Elisabeth Manning had been playing with fire on an Internet chatroom. She did not know her conversations had been monitored until three investigators appeared in her boss's office. Their solution was not quite what Elisabeth had been expecting but then again she might be prepared to do almost anything to prevent word getting back to her husband.
EXTRACT
`Have you heard of ECHELON, Elisabeth? It's not exactly a secret, the
European Parliament even had a debate about it a while ago, but it's
not publicized much here in the States.
`ECHELON stations are only based on US soil or on the soil of
our closest allies, the UK, Canada, Australia and New Zealand. They
intercept huge amounts of telephone, fax and email messages from all
around the planet: some reports say maybe up to three billion messages
every twenty-four hours. The ECHELON computers scan each message for
suspicious words or addresses. And it happens that the guy you've been
writing to so freely is on our watch list of suspected terrorists.
That's why ECHELON has been copying all the emails he sends and
receives, and that's why we're here.`
Elisabeth gaped at the agent in stunned disbelief: `But he's
just a guy I met in a chat room. His name's Jesse Kansas, he lives in
LA. He seems like any other guy. Why would I think he's got anything
to do with any terrorists?`
`His offline name is Abbas Sarak, he was born in the Gaza strip,
and two of his family have been suicide bombers. We think he has links
with Hamas. But it's true he can pass as an ordinary American citizen.
There's no reason why he shouldn't, he's been living in the States
since he was five.`
`But I didn't know anything about any of that! I was just
chatting to some guy in LA!`
`Chatting?` The other guy, Jarrel, was grinning at her.
Elisabeth felt her cheeks flush as she realized they must all
have read the emails she'd sent to Jesse, or whatever the hell is name
really was. Oh, God!
Scott edged an inch or two closer to her along the edge of the
desk: `Elisabeth, let me explain how the system works on something
like this. A red light comes and a team like ours goes out to check on
whether it's a genuine alarm or a false one. And if we decide it's a
false alarm and sign off on that, then we get the blame if we've made
a wrong call. If there's an incident down the track which leaves
thousands of US citizens dead and it turns out it was because this
investigating team made a mistake . . . well, our careers would be the
least of our worries. We'd probably end up squatting inside cages in
Cuba ourselves. You'd understand that.`
Elisabeth nodded: her throat had suddenly tightened as if a noose was
being put around it.
`OK, so what we do first off in a situation like this is a
background check on the subject we're interested in. That's mainly
pulling together our computer sources. So when I checked on you,
Elisabeth, I found Ms Straight as an Arrow lady. Elisabeth Mary
Manning, aged 32, has worked for the Department of Transportation for
seven years, married to a nice guy called Peter for three years. Peter
is a lobbyist for the chemical industry, doing very nicely, thank you,
and you live with your nice guy as a nice couple in a nice
twelve-story condominium with a nice view of the Potomac River. Nice
seems to be the only four letter word I can find in your background,
Elisabeth. Maybe it should even be stamped in big gold letters across
the cover of your dossier.`
He got up and walked over to the window, looking out across E Street
towards St Dominic's Church: `What do you think, Jarrel? Do you think
Ms Manning is nice?`
Jarrel had folded his arms and was grinning over them down at
Elisabeth. `Sure, she's nice. Nice long blonde hair, nice face, nice
figure, nice boobs. Yes, Elisabeth is certainly nice.`
`Hey!` Elisabeth protested at the agent's comments on her
breasts.
`Elisabeth,` Scott cut in, `I think I really need to make you
understand where we might be going from here. Now, one choice is to
say that you're this altogether nice lady who just happened to get in
touch with the wrong guy and now you know the score, the problem's
over. If you worked for an insurance company and your husband was a
dentist, that's probably, what I'd do. I'd just warn you about not
contacting Abbas Sarak again and then walk out of your life.
Unfortunately . . .` Scott's voice trailed off as if he was unwilling
to break some bad news. He glanced towards the female agent.
`Catherine, let's hear from you.`
Catherine gave Elisabeth the sort of smile a wolverine would
give a trapped rabbit.
`But you don't work for an insurance company, Elisabeth. You
work for the Transportation Department and since 9/11, that's become
one of the most sensitive areas of government administration. Plus
your husband knows just about everything there is to know about most
of the chemical plants across the country. You two are a terrorist's
dream couple: you can tell them how to hi-jack a plane and your
husband knows exactly where crashing it will cause the most damage to
a target city. No way will I certify you're in the clear until we've
done a positive check on you and your husband.`
`Yes, that's our problem,` Scott agreed, still speaking as if he
were rather regretful about the situation.
He came over and sat on the desk again, even closer to
Elisabeth.
`Or rather it's your problem, Ms nice lady Manning. You see,
when people know that Homeland Security have got an interest in
somebody close to them, they get very antsy. To do a positive check,
we have to ask around. Once the Transportation Department knows about
your contacts with a possible Hamas link man, well . . . I guess they
couldn't just up and fire you, Elisabeth, but I think you'd be well
out of the loop promotion wise. In fact, I think you'd probably find
yourself working your time out in some cubicle so far down in the
basement that you'll be able to hear the trains going past.`
`Of course, it's your husband we'd really be sorry about,`
Jarrel added. He didn't look any sorrier than Catherine Haught did.
`My husband? Peter? Why?` Elisabeth was now very alarmed
indeed.
`Think about it,` Catherine suggested in a smug way. `A lobbyist
who has Homeland Security going around to all his contacts warning
them to be careful about what they say to Peter Manning? How much
lobbying will he be doing after that? He'll never see the inside of
another office in Washington. I doubt if he'll even find anybody
willing to sign him into any Federal building long enough to take a
leak.`
`But this is crazy!` Elisabeth protested. `I'm a patriotic
American citizen, and so is Peter. We'd never betray our country. I
had no idea who I was emailing with!`
Scott half turned towards her, lifted up his well polished shoe
and pushed against the side of her swivel seat until it had moved
around for Elisabeth to be facing him.
`Well, that's it, Elisabeth, that's what we've got to decide on,
here and now. Do I tell your boss that everything is fine and give him
a memo of thanks for his department's co-operation? Or do I go back to
my boss and tell him that Elisabeth Manning needs some serious
checking out? Just for starters, we're going to need to speak to all
the guys from your school and college background about your sexual
behaviour. Because, according to your emails, you seem to have some
problems there. Well, if I were your husband, I'd certainly call them
problems. Have you ever told him about what happened in the boatshed
at that summer camp?`
Jarrel sniggered as the hot tide rose even closer to the surface
of Elisabeth's face: `Nothing like that ever happened,` she said. `I
was just role playing, that was all. Making up a story to send to a
guy I was fooling around with. Some day I'd like to be a writer and
maybe I let my imagination run away a bit.`
`Your imagination!` Catherine was smiling in open disbelief.
`Some imagination.`
Jarrel was laughing as well: `Elisabeth, you even described the
type of boat you got bent over. I'm with Catherine; if your
imagination is that good you should be working in Hollywood instead of
Washington.`
`Let's just recap on what you wrote to Abbas, Elisabeth,` Scott
said. `You told him that you were at a school camp in the mountains
working as a counsellor. While you were swimming with another
counsellor you saw two boys pick up your bags, wave to you, and then
go into a boatshed. So you and your friend followed them into the shed
to get your bags back, right?`
Elisabeth shook her head in renewed denial: `It was something I
made up, that's all. It never really happened. Please don't talk about
it.`
`Fine, we won't talk about it. I'll just tell my boss that
you've got a psychological problem you don't want to discuss,` Scott
replied calmly. `Personally, Elisabeth, I think you're that kind of
nice girl who gets hot and bothered every time a bunch of bikers ride
past. I think you have a real desire to be made to perform group sex
and I also think that's something that could really turn you on to
working for a terrorist cell. Being gangbanged in a back room by a
bunch of unshaven tough guys waving AK-47's around would really make
your day, wouldn't it, Elisabeth? Even it wouldn't be quite such a
nice thing to happen to such a nice lady.`
`That's not true! I don't want to do anything like that and I'm
not going to talk about it.`
`You don't have to argue with me, Elisabeth. If you say you
don't want to talk to us, no sweat. We've already said all we came to
say, so we'll walk.`
`No, no, please don't go,` Elisabeth, begged urgently. `This
would kill Peter. Please, I'll do anything you want me to do to prove
this is all a mistake.`
`Will you?` Scott asked mildly. He raised his shoe again,
resting it on the seat between her legs.
`How about undoing my shoe then?`
