A Sense of Justice Read online

  a sense of justice

  a secret service novel

  jack davis

  Copyright Page

  Copyright©Jack Davis

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-978-1-7332058-0-1

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to take this opportunity to thank the legions of people who have helped make this book possible. Without their help, encouragement and insight it would have remained a series of interesting (I hope) and unusual chapters from my twenty-seven-year career in law enforcement.

  First, I would like to thank the members of three writers’ groups – Chantilly, Herndon and Blue Ridge – which I have been fortunate enough to participate in. Their feedback and friendships have been invaluable.

  I need to recognize and thank my editors (professional and amateur). Their comments, critique and edits have made the manuscript infinitely better. MAK, Erik, MeG and Chris Rhatigan; a sincere thanks for all your hard work.

  Next, I would like to thank my Beta Readers. Your thoughtful comments and kind encouragement is much appreciates. In particular, I would like to thank MAK, Louise and Sue.

  If a reader enjoys this book, I guarantee it is in large part due to the tireless efforts of the individuals who struggled through my first drafts. If they don’t enjoy it, I take full responsibility.

  Regarding the book cover; Kristen McGregor is fabulous to work with; I recommend her highly.

  I want to thank my family for putting up with me and this project for so long. It’s finally over…sort of. I love you all.

  Lastly, I need to thank the men and women of the Secret Service; past, present and future. You truly are the best in the world. Stay safe.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my grandparents: James, Eleanor, Patrick, and Sylvia, all members of the Greatest Generation. Throughout their lives they exemplified the virtues synonymous with that generation.

  Acronyms

  Secret Service

  AD: The Assistant Directors are agents (now two are non-agent personnel) who oversee the major components within the Secret Service (AD PO, the Assistant Director Protective Operations, is in charge of all protection matters for the Service. AD Investigations is in charge of all investigative matters for the Service, etc.). These positions report directly to the director of the Secret Service.

  API: The Annual Physical Inventory, inventory of all assigned equipment.

  ASAIC: The Assistant Special Agent in Charge, or ASAIC (pronounced a-sack), is normally a GS-15 position and oversees portions of a field office or protective detail.

  AT: Short for ATSAIC. Pronounced A T.

  ATSAIC: The Assistant to the Special Agent in Charge is a GS 14 supervisor in a field office or permanent protective detail, normally under an ASAIC in the table of organization.

  CAT: The Counter Assault Team, the tactical/SWAT team that accompanies the president, vice president, and high-level foreign dignitaries.

  DAD: The Deputy Assistant Directors are positions directly below the AD.

  Deputy: The Deputy Director is the number two person in the Secret Service hierarchy.

  Director: The agent in charge of the entire Secret Service. He/She reports to the secretary of Homeland Security.

  DL/ADL: The Detail leader/Assistant Detail Leader is the agent in charge/second in command of a temporary protective detail (foreign dignitary or candidate nominee details).

  DNA: Do not admit is put into the file of an individual who is no longer allowed physical access to a facility. Their privileges have been revoked.

  DSAIC: The Deputy Special Agent In Charge, or DSAIC (pronounced d-sack, never as individual letters), is the immediate backup to the SAIC for large field offices and permanent protective details. Smaller offices will not have a DSAIC in their table of organization.

  ECSAP: The Electronic Crimes Special Agent Program is a world-class program within the Secret Service that teaches agents how to conduct forensics on all forms of digital media (phones, computers, networks, etc.).

  ECTF: The Electronic Crimes Task Force, law enforcement task forces set up in the major field offices specifically designed to address high-tech crimes (computer hacking, cellphone fraud, ATM scams, etc.).

  FO: There are only three field offices that are referred to via letters, New York (NYFO), Los Angeles (LAFO), and Washington (WFO). All other field offices are referred to by the city name, Chicago, Miami, Charlotte, etc.

  FSD: The Forensic Services Division, a division within the Secret Service that does, among other things, handwriting analysis, polygraph examinations, ink analysis, etc.

  Group Leader: Large field offices are broken down into squads (Fraud, Protection, Intelligence, Admin, etc.). Squads are normally controlled by an ATSAIC. The subgroups under the squad is an informal group. The individual in charge of this is called a Group Leader, normally a senior GS 13.

  IOD: Investigation Other District. An official request through headquarters by a field office to initiate an investigation in another Secret Service district.

  PPD/The Detail: Presidential Protective Division.

  RON: Remain Over Night (always pronounced as individual letters R O N). Generic term used in the government. Can be a noun – “What’s the RON? The Waldorf,” or a verb – “We’re gonna RON at the Waldorf.”

  RA: Resident Agency (pronounced as individual letters) is a smaller sub-office under a larger field office. For instance, the White Plains RA is one of the smaller offices that falls under the NYFO. It is supervised by a RAIC (Resident Agent In Charge).

  SA/Agent: Special agents are the foundation of the field offices and protective details of the Secret Service. They conduct the investigations, provide personnel for protection of foreign dignitary protective details (foreign digs) and provide support for the permanent protective details (PPD, VPPD, former presidents). Government scale (GS) 5-13. GS 13 is the “journeyman grade.”

  SAIC: The Special Agent In Charge, or SAIC (pronounced either as individual letters, S A I C, or as one word with the I silent, sack) is the agent in charge of a particular field office or permanent protective detail (president, vice president, former president, etc.).

  Sig: The Sig Sauer is the primary sidearm carried in the Secret Service.

  Sup: Short for supervisor (pronounced soup).

  UD: The Uniformed Division includes officers who, among other duties, protect the White House, the Vice President’s Residence, and Foreign Missions.

  VPPD: The Vice Presidential Protective Division.

  Law Enforcement – General

  APT: Advanced Persistent Threat is a classified (yet well-known), high-level computer intrusion set from the late nineties and early-to-mid-2000s. Nation-state level capabilities are required for this level of sophistication.

  BOLO: Be on the lookout.

  CBP: Customs and Border Protection.

  CI: Confidential Informant.

  CQB/CQC: Close Quarters Battle or Close Quarters Combat.

  DHS: Department of Homeland Security.

  Five-by-five: Radio terminology for loud (signal strength) and clear (clarity). One-by-one would be weak and almost inaudible.

  FNU/LNU: First name unknown/ last name unknown.

  GBI: Georgia Bureau of Investigations.

  IG/OIG: Inspector General/Office of Inspector General.

  Legat: FBI Legal Attaché Program refers to agent/agents assigned to the foreign embassies.

  PII: Personally identifiable information. Date of birth, social security number, etc.

  SAC/ASAC: Special Agent in Charge/Assistant Special Agent in Charge. The FBI refers to their agents in charge slightly different than the Service. They do not include the I and just refer to them as S A C.

&nb
sp; SIPRNET: Secure Internet Protocol Network refers to a classified computer network. Can handle up to Secret-level email.

  Stack: A formation in CQB/CQC where the team is set one man behind the other ready to move to the next room/area.

  UC: Undercover.

  Information Technology

  BIOS: A Basic Input Output System is the first firmware to run when a computer is powered on.

  Bot/Bots/Botnet (see also Zombie): In this context, bots are computers that are surreptitiously controlled by a hacker. The hacker uses it as part of a bot army/botnet to conduct attacks against web sites or other users, sending so much traffic to the site that legitimate users cannot get through (DDOS/DOS attack).

  DB: Database.

  DOA: Dead on analysis is a means by which a hacking code erases itself if someone other than the author tries to analyze it.

  DOS/DDOS attack: Distributed Denial of Service attack. See also Bots.

  FPS: First-person shooter is a genre of video game where the player is the shooter.

  Hash Sets: For the purposes of this book, this term refers to a “fingerprint” of a piece of software. Every software package has a unique hash set. By comparing the software on a machine to a known hash set, an investigator can identify the software and tell if there have been modifications.

  ISP: Internet Service Provider.

  MAC Address: A Media Access Control Address is a unique identifier assigned to a network interface controller of a computer.

  MMORPG: Massively Multiplayer Online Role-playing Game.

  Nic: Short for nickname on the internet.

  OS: Operating System.

  OTS: Off the shelf. Commercially available programs.

  Proxy: A proxy server is a computer system or application that acts as an intermediary between other clients (computers) seeking resources.

  PvP: Player vs Player refers to live interaction between two players in an online game.

  Sys Admin: Systems Administrators are the individuals responsible for running a computer network or parts of it.

  VPN: A Virtual Private Network extends a private network across the internet.

  Zombie: In computing, a zombie is a computer that has been compromised by a hacker and can be used to perform malicious tasks under remote direction. Botnets (see Bots) are a collection of zombie computers that are often used to launch DDOS attacks or spread email spam.

  In the depths of every heart, there is a tomb and a dungeon, though the lights, the music, and revelry above may cause us to forget their existence, and the buried ones, or prisoners whom they hide. But sometimes, and oftenest at midnight, those dark receptacles are flung wide open. In an hour like this, when the mind has a passive sensibility, but no active strength; when the imagination is a mirror, imparting vividness to all ideas, without the power of selecting or controlling them; then pray that your grieves may slumber, and the brotherhood of remorse not break their chain.

  - Nathaniel Hawthorne -

  part one

  1 | The Daltons

  Washington, DC, 07/18/01, 1635 hours

  Tourons! It had to be the fuckin’ tourons. Paul Dalton had been alternating between the gas and brake for thirty minutes and still hadn’t reached the Teddy Roosevelt Bridge. The TRB was a mere two miles from his office at the National Endowment for the Arts and should have been fifteen minutes in normal traffic. That had just doubled, and Paul still wasn’t on the span that led to relative freedom on the other side of the Potomac. His bright yellow Camaro had been lurching toward the bridge in twenty-foot increments since leaving the NEA garage. And now at 4:35 p.m., like hundreds of thousands of other residents of Northern Virginia, he was being funneled toward one of the four main exits out of the nation’s capital.

  Constitution Avenue was a parking lot, and after cycling through three traffic reports without hearing of any major accidents, all Paul could chalk it up to was the tourons. This was the name he used for the tourists/morons who overran the city every summer. To Paul it was akin to the swallows returning to Capistrano, except DC’s migratory creatures brought congestion, comb-overs, and worst of all, country music.

  They gawked at sites like the White House and Washington Monument. In so doing, they ground DC traffic to a halt in late June and July, though not as much in August when most of the federal government was on vacation. But this was not August, it was July, and it seemed to Paul that every inbred hayseed on the planet was in front of him driving their late-model Clampett-mobile at four miles an hour.

  Paul had lived in the national capital region far too long to have retained any appreciation for the sites that the rest of the country only saw on television or in the movies. He had long since stopped seeing the beauty of the marble edifices built to honor Jefferson or Lincoln. He no longer noticed the Vietnam Memorial or the Reflecting Pool. All Paul Dalton saw were taillights and tour buses. After commuting in and out of DC for over six years, he had seen everything he wanted to see and now just wanted these idiots out of his way. These overweight, Bermuda shorts-wearing, farmer-tanned clods from places like Oshkosh, Wisconsin, and Garden City, Kansas, had just turned his thirty-two-mile, eighty-five-minute commute into something that was shaping up to be over two hours.

  The traffic only added to what Paul already considered a taxing day at work. A particularly controversial exhibit was being considered for public display. The museum curator on the Upper West Side of Manhattan had resisted that particular exhibit, but the artist and the NEA were both insistent that it be prominently displayed.

  Paul had made it very clear to the gallery owner that there were plenty of other art dealers in New York who would be happy to display such an “edgy, important, and thought-provoking piece,” and the NEA grants that went with it.

  After that mid-morning controversy, Paul spent most of the afternoon trying to decompress, but even a long lunch and a stiff drink hadn’t done the trick. The thought of gallery owners trying to censor the NEA’s decisions was amazing to him and a consistent source of aggravation. Today the gallery owner had been browbeaten within a reasonably short period of time, so Paul’s aggravation meter hadn’t reached enraged, only significant annoyance.

  Now the traffic, caused by what Paul had to assume was the tourons, pushed the meter’s needle farther. That’s when his phone rang.

  Paul saw his wife’s number and answered expecting a quick check-in call to find out when he would be home; he was wrong. Sandy Dalton, as usual with her husband, dispensed with pleasantries and immediately got to the point.

  “Someone dented the minivan while I was at the gym this morning.”

  Before she could say another word, Paul cut in. “That’s great! That’s all I need to round out my fuckin’ day.”

  “If you’d let me finish,” Sandy said in a well-practiced exasperated tone, “the guy left a business card. Says his name is Kevin Nealon. And get this, he’s a doctor, but not just some run-of-the-mill GP, a cosmetic surgeon.”

  Paul’s mood lightened as Sandy giggled. “It gets better. He wrote on the card he’s sorry and asked if he could pay for the repairs in cash, without getting the insurance company involved. He wrote his cell number on the back of the card.”

  In that moment Paul’s whole day turned around. The old minivan had a few issues that needed to be taken care of, and a cash payment could be the means of addressing those problems…and possibly more. He felt the situation may have a happy ending after all.

  He mentally cringed as he waited for the answer to his next question. “Did you call him?”

  “No, I wanted to talk to you first.”

  Paul sighed in relief. “Give me the number. I’ll call Doctor Nealon and work something out.”

  Scribbling the number on the back of an envelope, he changed topics. “When is our next appointment? Do we have a webcast tonight or tomorrow?”

  “We don’t have anything scheduled ’til Friday except for a few chat sessions and some pictures. Then there’s that group of four from R
ichmond coming up. The guys are standard, middle-aged, and overweight. The women aren’t too bad. The older one is fat, but the younger one’s okay. I’ll show you their photos later tonight.”

  “We can focus mostly on the younger one then.” Paul paused. “Do we have something else? Something for Erin or Brandon? Something for school?”

  “Damn, I almost forgot, one of us has to take them to the mall to pick up outfits for their school play.” Sandy’s voice registered both relief and annoyance.

  There was a pause. Paul spied a space growing between two cars. He sped up, jumped into the opening, and cut off a minivan with Indiana plates. Welcome to DC traffic, Hoosier hayseed.

  He returned to the conversation. “Traffic’s horrible. I won’t be home for another hour and a half at this rate. Take the kids to get their shit. You’ll probably be home before I am. I’ll call this Dr. Nealon so I can set something up before he has more of a chance to think about it.”

  “I’ll be home in time to get ready for the pictures. The red outfit tonight, right?” Sandy asked.

  “Yeah, we haven’t done that in a while. Did you answer any email today?”

  “A few, not many.” She paused. “I’m just not as good at it as you are. It takes me forever.”

  Paul, who’d had this conversation with his wife at least once a month for the past year, blew up.

  “You’re home all fuckin’ day. How difficult is it to answer thirty emails? It’s not like they’re expecting War and fuckin’ Peace. ‘You make me hot,’ ‘I wanna meet you,’ ‘Send me photos,’ ‘For the really good stuff you need an account.’ What’s so fuckin’ HARD about that?”

  Sandy snapped back, “Listen, if you wanna switch places and see how many people will pay $9.95 a month to see you naked and gettin’ fucked, you let me know! Until then, stop giving me shit about answering emails from perverts!”

  The line went dead.

  Paul’s annoyance grew as he dialed the numbers Sandy had given him. I’m the one who set up the website. I’m the one who keeps up the server and the customer database. I run the whole damn business. All she has to do is go to the gym to stay in shape, get photographed, and screwed…not necessarily in that order. Fuck that.