Chapter 64: Intelligence Reaction

Everyone in the room jumped to their feet as Gerston said, “Relax, everyone. A little mouse ... well not so little and definitely not a mouse—more like a lioness protecting her cub ... told me a little story about how MY government was screwing with her baby. Sorry I got here a bit late, but looking at the faces of some of my officials here, I see my late entrance won’t matter much. You know about the problem.”

Tamara glanced at her mom; Nadine was wearing a smug expression.

“Now where were you before I rudely interrupted? Oh, before getting to that, I know the details of what was said at that coffee shop. I also know about a certain airport incident. I understand, too, that the NSA is involved in this in a big, nasty way. I will not have a repeat of an Edward Snowden-type situation while I’m in office. Spying on civilians and attempting to frame them—I will not tolerate that ... okay, go on, folks.”

Wilkins pulled her laptop closer. “I was just about to play the recordings that those NSA agents left with Miss Alexandre, sir.”

“Oh, good. Go ahead.”

Wilkins nodded and spoke again. “You’ll recall from the wire recording that those perps told Tamara at the coffee shop that they recorded her supposed international calls. The digital files on the SD card are recordings of calls made from a phone claimed to be Tamara’s and there’s a text file of the purported carrier phone record on the card which shows international calls using that number, plus their dates and times. I’ll pass around a paper copy of the text files on the card. Now I’ll play the recordings in order; there are four of them.”

She played them and everyone in the room sat stony faced.

Carlson raised her hand and Wilkins nodded to her, “Go ahead, Director.”

“Not to accuse or anything, but apart from that coffee-shop recording, those call recordings sound very convincing,” Carlson said, carefully.

“Certainly. They were meant to be convincing, but Miss Alexandre has other resources at hand in addition to the FBI. Her boyfriend, I understand, is also something of a genius and gave us the answer to see if the recordings are real or fake. Mr Simpson is an FBI forensic expert and when I was told how to check their validity, I got him to explain it to me. It’s way technical, but he assured me that he’d use pictures to demonstrate what he found. Mr Simpson?”

“Thanks, Agent Wilkins. Jeez, Mr President, I didn’t expect...”

Gerston chuckled, “Carry on as if I’m not here. You need to convince them. I already know the truth.”

“Okay then. Let me pass out this description of EMF matching, a forensic technique which is useful to learn when a recording was made or if it was tampered with. It’s a bit technical but in a sentence or two, it says that the hum that’s present on all power lines can be used just like a fingerprint to uniquely identify a recording. That hum can tell us the date and time of when an audio recording was made and gaps or discontinuities in the hum show that it was doctored somehow. With me so far?”

There were no questions but everyone was listening closely.

“So, if I show you exactly what’s happening while the clip is playing, that will explain it best, so if someone gets the lights, I’ll play the demo. The clip will play and what you’ll see on the screen is a tracing of the background hum’s frequency as it varies around the 60 hertz standard. As that handout explains, the hum is everywhere and when you record audio, the hum gets recorded too. The clip begins with a 1.5-second silent period before the ring and then the voice starts.”

He played the clip and as it played, the image on the projection screen showed a wiggly line, jumping randomly, but hovering around a base line that Simpson told them represented the 60 hertz frequency. When the clip finished, mostly everyone sat back in their seats and sighed.

“Okay, I see that many ... most of you ... see the implications; good. You understand the process. At the beginning of the clip, you saw the continuous, unbroken tracing of the hum before the ring, which continued into the quote foreign agent’s unquote answering the call. Point one: it’s a 60 hertz hum; only 60 hertz. The European grid runs at a 50 hertz frequency, so we should have been able to detect a signal at 50 hertz, even if that section was re-recorded. There was none, which means the recording was made totally in the U.S. Where? Using EMF matching and the national power grid database, I matched that chunk of the recording to the power grid serving the eastern part of the U.S. and the time that it was recorded was on October 29 between 2:19:32.31 to 2:20:02.15 pm. We actually can get the time down to a millisecond. That’s not the date and time shown in the text file from the SD card; you have that printout. Still with me?

There were nods. No one wanted to speak.

“Good. Then Tamara’s supposed voice came on. What about the hum? It was gone, right? That section of audio was not an audio recording; it was a chunk of computer-generated speech saved directly to the storage media. You saw the hum appear when the ‘foreigner’ spoke and stop when her voice came on—the recording is therefore a patchwork of assembled sound clips. Also, people’s voices can be accurately mimicked by AI now; the technique is known as ‘deepfake’ ... ah, I see you all nodding, you’re familiar with the term. Tamara’s supposed voice was computer-created and added to make this ... well, forgery, I’ll call it. Do you need to see more examples? I have three more. Or have any questions?”

There were head shakes and “No”s from all around the table.

“Excellent presentation, thank you,” Gerston complimented. He looked at Wilkins. “What is your office doing now, Special Agent Wilkins?”

“I agree that we can’t let this become like another Snowden situation, sir. Or the NSA’s earlier ‘SexInt’ sex blackmail scheme. But crimes have been committed here, and not only violations of FISA. Plus that airport incident. We’re seeking warrants for the NSA agents we’ve identified so far, but a few rogue agents aren’t enough to gather the kind of information they had for Miss Alexandre. Her own sources told her that she was being shadowed for weeks before this broke.”

Gerston looked at Visson, who had been whispering hurriedly to his aide. “General, you haven’t said anything yet; what’s going on at your agency? How could you let your people run amok like that?”

“Sir, do you want my resignation?” Visson asked.

“We’ll see if it comes to that, but first, can you tell us anything that bears on this unfortunate situation?”

“Ah, we have uncleared persons present, sir.”

“You’re referring to the Alexandres, I presume. Major Alexandre is an ambassador with the highest level clearances. Miss Alexandre has DoD top-secret clearance through her DARPA work and I will vouch for Dr Alexandre; she was vetted for top-secret clearance by the Diplomatic Security Service of the State Department when I appointed her as a special envoy. I will also vouch for their additional intelligence clearances,” Gerston responded.

“Very good, sir. The two agents that Agent Wilkins named earlier as being involved at that coffee shop are in our Signals Intelligence Directorate in special operations and report to one of our assistant directors. I only recall this because I read an action report this morning from that section; I have a meeting with that assistant director tomorrow morning. It would have been this afternoon except for this meeting.”

“What prompted you to want a meeting? Is that normal procedure?” Gerston asked.

“No, sir; but the action report raised some questions in my mind. I see now that my questions about what I read in that report are justified, but what I heard here tells me that some people really fu ... ah ... screwed up badly.”

Tamara raised her hand and Gerston nodded to her.

“Mr President, Agent Wilkins and I have been trying to figure out why those NSA jerks have been hounding me. Why did they try to set an elaborate trap at the airport? The counterfeit money in that luggage strongly suggests a blackmail attempt right there. And then this blackmail or extortion attempt with those fake recordings happened. I assume they were trying to track me down from info I got from Hopkins officials and campus police, and also from the APL office where someone was asking about me. I wouldn’t put it past them that they were trying to trace my phone too and I think that my using a number of burner phones got them frustrated. Then they started to cut corners, got sloppy, and got trapped. Agent Wilkins and her team did a fantastic job, sir.

“Why was it me they were trying to trap? General Visson just gave me the answer. He said that those jerks are in a section called the Signals Intelligence Directorate. From a contact email that I received from them which used a fictitious company’s email address, I could tell that someone in that group was familiar with my MRI work, and a close reading of the papers I published about my findings suggest that the human brain is capable of producing electrical signals which, under certain circumstances, can be detected by other nearby persons. I’m assuming that whoever read those papers became convinced that I had discovered a potential method to read people’s minds. That’s a form of signals intelligence, I suppose. Maybe that person thought that grabbing someone who knew something about that kind of research fell into his sphere of responsibility—but that’s a real stretch.

“And why blackmail me? That’s a simpler question to address. It would be clear to anyone with half a brain that someone who’s in a physics doctoral program and doing research into quantum engineering would refuse outright to agree to simply give up that education and switch into an area where they have a limited background. That’s exactly what I did, I refused outright. So to try to compel me, they threatened to tie me up with criminal terrorism charges. I suppose that after I was arrested, I would be offered a second chance to work for them—or face a prison term. Oh, another thought occurs to me ... am I the only person that this happened to?”

Gerston had been scowling while Tamara was speaking and he broke in, “Yes, that makes total sense, Tamara. You all probably know that all kinds of people and organizations have been complaining about ‘mission creep’ at the NSA for years, especially after the Patriot Act and then the Freedom Act were passed by Congress. People have maintained that those laws are at odds with the Constitution in many areas. General Visson...”

“Yes, sir!”

“ ... I want you to have your inspector general review every section of the agency and all its contractors to find out if anyone was recruited under duress. Start with the signals directorate; that seems to be where the bad apples are at—in this one case, anyway. And let me know immediately about your meeting with that assistant director. If he’s involved in any way, even just by ignoring what his agents were doing, I want him suspended and interviewed by the FBI, preferably by Agent Wilkins here.”

“Thanks, Mr President,” Wilkins acknowledged. “I also believe that we need to avoid a scandal over NSA over-reach. Tamara and I discussed this extensively, and as she is the victim of the operation, I believe that we should listen to her wishes in this matter. Is that okay, Tamara?”

“Sure. Mr Gerston ... and Mr Gray, too ... Mr Gray, I know that this isn’t your call not to prosecute; that’s up to the U.S. attorney or even the attorney general, but your recommendation carries a lot of weight. I’d prefer that these goons get a real scare thrown into them. When I was talking to them, I sensed a really strong dedication and absolutely no evil intent at all—my family has a strong sensitivity to that...”

She was interrupted by both Gerston and O’Rourke, who commented, “Absolutely they do”... “For sure; I’ve seen that.”

“I’m certain that they are excellent at what they do; this mess wasn’t their idea but they tried to complete their mission. The NSA needs people with talent. Perhaps better management and guidance...”

Visson almost choked at that.

“ ... so I’d like that no criminal prosecution on these charges be undertaken for them. Possibly a secret arraignment to scare them; force them to get an attorney and make them think a bit about the consequences of blindly following improper instructions. Common sense should have told them that many of the things they did were illegal. Certainly a letter of censure or reprimand should be given to them.”

Janine Carlson, the director of national intelligence, replied to her, “That’s an admirable thought, Miss Alexandre. Most people in your position would be vindictive and demand the maximum penalties possible. Your acknowledgment of the agents’ expertise and value to the NSA shows you really thought about the matter. I appreciate that and believe that the general does too.”

“I do indeed,” Visson responded. “I was just asking my deputy here if he thought that our technical services directorate had a hand in those doctored recordings. He thought that they might be involved too and that’s a serious concern.”

Simpson raised his hand then and Gross pointed to him.

“General,” Simpson said, “perhaps I could make you feel a bit better about your tech people. I’m sure that they could do a much better job at making a forgery than this cobbled-up job, making it much more difficult to detect. There are many voice-cloning apps on the ‘net, Respeecher and FakeYou immediately come to mind, and those can be used by people with little technical skill. You saw how good the results were; it took some high-powered tools to show that they are fakes. What should be more concerning to you is how those NSA agents got enough samples of Tamara’s voice to train an app. It seems like the communications dragnet that the NSA was supposed to have stopped using must still be operating—perhaps clandestinely, even hidden from management. And there’s the matter of her surveillance too. I’d suggest that you look into that branch if it’s a different one than the one those agents are in.”

Director Mark Gray was recognized. “I was thinking about Miss Alexandre’s request not to prosecute and I concur. Agent Wilkins, this is your thought too?”

“Yes sir, it is.”

“I believe everyone here also has the same opinion but for Mr Gerston. Sir, do you have a thought on the issue?” Gray continued.

“I’d like to see them squirm for what they did to an innocent party, but no, I won’t order an action, one way or another. That decision is up to you experts. My political sense tells me to avoid any exposure of this—these incidents. I applaud Tamara’s magnanimous suggestion; she’s showed me many times that she’s a true team player and wants the best outcome for the group.”

“Very good, sir,” Gray said. “We will proceed as Miss Alexandre has suggested. Secretary O’Rourke, as you hosted this meeting, is there anything more?”

“No, sir. And I trust that those of us in the intelligence community will get our houses in order.”

“Well said,” Gerston replied. “I appreciated being told about what was happening, folks, and please remember that I’m very sensitive to politically controversial incidents, as is every president. I’d prefer hearing about these issues from my officials and not from a bystander, now is that completely clear?”

There were a number of “yes sir”s from the room’s occupants and the group began to break up. Gerston went over to where the Alexandres were sitting and greeted them.

“Nadine, thanks for telling me about this problem,” he said as Wilson chuckled.

“I thought I had brought in the big guns for this meeting, honey, but you sure aced me there,” he told his wife.

“I have to get back to my real job now,” Gerston said. “There was no doubt in my mind about your part in this incident, Tamara, but I appreciate your thoughtfulness and forbearance. At least this wasn’t an agency-wide problem. Dr Carlson is a Cabinet official, so I know she’ll have her staff keeping track of the fallout for me. Take care, and I’ll be in touch.”

“Right, sir. And remember, let me know when you begin working on getting economic benefits to the world’s common citizens, ‘cause I’m about to unleash another major invention.”

“Oh, hell, you had to remind me of our agreement, Tamara. Yes. That’s in the works. Your mom will be part of that, you know. See you soon.”