marines and soldiers are going to have to hump around the desert in one-hundred-degree heat, wearing those NBC suits and carrying those ancient KY-38s on their backs. I think you guys gave it that number because that's what it weighs. Let 'em use our new EL-3s. You and I know darned well that it doesn't matter if a military unit operating in Kuwait or Iraq loses one of the new EL-3s in combat. It wouldn't even matter if the device were taken back to
Baghdad. Constant monitoring of the EncryptionLok-3 units by higher headquarters will alert them to such an event. You can use the same protocol that the Special Project EL-3s use. If the person holding the device doesn't respond with the daily password in thirty seconds, the comm officer at the next higher headquarters can initiate the destruct sequence for that particular EncryptionLok-3.”

Wilson gave him a one-word answer to the plea: “No.”

Both Marat and Korman knew that the only solution was to make some of the top military honchos in the Army Navy Air Force, and Marines aware of their new and improved EL-3. They reasoned that if one of the generals or admirals with knowledge of and experience with the supersecret EL-3s worked for SCTI, there would be incentives to find ways of getting the NSC to relax their prohibitions on the newer devices, especially when there were so many of the older units in use by the nation's strategic nuclear forces that did not have the GPS locator ability or its command/destruct capability.

SCTI's founders were sure that if they found the right retired general or admiral, they could use him to get the word out about the upgraded device. And then, they figured, once the “non-nuke” side of the services knew about the device, they would clamor to have it made available to their troops.

But it turned out to be more difficult to hire brass hats than either Korman or Marat had thought it would be. They couldn't advertise because their only customer didn't want anyone else to know what SCTI made. It was hard enough going to colleges to recruit employees. By the terms of its contracts, everyone working at SCTI had to be an American citizen, and, on top of that, this arrogant Jules Wilson insisted that his Comm Hawks vet every applicant for top-secret security clearances. They had even moved two of their FBI security dweebs
into the SCTI building to monitor security. It bugged Korman that no matter what time he arrived or left, one of them was always there. When Korman groused about it once to Wilson, the NSA spook simply replied, “Deal with it.” Korman took solace in knowing that Wilson's and his two security dweebs'
combined
income was about that of a janitor at SCTI.

When Marat traveled back to Washington for meetings with the Defense Communications Agency, Pentagon, and White House Communications Agency though, he would routinely remind the senior officers with whom he met, “Now when you get ready to retire to sunny California, give us a call.”

The overture finally paid off in 1991—just as the Contingency Project contract neared completion and SCTI was getting desperate for another purchase order. Rear Admiral Frank Laughton, the man originally responsible for installing EL-3s in the U.S. nuclear submarine fleet, invited Marat to come see him at his office in Crystal City, south of the Pentagon.

“Stanley, I'm going to retire this summer. I've already put my papers in, and I'm putting out a coupla feelers to see what I might be able to do in the civilian sector.” That was all the initiative Marat needed.

He took the admiral to dinner at Five Seasons, the brand-new but pricey gourmet restaurant across from the Renwick Gallery, just up from the White House and the OEOB. When the check came, Marat peeled three one-hundred-dollar bills from his money clip and placed them on the small silver tray that the waiter had brought bearing the check and a pair of Godiva chocolates.

Marat knew that such opulence impressed the admiral. A young woman came by their table and offered them cigars. The men selected
from a choice of Latin specialties, and Marat recommended one labeled in Spanish. “It's called ‘the woman with the fragrant body,' and it's almost as good as any Cuban cigar that I've tried. Kinda sexy, huh?”

Admiral Laughton pointed at the box, and the young hostess took out two cigars and presented them to the men as if they were made of gold. They lit up, and Marat felt that he had impressed the admiral enough to state plainly what he wanted.

“Look, Frank, I've got to tell you … you wouldn't be making a mistake in choosing SCTI for your next career … and you know that—”

The admiral interrupted him. “I've already made up my mind, Stanley. I looked into several other companies, but SCTI offers the best opportunity for me. You've sold me.”

“Well, you know how much I'd like to have you aboard … but I'm afraid I shouldn't have been so hasty …”

Admiral Laughton was visibly shaken. There was something in the tone of voice that Marat used that said that he had changed his mind. “You see, Frank, I've got a real problem. You're one of the small handful of people out of the six billion on this planet who knows what SCTI does, what we make, and the special capabilities built into the newest EL-3s that allow them to be tracked, and if necessary, destroyed. You had the foresight to see what we could do for the U.S. Navy's strategic nuclear forces.”

“That's right,” the admiral said. “I saw right away that we needed EncryptionLok-3s on every one of our nuclear subs, and when you developed the tracking and command/destruct features, I insisted we replace the original models with the upgraded devices. Just think of what could happen if we had an incident like that German sub in World War II that lost the Enigma code device. Remember that? It helped us beat the Nazis years earlier than we otherwise could have, and
it saved thousands of U.S. and Allied lives. But what if our enemies got their hands on one of our encryption devices today? Who knows what catastrophes that would bring about!”

“Frank, you're a very perceptive man. I wish you were working at the NSC office. Those guys don't have a fraction of your vision and wisdom. And it's because of that—and this is highly confidential, Frank—I can share it with you only because of your security clearance. The reason is, because of the shortsightedness of the NSC, SCTI will be out of business by this time next year.” Marat sighed deeply and shook his head for added effect.

“What!? What do you mean?” Laughton sounded like he had just seen his cash cow drown.

“It's a catch-22 situation. We've got the only solution to safeguard our country's military secrets, and it's been provided to all of the government agencies that wanted it. Then, as a service to America, and at a
great expense
to our company, SCTI created a
better
EL-3, like the later versions that you're buying for your Navy subs. But despite our loyalty to our country and willingness to help, we paid an enormous price—the government now says that we can't sell any of our devices to anyone else. Well, Frank, I can understand why they wouldn't let us sell ‘em to the Chinese or North Koreans. But for cryin' out loud, we can't even sell these new EL-3s to our own government agencies and our own
military.”

Admiral Laughton was fuming as much as his cigar. “That's asinine,” he snorted.

“Just think, Frank,” Marat continued, “I'm not afraid that any of your subs or the missile silos would lose one of our EncryptionLok-3s—you guys have great security, yet you still got the
upgraded
EncryptionLok-3s because you wanted to make sure no device could
ever be captured.” This wasn't exactly true, as Marat knew. Laughton had been
told to
take the newer devices because after the discovery of the Walker spy ring in the Navy, nobody trusted anyone.

Marat continued. “As it stands right now, only the nuclear forces and the Contingency Project have the upgraded EncryptionLok-3s. And—if this isn't really stupid, nothing is—none of our military units other than your subs and the carriers with nukes aboard can take the devices out of the country. But as you know, with the new models there's no need to fear losing one or having one captured in combat because of that built-in safety feature. Unfortunately, we're stymied. The NSC won't let us tell
anyone
else about the upgrades we've made. Frank,
every
device ought to be upgraded, and
every
military unit ought to have one.”

“You're right! It's the only way,” the admiral agreed. “Why does the NSC want to keep the rest of the military without them? It's un-American!”

“It's true,” Marat said. “Yet, we have two very serious contractual stipulations that NSA … well, Jules Wilson at NSA … handcuffed us with. One is that we can't sell the new devices to NATO, even though we're common partners in policing the world. The second—and this is more terrible than the first, Frank—we can't even sell them to our own government military and security people, except the NSC and the ones that they approve or control. Wilson wants a monopoly on all of the new units, for whatever cockamamie reason. But I think he's wrong, Frank. And I think that it's a matter of patriotism. All of our boys in the Navy” (he put that one first for the admiral's benefit), “Army Marines, and Air Force need to have these new models. Just think, Frank—why, you even said it a minute ago. What if one of the older models fell into the wrong hands? They can't be located by GPS and tracked down like
the new ones can. And worse than that, they can't be destroyed by remote control to keep 'em from the enemy, like the new ones.”

Marat had touched all the right buttons, and the admiral was shaking his head. “Does the President know about this?” he asked sharply.

“I don't know,” replied Marat, adding, “probably not. I think that Wilson is the only one in the administration who knows—outside of two or three other military leaders who had the foresight to ask for improvements over the old EncryptionLok-3.”

For a long moment neither man spoke. Then the admiral began to think aloud. “You know, I've got a meeting with the President on Friday morning. Wilson and some of the other security council people will be there … and I can tell the President. I won't compromise your trust, Stanley. I won't tell them that you told me this 'cause it might get messy, with the contracts and all. But how about if I just
ask
, out of the blue, you know … ‘Hey, Mr. President, the NSC has new EncryptionLok-3s, but I haven't heard of any other military or security agencies getting the new devices that prevent our codes and secrets from being compromised. What if those old EL-3s fall into the wrong hands? We won't be able to track 'em, and they don't have the new command/destruct capability. I think that poses a serious security risk, don't you, Mr. President?' And then I'll look him straight in the eye and ask, Are we working on solving that problem, Mr. President?' I'll guarantee you that he'll be interested. Not only that, Stanley, every one of the military guys in the room will be gung ho in favor of it. And if that's the way our meeting turns out, it'll be tough for Wilson to jam it. No, Stanley, I think I can take care of your dilemma.”

“Well, Frank, if you can
do
that, I'll be forever indebted to you. And I mean it, Frank. If that happens, you won't have to worry about your retirement. Your 401K will grow very fat, believe me,” Marat said.

Admiral Laughton was true to his word. He appealed to the President and to the patriotism of every military man in the room at the Friday morning meeting. Few of those in the Situation Room meeting knew that an EncryptionLok-3 with the new features even existed. By the end of the meeting, the President instructed Jules Wilson to follow through and make sure the new EncryptionLok-3s got on the classified portion of the pending Defense Appropriation Bill. There was no discussion. It all happened within eight minutes of the meeting.

Jules Wilson was furious at this end run and knew in his gut that SCTI was behind it. Yet, with the President's full support, as well as that of the military men in the room who were asking for wider implementation of the newest EncryptionLok-3 devices, Wilson was powerless. He could not make trouble now for the government's only vendor with such support for the company from across the military. Marat even endeared himself to his customers by promising no price increases. “With a large enough quantity, we should be able to hold the prices where they are now,” he promised them. But back in California, Korman was furious when he heard that and went into one of his shouting rages.