Sanderson's lair."
"Nice work on this, Hesterman. Almost like finding a needle in a haystack," Sharpe said, pausing for an uncomfortable period of time.
"Worried about taking this to Ward?" O'Reilly said.
As usual, Dana had read his mind. Keith Ward, Domestic Terrorism's director, had initially opposed Sharpe's request to continue pursuing General Sanderson's group, but a few well-placed calls from above had changed his tune on the surface. Ward had expressed enough of his feelings about Sharpe's "pet project" to leave him with no delusions that his direct supervisor felt that it was a waste of time. To be fair, Sharpe and his team had very little to show for their efforts over the past two years, until recently.
During DTB's last weekly department head meeting, he announced the information they had uncovered by ATF agents in Los Angeles, along with their renewed focus on Argentina. The looks from Ward and the other task force leaders painfully reminded him that nobody really cared about his "pet project" anymore. Fortunately, nobody dared to shut it down. A personal inquiry from Director Shelby had a long shelf-life, especially if you had your eyes on moving up in the organization. Since he had never been officially swatted down, Sharpe assumed that Keith Ward had bigger plans at the FBI.
"Actually, I'm worried about not taking it to Ward."
"Bypassing him?" O'Reilly said.
Hesterman backed up from the computer table, so they could all face each other to talk.
"How confident are you in this imagery?" Sharpe said.
"It's all pretty circumstantial, but it's certainly worth a closer look. I'd feel comfortable requesting that NRO give us some face shots," Hesterman said.
"Face shots?" O'Reilly said.
"Close ups from a satellite. It would require the temporary repositioning of a reconnaissance satellite into a stationary orbit above this area. It's not a simple request. So based on what we have here, you'd feel comfortable making the request?" Sharpe said.
"Yes, sir."
Sharpe took his cellphone out of his suit jacket and speed-dialed a number that he rarely used anymore. He stepped into the far corner of the Joint Operations Center and lowered his voice.
"Director Shelby's office. How may I direct your call?"
"Good morning, Margaret. This is Special Agent Ryan Sharpe from DTB. The director personally asked me to keep him apprised of an investigation."
"I remember, Agent Sharpe."
"I have new information pertaining to the case that he needs to see."
"I'll pass this along to him immediately and be back in touch with you to set up a meeting," she said.
"Thank you, Margaret. I appreciate your assistance," he said.
"I'll be in touch," she said, which meant ‘don't call back to check on this.’
Sharpe snapped his phone shut and turned to Hesterman.
"Stay close and make sure all of these images are portable and organized. The director's office could call us back in minutes. We don't leave the building until the director does," he said, starting for the door.
"Whoa! What are…wait a minute. I'm not going to see the director," Hesterman said.
Sharpe gave him a strained look and walked back over to him. "Let's keep it down. The walls have ears around here. Of course you're going. I can't make all of this magic happen or explain it nearly as well, though you will have to economize your words and cut out any attempts at humor."
"What? No…sir? I think O'Reilly is the best agent for the job. She's earned it," Hesterman whispered.
"Earned what? I don't want to sing and dance in front of the director. This is all you. The guy sort of gives me the creeps, anyway. Likes to touch my shot-up arm and grimace like he feels my pain. It's a little creepy," she said.
"It's all you, Hesterman. Put on your game face," Sharpe said.
"You'll do great, Eric. Seriously, you know the ins and outs of this imagery, and I liked the way you presented it to me. I can't possibly drag O'Reilly in there again. Admittedly, it's a little creepy
"Nice work on this, Hesterman. Almost like finding a needle in a haystack," Sharpe said, pausing for an uncomfortable period of time.
"Worried about taking this to Ward?" O'Reilly said.
As usual, Dana had read his mind. Keith Ward, Domestic Terrorism's director, had initially opposed Sharpe's request to continue pursuing General Sanderson's group, but a few well-placed calls from above had changed his tune on the surface. Ward had expressed enough of his feelings about Sharpe's "pet project" to leave him with no delusions that his direct supervisor felt that it was a waste of time. To be fair, Sharpe and his team had very little to show for their efforts over the past two years, until recently.
During DTB's last weekly department head meeting, he announced the information they had uncovered by ATF agents in Los Angeles, along with their renewed focus on Argentina. The looks from Ward and the other task force leaders painfully reminded him that nobody really cared about his "pet project" anymore. Fortunately, nobody dared to shut it down. A personal inquiry from Director Shelby had a long shelf-life, especially if you had your eyes on moving up in the organization. Since he had never been officially swatted down, Sharpe assumed that Keith Ward had bigger plans at the FBI.
"Actually, I'm worried about not taking it to Ward."
"Bypassing him?" O'Reilly said.
Hesterman backed up from the computer table, so they could all face each other to talk.
"How confident are you in this imagery?" Sharpe said.
"It's all pretty circumstantial, but it's certainly worth a closer look. I'd feel comfortable requesting that NRO give us some face shots," Hesterman said.
"Face shots?" O'Reilly said.
"Close ups from a satellite. It would require the temporary repositioning of a reconnaissance satellite into a stationary orbit above this area. It's not a simple request. So based on what we have here, you'd feel comfortable making the request?" Sharpe said.
"Yes, sir."
Sharpe took his cellphone out of his suit jacket and speed-dialed a number that he rarely used anymore. He stepped into the far corner of the Joint Operations Center and lowered his voice.
"Director Shelby's office. How may I direct your call?"
"Good morning, Margaret. This is Special Agent Ryan Sharpe from DTB. The director personally asked me to keep him apprised of an investigation."
"I remember, Agent Sharpe."
"I have new information pertaining to the case that he needs to see."
"I'll pass this along to him immediately and be back in touch with you to set up a meeting," she said.
"Thank you, Margaret. I appreciate your assistance," he said.
"I'll be in touch," she said, which meant ‘don't call back to check on this.’
Sharpe snapped his phone shut and turned to Hesterman.
"Stay close and make sure all of these images are portable and organized. The director's office could call us back in minutes. We don't leave the building until the director does," he said, starting for the door.
"Whoa! What are…wait a minute. I'm not going to see the director," Hesterman said.
Sharpe gave him a strained look and walked back over to him. "Let's keep it down. The walls have ears around here. Of course you're going. I can't make all of this magic happen or explain it nearly as well, though you will have to economize your words and cut out any attempts at humor."
"What? No…sir? I think O'Reilly is the best agent for the job. She's earned it," Hesterman whispered.
"Earned what? I don't want to sing and dance in front of the director. This is all you. The guy sort of gives me the creeps, anyway. Likes to touch my shot-up arm and grimace like he feels my pain. It's a little creepy," she said.
"It's all you, Hesterman. Put on your game face," Sharpe said.
"You'll do great, Eric. Seriously, you know the ins and outs of this imagery, and I liked the way you presented it to me. I can't possibly drag O'Reilly in there again. Admittedly, it's a little creepy
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