To Free a Spy Read Free Page A

there for training, to the army and to his employees, but he owed the president the courtesy of listening. He waited for Cross to continue.
    Cross briefed Warfield on the FBI’s investigation of Joplan. They had been trying for months to get enough evidence to convict him before they arrested him but ten days ago he was boarding a flight to Paris and they had to pick him up before they wanted to. Joplan was not cooperating and the FBI director, Earl Fullwood, couldn’t give Cross any assurance that he ever would. Of course the most urgent problem was to find out who Joplan’s present contact was. Then they would determine the damage he’d done within the CIA and attempt to mitigate it.
    The FBI had filed an affidavit in federal court detailing what it had on Joplan so far, in order to persuade the judge to allow the Bureau to search his house, office, cars and computer hard drives. The judge was reluctant based on the slender evidence but agreed to the searches with the condition that Joplan would be released in seven days unless substantial new evidence was uncovered.
    With that said, Cross paused and looked at Warfield.
    Warfield still wasn’t clear on why Cross needed him. The Bureau understood the requirements and had the people to press the investigation. That was what the Bureau did, wasn’t it?
    “So what did you have in mind for me, Mr. President?”
    “Take Joplan over.”
    Warfield was stunned.
    He didn’t think highly of FBI chief Earl Fullwood but the Bureau had its resources. And unlike in the old days, the CIA cooperated with the FBI in the investigation when either agency had a security problem like Joplan.
    Warfield stood up and ambled around the room for a minute as he gathered his thoughts. “Don’t see how it would work, Mr. President. You’ve got the FBI, the CIA. They’re not bad at what they do. I can tell you they wouldn’t hang out any yellow ribbons for me to come in and claim the prey they just brought down. They opposed Lone Elm, as you remember. And I’m not too hot to work with them, either, to tell you the truth. All that rigmarole they have to go through. The bureaucracy, the press. Criminal rights to the point of absurdity. I’m more into the kind of work where we don’t have so many rules. Even made my own a time or two,” Warfield said.
    Cross nodded. “That’s why this case needs you, Cam. You’d take Joplan out of their hands for awhile. Work on your own, from this room we’re sitting in. Whatever staff you need is here.” He threw his hands out to indicate the vastness of the resources available.
    “With all respect, sir, I don’t see how it would be any different with me. Somebody here goes to the john and the newspapers write a front-page story about it. ACLU or some other group files a lawsuit. We fill up all the file cabinets with denials, rebuttals, explanations. Everything moves an inch per millennium. Pretty soon I’d be as bogged down as the FBI or any other outfit here in Washington.”
    Cross nodded. “That’s just it, Cam. Only a handful here will know what you’re doing. No reporters coming around. Your name won’t be on anybody’s list. You need red tape cut, some rules bent, that kind of thing, you call me. You already have all the security clearance anyone can get. No one will be checking to see where you are. You’ll report to me, maybe through Paula at times—she knows how to get around the roadblocks. Lot of autonomy to act on your own judgment, and a phone number that’ll reach me anywhere in a couple of minutes when you need me.”
    Warfield had to admit it made some sense. His existence wouldn’t be known outside of a small circle—Fullwood from FBI, CIA’s Quinn, the secretary of state, the national security advisor. And even they wouldn’t have to know much if Cross wanted it that way.
    Warfield sat down and finished the last of his coffee. “What’s the Joplan investigation turned up so far?”
    Cross pushed the Joplan file