“Can’t wait to hear all about it.”
“Are the kids still at robotics club?” she asks.
“Marco’s family is hosting a viewing party for a soccer, excuse me, football match for the entire fifth grade.”
“Forza Italia!” she cheers.
“You said it. So I used your frighteningly detailed presentation to bring Hank up to speed.”
Hank nods on the screen. “You have evidence that the attack in The Payback is inspired by a 1991 attack in Adana. And Leo tells me Mr. Rye is writing a second book.”
“Right, and we think this one, The Takedown, is based on an incident that happened in 1992.”
“Leo said the plot involves gas pipeline sabotage, and you two believed the sabotage actually happened to a portion of the Colonial Pipeline and was covered up.”
“It sounds utterly unbelievable, I know. But if you let me walk you through?—”
“Leo already did. I think it’s entirely feasible. Especially given that time.”
She sits back. “Oh.” Gives Leo a sidelong look. “Good job, honey.”
“Thanks,” he says dryly. “Now let us bring you up to speed.”
“In the immediate wake of the end of the Cold War, the intelligence community—especially the CIA—was in shambles. All of a sudden, they had an unclear mandate and new rules of engagement. Most people rode it out. But some folks jumped ship and went to the NSA. A very few moved to the FBI, but as you can imagine, they didn’t like each other any more back then than they do now,” Hank explains.
“And some went to less official pastures.” Leo waits a beat.
Sasha blinks. Then she blinks again.
“What are you saying?”
Hank ’s expression is serious. “After the Cold War ended, the Lighthouse absorbed a lot of former CIA operatives. Hardliners who couldn’t accept that the Berlin Wall fell. They kept pushing for operations that looked more like Cold War provocations than modern intelligence work. They were especially fond of false flag operations.”
“Wait. How do you know all this? You’ve been with the Lighthouse exactly as long as we have. I don’t remember any of this from orientation.”
Hank chuckles. “While you two are old in the field, I’m sitting around drinking truly dreadful coffee and swapping war stories with the other handlers. So I’ve heard the story of Colonial Shield and Purge of ’96.”
“I wish we had popcorn,” Sasha whispers.
Leo covers his laugh with a cough.
“Colonial Shield was, as the story goes, the breaking point. A domestic infrastructure attack to justify increased security funding. When it went sideways, a fierce battle for control broke out. After a period of intense chaos, new leadership emerged and decided the old guard had to go. They purged about forty operatives.”
“Tell her about the Archivist,” Leo urges.
“After they purged operatives and the dust settled, the new leadership started purging records. Any evidence of operations that would cast a cloud over the ‘new’ Lighthouse, including proof of illegal domestic activities, was supposed to be incinerated. Colonial Shield was a prime example. But there were rumors about files that vanished before they could be incinerated. People whispered that someone saved records that were marked for destruction.”
“Why save them?” Sasha asks.
“Insurance. Leverage. Historical preservation. Take your pick. Legend has it the Archivist walked away after the purge, took the files with them, and disappeared. No one’s seen the records since.”
“I bet you tell a mean bedtime story,” Sasha told Hank.
“My kids think so.”
“Is this real?”
“Nobody knows. But if Caleb Rye has information from Operation Colonial Shield, then, I’d say it’s pretty real.”
