Sea of Lies: An Espionage Thriller by Bradley West Page A

interested in joining, too.”
    “Of course. If they let me, I’ll postpone my retirement until this thing gets settled. They certainly aren’t going to find the plane in the Gulf of Thailand.”
    “Where do you think it could be? Still in Burma?”
    “Possibly upcountry, but based on the briefing, there may not be any landing strips. We know the plane couldn’t have flown undetected into India or China, as their radars are too formidable. If China hijacked the plane, it will be in Yunnan Province or northern Shan State. Teller’s involvement points to someone other than China being behind it. To me, the simplest explanation is that the plane took off and flew back out to sea, staying off radar.”
    “Out to sea? Where?”
    “Maybe the Maldives. Maybe Bangladesh or Oman. If it had the fuel, Diego Garcia would be a possibility and would immediately mean US sponsorship. DG is notionally British, but the Brits lease most of the island to the US, where we run a huge spy base. There are hundreds of US servicemen based there, operating listening antennae, satellite stations and lots of long-range aircraft. I have no doubt someone would talk eventually, and there would be hell to pay. So DG isn’t a very likely destination.”
    “Do you think the White House or Pentagon knows more about MH370 than they let on? If so, could they have run a hijacking without the CIA knowing? Surely the NSA would have to be in on it?”
    “Not necessarily. MH370’s abduction could be closer to an old-time act of piracy. Blackbeard loots the ship and doesn’t leave any witnesses. That would fit Teller’s style.”
    Hecker stepped back in with a rare smile in place. “Matthews gave us the satellite for the rest of today. His people are asking the NRO to re-task it now. If we get lucky, you’ll get a usable photo. You’ll be OK here for an hour or so? I need to check in on the home front.”
    “That’s fine. Millie is setting me up on Agency email, but that shouldn’t take too long.”
    “Understood. I want you to brief me further on Toffer/Teller. Let’s meet at the front gate at noon sharp and I’ll give you a ride back to Club Avatar.”
    Nolan slumped in the chair across from Millie while she logged herself out. “How in the hell did Hecker get Matthews to agree to anything? I thought they were going to go twelve rounds in there.”
    She smiled. “Hecker and Matthews each play to the crowd, are ambitious and know that if they want to win their personal war, they can’t afford to look like bad guys all the time. Besides, that’s an NRO bird. Lloyd’s not using many CIA chips when he makes a request.”
    Their meeting Saturday morning had been a rushed one, but the good vibrations of her background briefing session still reverberated. Maybe Millie saw some of Nolan’s former luster, maybe she had a father fixation, or maybe he was imagining things. In any event, he wanted to know more about her and offered up a variant on “What’s a nice girl like you . . . .”
    Millie was happy to oblige. “The most surprising thing when I arrived was that I was the only Agency US passport holder with more than a working knowledge of Burmese. I supervise a team of locals who do public domain local languages research and translation. Lloyd comes by my office three or four times a day to ask me about our findings.”
    Nolan suspected Matthews’s avuncular attentions weren’t entirely research-related, but said nothing.
    “I’ve been working seven days a week since arriving. Now that something exciting has happened with MH370, I’m dying to get on that task force and try to make a positive impression. Maybe that can be the fast track into covert ops.”
    Millie displayed such enthusiasm that his mind drifted back to Thailand in 1985. Nolan’s first posting after training was in the embassy as a cipher clerk and gofer. Heady times, though Nolan’s initiation to the CIA turned ugly just months later. While she sorted email, he