“We can keep an eye on the money, correct?” I ask.
Their informant is overseas, working for a bank in the Ukraine, and passed their handler information that money is being transferred from several oligarchs to this Russian national and it’s supposedly destined for the US.
The problem is, Belyaevskin is using a worldwide religious pseudo-organization as his cover—a religious organization which has a C Street townhouse and counts many US lawmakers among its numbers in DC—and the funds are being set up as destined for charitable uses.
A worldwide religious organization that claims it’s not an “organization” yet seems to have their fingers in a bunch of related pies all around the globe.
“Yes, sir,” the second agent says.
“So we have nothing more than a bunch of rumors at this point?”
The agents exchange a glance and Agent Two speaks. “Rumors that, so far, have been substantiated at every juncture, sir.”
“But we don’t know for certain what’s supposed to happen once that money makes it to the US, correct? We damned sure don’t have anything close to actionable cause to apprehend the guy when he returns to the US next week.” I indicate the briefing book in my lap. “I’m no attorney but even I can see that. Not unless you’re holding stuff back.”
“As we said, sir,” Agent One responds, “we’re—”
“Developing it,” I interrupt. “Yeah, that’s what you already said.” I draw in a deep breath and slowly blow it out. “If things change rapidly,” I tell them, “I want to know. If a FISA warrant is applied for, I’d better be notified. Or as soon as you figure out what the hell the guy’s up to and have proof of it.”
I remove my glasses and toss them onto my desk so I can rub my eyes. “I know there are a lot of people deep inside The Family up to no good but that doesn’t equate to widespread violence. Not to mention there are plenty of them who are just people doing their thing. We start blundering in there without evidence and for once the conservatives will rightfully scream about separation of church and state, violations of religious freedoms and speech, and all their usual bullshit.”
I look at them again. “And there’s never been any kind of organized violence tied to them that we’re aware of, correct? Or are we aware of something I haven’t been read in about before now?”
“No, sir,” Agent One says. “Not that we’re aware of.”
“Then why are we so eager to believe this is different? That it’s not exactly what they say it’s going to be? Fishy, sure, but maybe they’re simply setting up dark-money PACs. Political fuckery isn’t on the same level as potential violence.”
Agent Two speaks up. “The quality and placement of the source, sir. She’s a romantic partner and he bragged about it to her. She was able to log into his account from his phone with his credentials and took screenshots.”
“And what’s their eventual goal?” I close the briefing book and return it to Agent One. “Let’s game this out. Assume the oligarchs are funneling money to this guy. Also assume he’s working with this religious organization and the money will be used to fund some sort of domestic violence here. Why are the oligarchs doing that?”
“Destabilization,” they echo in unison before Agent One takes over. “Holdovers from the old regime who want to see our democracy destabilized.”
“Osama bin Laden tried that,” I counter. “Didn’t work out so well for him. Or Russia.”
“No but they like the chaos it creates in the markets,” Agent Two says. “Plus, if they can sow enough discord to throw doubt on our democratic process, it helps destabilize things and keeps our attention focused here instead of elsewhere. That gives them freedom to move with impunity and attempt things like meddling in the politics of more vulnerable countries.”
“Like Ukraine.”
They both nod.
It’s a lot to think about. We finish and they see themselves out, leaving me sitting there and pondering the full ramifications if the worst-case scenario comes to pass.
It’s easier now than ever to intercept intel between the non-professional disruptors of our peace because no civilian digital platform is completely secure. The human element tends to negate most of whatever security the software supposedly provides: people buy burner phones with personal credit cards, or purchase them too close to home and too close to the time period of when they plan to use them so they show up on security tapes; they use the burner to message friends and family and cohorts on their own phones instead of secure burners; they stupidly identify themselves by name, or post pictures or other identifiable media that law enforcement can pull geotags or other metadata from; they log into their home or work Internet instead of using a VPN to help hide their tracks.
It’s ridiculously easy for us to track someone who cockily thinks it’s easy to keep their tracks hidden. Then there are the people who screw up, law enforcement snares them, and they flip on their cohorts, which completely nullifies their attempts to stay under the radar.
Which is why Leo was ridiculously cautious with our personal communications for so many years. Still is, but at least we have Jordan as our go-between now.
While the potential ramifications are concerning if anything develops from the intel, it’s far from the most pressing item on my plate at this time. During my two years in this job I’ve learned to prioritize potential threats so I don’t waste valuable mental and emotional energy obsessing.
See? Icanlearn new skills. I can also multi-task when it comes to aggravations.
Like my sister’s insistence on inserting herself—and people of her choosing—into my life.
Right now I have twenty minutes before my next meeting. Before I have time to think about this too long I pick up the desk phone and have my administrative assistant get Stella on the phone.
On her cell phone.
