Operation Mockingbird (13 page)

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Authors: Linda Baletsa

BOOK: Operation Mockingbird
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Matt waited for Dana to put down her menu before speaking. He asked about her and her parents. She inquired politely about his travels and his friends. They stuck to the superficial, Matt knowing it was safer that way and Dana likely feeling the same way.

The waitress arrived and took their order.

“Were you able to find anything out about Mo?” Matt asked as soon as the waitress was out of earshot.

“Yes. But it wasn’t easy.”

She went on to explain how the establishment of the Department of Homeland Security was supposed to make the exchange of information among the different agencies easier. Instead, after the purported consolidation of the agencies under one umbrella, turf battles between the famously competitive agencies -- the FBI, CIA and Secret Service -- erupted. And interagency communication became more difficult. Over the last couple of years, communication and information sharing among the intelligence agencies had started to get better, but the former INS, which was generally considered the red-headed stepchild of the DHS, wasn’t in that communication loop.

“I appreciate everything you had to do,” he finally interrupted. “I know it couldn’t have been easy. But what about Mo?”

“He’s being questioned by the Department of Justice,” Dana replied matter of factly.

“About what? What interest could the DOJ possibly have in Mo?”

“They want to know more about what he was doing in the Middle East,” she paused. “And his relationship with a terrorist cell located near the Afghan-Pakistan border.”

“What relationship with a terrorist cell? Mo has no relationship with terrorists!”

“The Justice Department isn’t so sure,” Dana responded, still maintaining a face that gave nothing away.
“They have found some possible links between Mo, the Taliban and this terrorist network. So they picked Mo up when he returned from the Middle East to ask him about his trip and this group.”

Matt was shocked. He wasn’t sure what he found more disturbing -- the fact that the U.S. government had picked Mo up for no reason or that Dana was sitting here so calmly attempting to justify the government’s actions.

“Dana, first of all, this whole thing is absurd.” Matt leaned in to deliver the words, his voice low and hard. “Second, how can the DOJ just arrest Mo and hold him for several weeks without letting him make a phone call. To his family? To an attorney? That’s completely illegal.”

“Matt, you’re being dramatic,” Dana said dismissively as she turned her attention to the salad the waitress put in front of her.

Matt ignored the steak placed in front of him.

“Mo hasn’t been arrested,” she said in between bites. “He’s merely being questioned. The government has the authority to detain people while they’re being questioned.”

“I thought only enemy combatants could be detained by the military.”

“Even American citizens can be detained in the interest of national security.”

Matt was shocked and dumbstruck for several seconds as he processed this information.

“How long can they hold him, Dana?” He finally asked. “I heard he’s been missing for weeks.”

“They can hold American citizens indefinitely. Particularly when they’re considered enemy combatants.”

“An enemy combatant!” Matt slammed his fork down on the table, drawing glances from the folks at the neighboring tables. “Are you kidding me? This is ridiculous. Mo is not an enemy combatant!”

“I know that, Matt,” Dana continued after looking at the tables around them, smiling tightly and then leaning in. “But the Justice Department believes that in some cases certain actions, which would otherwise be considered extreme, are necessary to protect national security. As a result certain people can be held indefinitely.” She looked at him earnestly before she continued. “They just need to get some information from Mo, confirm he is what he says he is and then they will release him.”

“What kind of information? How many questions could they possibly have?”

“Well, that’s just it. I’ve heard that Mo hasn’t been cooperating. He’s refusing to answer their questions.”

“Well, I’m sure if he’s refusing to answer questions, he has a very good reason.”

“That’s exactly what the government is afraid of. They’re concerned it means he’s hiding something -- or is actually involved with these groups.”

“Well, that’s a Catch-22. If he doesn’t confess to anything because he has nothing to hide, then the government assumes he has something to hide!” Matt could barely control his anger. “Dana, Mo is not involved with these groups. He’s not a traitor, and he definitely isn’t an enemy combatant. You know that,” he said urgently.

“You know Mo,” he insisted when Dana didn’t respond.

Dana signaled Matt to lower his voice as she looked around the room. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, Matt.” She leaned in closer. “But we know that over the last year Mo has traveled extensively throughout the Middle East. Mo has met with several high-ranking officials of the Taliban. And more recently, he has been spending time in Syria.”

“Come on, Dana. He’s a reporter. He meets with people for a living. He gets interviews no one else can get. That doesn’t make him a traitor. That makes him a damn good journalist.” Matt continued before Dana could interrupt. “If he’s not speaking with the people at the Department of Justice or the Department of Homeland Security or whatever, it’s probably because he’s trying to protect his sources. That actually makes him a journalist with integrity.”

“I’m not an idiot, Matt. I don’t need the speech,” she said tightly. “I care about Mo just as much as you do and, for the record, I don’t think he’s a terrorist. But he has met with some important people and the Justice Department has every reason to believe that he has information that could be helpful.” She leaned in again and continued in hushed tones. “He could know locations of hideouts, information regarding terrorist cells.”

“Even if Mo does know anything, and I have no idea if he does, the government can’t force him to disclose that information. So they can’t hold him until he does. Right?”

“I’m familiar with the concept of freedom of speech, Matt. Journalists generally can’t be forced to divulge their sources. But this is different, Matt. We’re at war.”

“Oh, jeez,” Matt exclaimed. The smack of his hand against the table made the salt and pepper shakers jump. “If I hear that again, I’m going to …”

The waitress rushed over to see if they needed anything else. Or, more likely, she was eager to get them out of there. At this point, Matt was eager to get the hell out of there too. He signaled that she could take away his plate -- even though he’d barely touched his meal. This meeting had only served to infuriate him.

But he needed Dana. She was the only person he knew who had connections with the people who were holding Mo. She also knew Mo and had to know he wasn’t involved in anything illegal and she could make that case to the people that mattered.

“Dana,” Matt began, this time trying a softer, more conciliatory tone. “I visited with his family -- his mother, father and younger sister. They are completely distraught. They have no idea what’s happened to him and what they can do to help.”

Dana was staring at him without expression but Matt thought he noticed a softening around her jaw.

“You know Mo, Dana. You know his character, and you know he’s not involved with terrorists. He’s a friend and he needs our help -- your help. Isn’t there anything you can do?”

Dana sighed heavily. She looked down at her plate for several seconds then finally looked back up at Matt. “I have some connections with the Justice Department. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Dana, that would be great,” Matt said quickly. “I can’t wait to tell Mo’s fam--”

“Don’t,” Dana interrupted. “I’m not making any promises. Do me a favor and don’t say anything about this.”

“Okay, I understand.” Matt said quickly. “But, Dana, I really do appreciate this.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dana said. “In the interim, Matt, I suggest that you keep a low profile.”

“Me? Why? What are you talking about? Am I at risk of being picked up as well?” Matt felt the indignation began to rise in his throat again.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, Matt. I heard from one of my friends at the commissioner’s office. Suarez knows you’re back in town, and he’s not real happy about it.”

“I know. He’s already paid me a visit.”

Dana’s eyes widened. “He has? What happened?”

Matt gave Dana an abbreviated version of his earlier run-in with the commissioner on the street outside his home. “I knew he’d eventually get wind of my return, although I didn’t anticipate the personal visit to welcome me back,” Matt said. “But you know what? Commissioner Suarez’s insecurities are not my problem.”

“Unfortunately, Matt, Commissioner Suarez’s insecurities are everyone’s problem.” She scanned the room quickly. “You know better than anyone else what a vindictive bastard he can be. If anything, he’s gotten worse since you left.”

“Why’s he still fixated on me? I hear he’s on track to win his bid for re-election. He should be satisfied.”

“Suarez is never satisfied. He’s already strategizing on how he’s going to get back some of the leadership positions and political clout he lost during the investigation. He’s got an ambitious agenda planned for his term and then it’s on to the Senate for him. You know he and his brother have always figured they’d take both seats of the Senate.”

“They’re not still planning that, are they?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“That would be a pretty ballsy move to go after that seat so soon.”

“He’s always been aggressive, and now he’s fixated. He’s not someone you want to cross.”

“I hear ya, Dana, and I appreciate the advice. I’ll steer clear of him.” Even as he said it, Matt knew he wasn’t sure how long he could avoid the temptation of a good target like Commissioner Suarez.

After they gestured for the check, Dana turned the conversation to their mutual friends.

“How’s Stephen Cross doing?” Dana asked.

The question took him aback, especially when a picture of Stephen as he had appeared the night before flashed in his head. But he shouldn’t have been surprised. When Matt and Dana were dating, Dana had gotten to know Stephen fairly well.

“He’s fine, as far as I know. I haven’t seen him since I’ve come back from the Middle East.”

Matt felt bad about lying to her but figured the less she knew, the fewer the complications for both of them. In any event, he needed her attention firmly focused on Mo.

Matt struggled to fill the void in conversation while they waited for the bill. They had exhausted all topics except one.

“So, are you dating anyone?” Matt finally asked.

Dana smiled. “Yes, I am.”

“Great,” he responded with as much warmth, sincerity and interest as he could muster. “Anyone I know?”

“I don’t think so. His name is Jeffrey Rosen. He’s a doctor, a psychiatrist, actually. A long-time friend of the family.”

“Is it serious?”

“We’re engaged.” She smiled as she extended her hand toward him and wiggled her fingers. On her left index finger was a rock, a very big rock, surrounded by two other slightly smaller rocks. Only a man would have missed this very substantial and extremely tangible proof of undying love. Matt didn’t know a damn thing about diamonds, but he was impressed.

“We’re getting married in six months.”

She began to talk about her fiancé, his successful private practice providing therapy to the Miami Beach crowd, his family here in South Florida and the life that he and Dana had started to build together. It sounded like everything Dana had ever wanted.

The waitress finally returned with the bill. Matt quickly paid, gesturing Dana away when she attempted to contribute.

They said their good-byes, as they waited for the valet attendants to bring their cars.

“Listen, Matt,” Dana said as she got into her Mercedes SL Class convertible. “I’ll do everything I can for Mo. You know that, right?”

“I do, Dana,” Matt replied as another valet attendant pulled up behind her car in his Jeep. “And I really appreciate it.”

Matt knew she meant it but he wasn’t sure how much she could do. Whatever it was, he hoped it was enough.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ALEX DORAN HAD continued to call and email Matt since the day they had lunch in Coconut Grove. Her emails and calls were friendly and in some cases flirtatious but each time they ended with a reminder that he had said he would let her interview him. At first, he had taken the calls and responded to the emails but avoided making any firm commitment about the interview. At the same time, he picked her brain about what she learned from Bob. She didn’t appear to know much more than what she had originally told him.

After a few of these phone calls, he decided he couldn’t keep stringing her along. He decided to tell her what was going on. He hated being dishonest and he thought her research skills might be helpful. After he told her about his conversion with Stephen, he shouldn’t have been surprised when she asked if she could join Matt the day he was supposed to meet up with Stephen again. There was something about her that still made him cautious -- he wasn’t sure whether it was fear of sharing the story with someone or something else -- but he ultimately agreed.

Alex arrived at Matt’s house one hour before the appointed time. She was wearing a fitted blue button down shirt and khaki pants that hugged her body and stopped just above brown flat shoes. She had a brown messenger bag slung across her torso and resting on her right hip. They left in Matt’s Jeep.

They traveled up and down several back roads of Coconut Grove, back tracking and retracing their steps, with Matt checking frequently in the rear view mirror. An amateur in evasion tactics, Matt had no idea whether they were really being followed or not. After twenty minutes of this, he pulled up in the parking lot of the Coconut Grove community center, very close to where they had actually started off.

“Let’s go,” he said, jumping out.

Instead of heading toward the building, Matt walked quickly to the back of the parking lot. He looked around before veering off to the right toward a path at the end of the asphalt, with Alex following closely. He had traveled this route regularly when he took the train to
The Chronicle
offices downtown. Ahead, he could see the stairway to the bridge that crossed above US-1 and led to the Metrorail Station for Miami’s heavy rail rapid transit system. Matt heard a train approaching and turned to see that it was a northbound train.

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