Operation Mockingbird (12 page)

“Stephen,” Matt interrupted, “start at the beginning. Just what did you and Bob figure out.”

“Well, I don’t need to remind you about the fake accounts of what was happening over there in the beginning.”

“Of course not,” Matt said. “I know that from the beginning of the War on Terror, the media was all too happy to pass along the government’s description of the events without question. In some cases, they simply regurgitated what the government spat out. But we learned from that. The media’s not falling for that crap anymore.”

“Oh, I think we learned from it alright, but I don’t think everyone learned the same lesson. Some of us -- like you and me -- learned to be a little bit more skeptical. But, others … well, others figured that there were opportunities to use the media to influence the public.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bob found out that a small public relations firm is behind most of the press coming out about what’s going on
in the Middle East and that the firm is intentionally providing misinformation.”

“Let me guess,” interrupted Matt. “Information Management Services.”

“How did you know?” Stephen asked.

“You and Bob aren’t the only ones who know how to do a little digging,” Matt replied.

“Yeah. Bob and his digging ...” Stephen said as he shook his head sadly. “We met several times and talked about these things. He got me the identity of the PR firm and the group that’s behind it. From there, I was able to use another contact to get more information. But, there’s no way I could have figured this all out without Bob.”

Matt leaned in close. “What happened, Stephen?”

“Those assholes killed him,” Stephen spat out. “That’s what happened.”

Matt was stunned. Despite Marie’s earlier insistence that Bob’s death was no accident and Stephen’s declaration, Matt struggled with accepting that Bob had been murdered.

“Are you sure about this, Stephen?” Matt finally asked.

“No doubt in my mind, Matt,” Stephen replied. “Bob discovered that IMS was hired by someone -- we don’t know who -- to manage a public relations campaign in the United States.”

“To do what?”

“As far as we can tell, they are working hard to promote a very specific picture of what’s going on in the Middle East,” Stephen responded. “They have been the driving force behind some documentaries on the progress that has been made over there. They’ve also been behind
several articles touting the new governments in Iraq and Afghanistan and the great job they’re supposedly doing bringing democracy to the region. This firm is also the money behind a not-for-profit organization that has written several research papers about the benefits of fossil fuels over alternative energy sources. This PR firm is being paid to create news that is specifically intended to put a positive spin on what’s going on in the Middle East. “

“That’s what PR firms do.” Matt interrupted.

“That’s true,” Stephen conceded. “But we know from our own experiences over in the Middle East that what they’re reporting isn’t true. And these guys do more than just spit out positive press releases that people know came from a public relations firm and can interpret the information through that lens and as they deem appropriate. They spread their spin in such a way that it looks like an unbiased report. We were able to track the language from their press releases and link it to several hard news articles -- with the exact same language. They’re able to get legitimate news organizations to take their reports -- that are factually incorrect – and publish them as news.”

Matt thought about this for a minute. He had to admit that he could see the value of an effective PR campaign. The City of Miami had to do something similar after several tourists became victims of a series of carjackings that occurred over a period of several months. A number of cars with out-of-state license plates that had ended up lost in the wrong part of town were stopped by groups of very organized street thugs waiting for just this opportunity. The occupants were robbed and terrorized at
gunpoint and, in a few cases, someone had been shot. When news of this specific form of attack had gone public, there was a significant drop in tourism, Miami’s primary source of income.

So the City Commission authorized the placement of better signage pointing out-of-towners in the direction of the airport, hotels and tourist attractions. But the city didn’t stop there. They also authorized the spending of millions of dollars on PR firms that coordinated a massive marketing campaign designed to assure the public that the city was safe, highlight all of the fun and exciting activities the city had to offer and downplay the escalating poverty and crime that plagued many pockets of the city. The campaign was a huge success. It didn’t take long for the tourists to forget about the history of violence. Once they did, the land of sandy beaches, turquoise water and pink flamingos became popular again.

“I get it, Stephen. But, how does a PR firm have the power to influence the press to that extent?” Matt asked.

“It’s easier than you think,” answered Stephen. “All it takes is one lazy paper to pick up a self-serving press release, not vet it properly and publish it verbatim as news. Then voila! a puff piece becomes fact. If that story is picked up and repeated enough times, nobody remembers where it came from, certainly not whether it came from a legitimate news source.”

“The echo effect,” Matt said. An information source will make a claim, which people will then repeat over and over again. Like the game of telephone, the message will become distorted, frequently exaggerated. But in the end,
most people will assume that the story -- or some variation of the story -- is true.

“That’s right,” Stephen confirmed. “And if you’ve got a PR firm that can put out enough press releases, documentaries and white papers, you can create the illusion that the message is coming from different sources and that it must be true.”

“A PR firm really has that much influence?” Matt asked.

Stephen nodded. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Matt, in the struggle between quality unbiased content generated by paid professional journalists and self-serving material generated from other sources, quality content is getting its ass kicked.”

“And you really think this information -- or misinformation campaign -- somehow got Bob killed?”

“Yeah. I think it did.”

“A man was killed over spin?” Matt said shaking his head in disbelief.

“There’s a lot at stake,” Stephen said interrupting Matt’s thoughts. “Billions of dollars. Lives. Reputations. World standing. Enough to kill for.”

“Assuming you’re right, Stephen, how did they find found out about Bob and what you guys were doing?”

“Initially, Bob and I didn’t hide what we were working on. We thought we didn’t need to. We met on several occasions in public places and it was pretty well known in our circles what we were doing. Bob even went to his paper to pitch a series of articles on the topic. He described our preliminary findings to his editor and folks at a couple of
other media outlets. We were hoping to generate interest in hopes of a broad distribution when we were ready to go with the story. Shortly after that, Bob was dead. I don’t think that was a coincidence.”

“And this is why you’re living ... like this?” Matt asked, gesturing at Stephen and their current surroundings.

“As soon as I heard about Bob’s death, I considered that it might be related to the story, although I didn’t know for sure. I haven’t been back home since. I didn’t even know my apartment was trashed until you mentioned it -- although I’m not surprised -- and I think it only confirms my fears.”

Not to mention Matt’s fears. He had felt from the outset that it was no ordinary burglary.

“Does anyone else know about this?” Matt asked.

“Yeah, one other guy. Another source Bob and I were using. I got in touch with him immediately after I heard about what happened to Bob. I explained to him that we needed to shut down our investigation ... at least until we figured out our next move.”

“Who’s this guy?”

“I can’t tell you. He’s nervous, very nervous. I swore to protect his identity so he trusts me. But he’s not a journalist, and he’s getting pretty squirrely.”

“So what’s your next move?” Matt asked.

“I don’t have a next move, Matt,” Stephen admitted. “Even if I did, you don’t want to get involved in this. I only told you in the hopes that it’d knock some sense into you. Walk away from this. I’m telling you. Walk away now.”

“Listen, Stephen, I am involved. I made a promise to Bob’s widow.”

Matt explained his meeting with Marie, the conversation they had and her insistence that he figure out what happened to her husband. “Even if I hadn’t promised Marie, Stephen,” Matt continued. “I still wouldn’t walk away. I’m not going to let you deal with this by yourself.”

Stephen shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything. And this is way too dangerous.”

“I’m going to help -- whether you like it or not,” Matt replied. “If it makes you feel any better about accepting my help, consider this: I’m certainly not going to let go of such a potentially great story. Now you can let me go off half-cocked and try to investigate this on my own, which you know I have a tendency to do, or you can tell me what I can do to help.”

Stephen stared at Matt intently for several seconds. “Alright, Matt,” Stephen finally replied raising his hands in surrender. “You win.”

Matt grinned, but he wasn’t quite sure he should feel like a winner.

“So, what’s the next step?”

Stephen sighed deeply and shook his head. “I told you, I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“If what you’re suggesting about Bob is true, shouldn’t we go to the police?” Matt asked.

Stephen got up and began pacing in front of the chairs as he considered this. “No,” he finally said. “We can’t go to them yet. I don’t have enough information. I don’t have any real proof.”

“So, what do we do?”

“I don’t know.” He ran his hands through his hair. “But I’m working on it. I have some ideas but I need some time.” He collapsed back into his seat with a sigh.

A long silence followed. The only sound came from the click of the bocce balls in the background and an occasional hoot from the table of old timers exchanging stories.

“It’s late,” Stephen finally said slapping his thighs and sitting up. “You’ve got a lot of information to absorb -- and I still have some additional information I need to get. I think maybe we should call it a night.”

“Okay. But, Stephen, come back with me tonight,” Matt said. “You can stay at my place.”

“No, that’s not necessary,” Stephen shook his head. “I’m good. I have a place to stay -- it’s not the Ritz but I’m okay.”

“Come on, man,” Matt said. “I don’t like the idea of you out on the streets on your own -- especially after everything you’ve told me.”

“Matt, I appreciate your concern. I really do. But, I think it’s better for you -- and me -- if we aren’t seen in public together. Whoever got to Bob hasn’t found me yet, although not from lack of trying judging from what you tell me about my apartment. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“But --”

“No, Matt,” Stephen responded. “I can’t put you in any more danger than I already have. I’ve got some things I have to do. I need to figure out our next step. I can’t do that if I’m worried about you.”

Matt argued with Stephen for several minutes longer, but his old friend was adamant that he would not go home with Matt and Matt was not going to change his mind. He knew Stephen was probably right about keeping a distance, but that didn’t make Matt feel any better about leaving his friend out on his own, especially if things were as bad as he had suggested. The last thing Matt wanted was to have to pay any visits to Stephen’s parents, like the one to Bob’s wife.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

FROM THE MOMENT Matt dropped off Stephen at a spot on the mainland in Downtown Miami, Matt began watching the time more closely. The more he worried about Stephen, the slower the hours seemed to drag. So Matt kept busy as best he could. He continued researching story lines, spending time with Pierre and renewing other acquaintances. He also called Dana to find out whether she had heard anything about Mo’s situation. When Dana called him back, she asked him to meet her at Perricone’s Marketplace & Cafe, a popular restaurant near downtown.

Perricone’s was built out of lumber from a well-preserved wooden barn built in the 1700s in Vermont. The restaurant’s owner had the barn taken apart piece by piece, transported to Miami and carefully reconstructed on the property. The hand-hewn beams, walls and flooring beautifully complemented the old banyan trees surrounding the structure. The restaurant is a hidden oasis amid massive hammock trees and towering skyscrapers.

The place was starting to fill up with a lunchtime crowd. Matt asked the hostess to seat him because he knew he was in for a wait. Dana could generally be counted on to
be late, frequently very late. Dana didn’t mean to be rude. She just had a tendency to over commit herself and to get lost in whatever she was working on. He was seated in the outside patio at a corner table overlooking the rest of the restaurant. From there he watched the lunch crowd cut deals, settle cases and get to know each other on safe first dates.

Dana finally made her entrance. She breezed past the hostess stand and stood in the middle of the dining room. Matt watched her scan the room. She spotted him and strode toward the table. On the way, she stopped at two different tables to exchange greetings with people she recognized. When she finally arrived at the table, Matt rose and they exchanged a brief hug.

“Sorry for being late,” she said as she settled into the chair across from him. “I got dragged into a meeting at the office.”

She began looking over a menu he suspected she knew by heart. Her brown eyes shone brightly behind her very stylish black-rimmed glasses. Her normally olive complexion was deeply tanned. She was wearing a cream-colored sleeveless dress. It fit snugly against her trim figure. The black sweater that fell loosely around her shoulders and was tied in front only served to accentuate her shapely arms and the swell of her breasts.