'What did he say?'
'He said he wanted to meet with you, and he wanted me to set it up.'
'So who is he?'
'You're not going to believe it. Head of security for the State Department.'
'The State Department?'
'Yep.'
'What does he want to talk to me about?'
'Wouldn't say.'
'Well, shit, Tinny. What do you make of this?'
'I thought it was a joke. Another one of Hackett's head fakes. I checked him out. He's legit.'
'So now what?'
'So now you tell me whether you want to meet with him. But I've got to say, I didn't feel like we had a lot of choice here. We're going to hear what he has to say no matter what.'
I looked out my window, down the dark street. 'Set it up.'
We met the next night. It was to be at my office at 10 PM. Byrd arrived at nine thirty. 'Michael,' Byrd said, extending his hand.
'Tinny. How are you doing?'
'Good. So here we are.'
'Yeah. To quote Dustin Hoffman, 'Is it 'safe'?' '
Byrd smiled. 'Good flick. I don't know if it's safe. We're dealing with the government, and they aren't going to do anything too stupid. But here we are at ten o'clock at night meeting someone from the State Department in Annapolis. Can't say I've done that before.'
'Why the late hour?'
'Don't know for sure. I expect they want to be able to deny they ever met you if this goes south.'
'If what goes south?'
'Well, we're about to find out,' he said, looking over my shoulder at the phone as it lit and rang. 'Here we go.'
I turned and answered it.
A man said, 'We're out front. Please let us in.'
'It's open. Come on up to the second floor.'
The line went dead.
We heard the door below open and two men walk up the stairs. I went to the door of my office, from which I could see the top of the steps. 'Over here,' I said.
They walked into my office. The first man extended his hand to Tinny. 'Mr. Byrd, good to see you again.'
'Likewise. This is Mike Nolan.'
The man turned toward me. 'Thank you for coming. I'm Chris Thompson.'
I shook his hand. 'And who is this?' I said, watching the other man approach.
'This is my associate Joe Galvin.' Thompson was about my size but at least ten years older. Dark hair, cut short with gray throughout, and definitely in shape. He had dark eyes and an intense look. He said, 'Thanks for meeting with us. I know this is a little out of the ordinary, but so are the circumstances. May we sit down?'
'Of course.' I indicated the two seats in front of my desk. Byrd sat on the arm of the couch slightly behind them. Galvin didn't like that at all, but couldn't do anything about it.
Thompson said, 'First, before I go on, I want to ask you both for your personal guarantees of confidentiality. May I have your assurance?'
'Why should I?' I asked.
'Because what I have to say to you is for your own good, and frankly for the good of the country. If you cannot keep the contents of our conversation confidential, then I cannot say what I need to say to you.'
'Why would that concern me?'
'Because you need to hear it.'
'Okay. For now.'
Thompson looked at me sharply. 'I need your assurance that you will keep it confidential forever.'
I looked at Byrd. 'Okay. Unless I don't like the way it's going; then I'll stop listening and we'll be done.'
Thompson looked at Tinny. 'And you, Mr. Byrd?'
'Sure.'
'Do you have any recording devices on you?'
'No.'
'You wouldn't mind if Joe checked, would you?'
'Yes, I'd mind.'
'Well, I insist.'
Joe checked Tinny for a tape recorder.
Thompson said, 'Let me get right to the point-'
'Before you do,' I said, 'who are you?'
'I work for the State Department. My boss reports directly to the secretary. We're in INR.'
'Sorry?'
'Bureau of Intelligence and Research.'
'Intelligence?'
'Yes. For the State Department.'
'Didn't know there was such a thing.'
'Few do. My role is really more about security.'
'So what can I do for you?'
'Very simple.' Thompson looked at Byrd, then back at me. 'You've been talking to a certain Secret Service agent. He seems to have a soft spot for other former Marines.' He looked directly at Byrd. 'I'm a former Marine too. Grunt. Retired, twenty years as a lieutenant colonel. I saw a lot. Spent a lot of time floating around with MEUs. So I get the idea of camaraderie between former Marines.'
'Go on.'
'Well, this Secret Service agent overstepped his bounds. He has been considering talking to Mr. Byrd and may have mentioned a document he isn't even supposed to have. It was a breach of protocol and security for him to keep a copy. It is a State Department document.'
'So? And what is the document?'
'You have asked Mr. Byrd to continue to push on this agent, and I suspect you intend to try use him or his 'document' in trial, if your case comes to that. You need to assure me that you won't ask this witness about what he has or saw, and you won't try to dig any deeper about it.'
'Are you serious?' I said, outraged. 'What he knows could be the key to the entire accident.'
'It isn't. That's the point,' Thompson said. 'The meeting at Camp David had nothing to do with the accident. The helicopter went down because of faulty balancing of the blade and the tip weights.'
I stared at him, barely able to contain my annoyance. 'Are you telling me the NTSB knows who was at the meeting and the document that Secret Service agent has?'
'Of course they do.'
'Why wasn't that part of their press conference?'
'Because it has nothing to do with the accident, and if someone discusses it and the contents get out, it will cause an international incident.'
'How would it cause an international incident?'
'You need to stop pursuing this agent.'
'I can't do that.'
'You have to.'
'No, I don't.'
'If you pursue it, we will make it very difficult for you.'
'Now the threats.'
'These aren't threats. If you push, we will push back.'
I glanced at Tinny, who was silent. 'I'll just subpoena the agent to trial.'
'No, you won't. And if you did, it wouldn't matter. He no longer has a copy of that document. He was kind enough to give it to me. Any testimony he might have would be hearsay and not admissible, I'm told. So any such efforts on your part would be futile. And Mr. Byrd here,' Thompson said, looking at Byrd, 'gave the agent his word that he would never tell you what the agent's name was. We all know at least one thing: Mr. Byrd is good for his word. Right, Mr. Byrd?'
I stood up. 'Thanks for coming, but I'm going to keep going just like I have been. I need to find the truth.'
'No, you don't. Even if you find out, it won't help you. Lay off. For your own good.'
'What the hell is that supposed to mean?'
Thompson lowered his voice to almost a whisper and stood to look me right in the eye. 'Meaning you have no idea what you're dealing with here. You're out of your league. Just let it go. Leave the Camp David angle out of it. It's a dead end.'
