police chief, the two guards and then Mandy.
“My name is Mandy
Franklin and I was hired to have sex with Mr. Kennedy, the man who was
occupying this room. He gave me a letter to deliver to a newspaper reporter.”
“WHAT?” Matthews
yelled incredulously. Apparently his state of the art surveillance system
wasn’t omniscient.
When it was my
turn, I said, “My name is Thomas Kennedy; I’m a retired lawyer from Canada.
Special Agent Matthews had me kidnapped from Washington Dulles Airport on
Tuesday afternoon and has been holding me in this hotel room against my will
ever since.”
When Douglas
Grant, Phillip Peden and Billy Miller stated their identities, Matthews went
ballistic.
“Agent Bronson,
seize that camera and laptop immediately.”
“On what legal
basis can you authorize this?” Peden demanded.
“You have no right
to that information,” Matthews responded belligerently. “It’s a matter of
national security.”
“I SMELL HORSESHIT,”
I blurted out.
Matthews ignored
me.
“Have you shared
the information on this computer or in this camera with anyone?” he demanded of
the media team.
Peden cleverly
avoided answering the question directly by asking his own question, the sign of
a veteran newsman.
“The final news
story isn’t ready yet, but will you confirm or deny Mr. Kennedy’s allegation
that you kidnapped him and Bander Haddad when their flight from Syracuse landed
at Dulles yesterday?”
“This whole matter
is one of national security,” Matthews answered.
“Where is Mr.
Haddad now?” Peden persisted.
Matthews completely
ignored the editor.
Douglas Grant
chimed in.
“Did you secure
and pay for the services of a prostitute for Mr. Kennedy with government
funds?”
That question
appeared to unnerve Matthews.
While the special
agent was flustered, Grant hit him with another embarrassing question.
“Is your agency
monitoring private conversations of both Americans and foreigners now even when
those conversations are taking place in person and not by telephone or e-mail?
Mr. Kennedy alleges that you possess tapes of his private conversations with
another attorney which took place in Canada in the lawyer’s home living-room.”
“What part of
‘NATIONAL SECURITY’ don’t you comprehend?” Matthews almost screamed. “That’s
it; I’m seizing everyone’s cellphones, computers, cameras and hand-held
devices. They will be returned to you once we have determined that no sensitive
information is contained on them. Any such data found will be deleted before
the items are given back to you.”
That directive
prompted a heated argument between the police chief and Matthews. Eventually
Matthews relented and permitted the three police officers to retain their equipment.
“Mr. Haddad’s life
may be in danger,” I shouted. “The American government has purposely
disseminated false statements to the media purportedly made by Mr. Haddad and
myself, which statements show both of us to be terrorists. Special Agent Matthews
can’t be trusted. It’s up to the police to ensure that Mr. Haddad is safe. I
want to lay a charge against Matthews for kidnapping.”
The turf war was
on. Both Matthews and the police chief got on their cellphones to obtain
further instructions.
We all waited in
the room for almost an hour before the verdict was received.
The Washington
Police Commissioner himself had spoken with the Deputy Director of Homeland
Security and they had hashed out a compromise.
No charges were to
be laid against anyone at this time, but I was to be taken in the presence of
the police chief and one of his officers to see Bander Haddad in order to confirm
that he was my seat-mate on the flight and to ensure that he was safe.
Any further action
by the Washington police would depend on the results of that meeting.
Apparently Mr. Haddad was currently being held in the city of Washington even
though the actual abduction had taken place in Virginia. The issue of
“My name is Mandy
Franklin and I was hired to have sex with Mr. Kennedy, the man who was
occupying this room. He gave me a letter to deliver to a newspaper reporter.”
“WHAT?” Matthews
yelled incredulously. Apparently his state of the art surveillance system
wasn’t omniscient.
When it was my
turn, I said, “My name is Thomas Kennedy; I’m a retired lawyer from Canada.
Special Agent Matthews had me kidnapped from Washington Dulles Airport on
Tuesday afternoon and has been holding me in this hotel room against my will
ever since.”
When Douglas
Grant, Phillip Peden and Billy Miller stated their identities, Matthews went
ballistic.
“Agent Bronson,
seize that camera and laptop immediately.”
“On what legal
basis can you authorize this?” Peden demanded.
“You have no right
to that information,” Matthews responded belligerently. “It’s a matter of
national security.”
“I SMELL HORSESHIT,”
I blurted out.
Matthews ignored
me.
“Have you shared
the information on this computer or in this camera with anyone?” he demanded of
the media team.
Peden cleverly
avoided answering the question directly by asking his own question, the sign of
a veteran newsman.
“The final news
story isn’t ready yet, but will you confirm or deny Mr. Kennedy’s allegation
that you kidnapped him and Bander Haddad when their flight from Syracuse landed
at Dulles yesterday?”
“This whole matter
is one of national security,” Matthews answered.
“Where is Mr.
Haddad now?” Peden persisted.
Matthews completely
ignored the editor.
Douglas Grant
chimed in.
“Did you secure
and pay for the services of a prostitute for Mr. Kennedy with government
funds?”
That question
appeared to unnerve Matthews.
While the special
agent was flustered, Grant hit him with another embarrassing question.
“Is your agency
monitoring private conversations of both Americans and foreigners now even when
those conversations are taking place in person and not by telephone or e-mail?
Mr. Kennedy alleges that you possess tapes of his private conversations with
another attorney which took place in Canada in the lawyer’s home living-room.”
“What part of
‘NATIONAL SECURITY’ don’t you comprehend?” Matthews almost screamed. “That’s
it; I’m seizing everyone’s cellphones, computers, cameras and hand-held
devices. They will be returned to you once we have determined that no sensitive
information is contained on them. Any such data found will be deleted before
the items are given back to you.”
That directive
prompted a heated argument between the police chief and Matthews. Eventually
Matthews relented and permitted the three police officers to retain their equipment.
“Mr. Haddad’s life
may be in danger,” I shouted. “The American government has purposely
disseminated false statements to the media purportedly made by Mr. Haddad and
myself, which statements show both of us to be terrorists. Special Agent Matthews
can’t be trusted. It’s up to the police to ensure that Mr. Haddad is safe. I
want to lay a charge against Matthews for kidnapping.”
The turf war was
on. Both Matthews and the police chief got on their cellphones to obtain
further instructions.
We all waited in
the room for almost an hour before the verdict was received.
The Washington
Police Commissioner himself had spoken with the Deputy Director of Homeland
Security and they had hashed out a compromise.
No charges were to
be laid against anyone at this time, but I was to be taken in the presence of
the police chief and one of his officers to see Bander Haddad in order to confirm
that he was my seat-mate on the flight and to ensure that he was safe.
Any further action
by the Washington police would depend on the results of that meeting.
Apparently Mr. Haddad was currently being held in the city of Washington even
though the actual abduction had taken place in Virginia. The issue of
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