Chapter 50

  David Choi was born and raised in LA. He worked for the LA Police Department, where he was assigned to work in the tight-knit community of Thai Town, the largest Thai population outside of Thailand. Tim Choi’s PI business didn’t range far from Phuket. Still, on occasions, he took business from a concerned spouse or family member looking for a lost or wayward relative in the U.S. David was a young, ambitious man who was always looking to make some fast money, and his arrangement with his grandfather proved lucrative. It was just after midnight when David arrived home after his mid-day watch was over. He knew he had received an e-mail from his grandfather with an attached Word file, but he couldn’t open the encrypted file on his Blackberry. He grabbed a Diet Pepsi from the fridge and powered up his laptop. He opened his Hotmail account and sorted through his e-mail until he found the one from his grandfather. He opened it and was soon reading the attached Word file. He read the entire message, leaned back, placed his elbow on the arm of his sofa, and lowered his head until it was cradled in his hand. He ran his fingers over his jaw and contemplated the warning. He knew that his grandfather wouldn’t warn him without due cause. After a minute, he leaned forward and reread the e-mail. It soon became apparent that his grandfather hadn’t given him the whole story, yet it was enough for him to make a decision. He placed his hands over his keyboard and typed his reply. He decided that he would take the job despite the attached caveat.

  *****

  Finding the Colonel shouldn’t be a problem; the job would bring him some fast cash, which he desperately needed. With his military connections and the internet, he would have this wrapped up quickly. It would be a lot easier if they had names that weren’t so common, but that made it all the more challenging. Not wanting to waste any time, he opened his contact information and found the name he was looking for. The man answered on the third ring, and their conversation lasted only a few minutes. The man had a lot of government contacts, and David hoped he would come through for him. After telling him the names of the two people he was looking for, he started his own search. David decided to start with Colonel Bennett simply because he was a southern California boy and close to home.

  Because of his age, David doubted that Bennett would be on Facebook or Twitter. He searched anyway. He found a long list of men that matched his name, although none matched the age or profile. Next, he checked one of his favorite people search sites and got several Colonel Paul Bennett’s. None were of the correct age. Then he found a site he had never used before. The site promoted help finding lost military friends through a network serving all branches of the U.S. Military. After signing up and logging in, he came up with a retired General, Paul Bennett, who lived in Oceanside, CA, just south of the Marine Base at Camp Pendleton. The man was of the right age, and from his bio, he had served in Vietnam, although the years weren’t given. Given the fact that he was a Colonel in 1975, he had more than likely moved up in rank. No address or phone number was given other than the city and state. Only an e-mail address was provided as a contact point. David guessed all the contact correspondence ran through that website to screen out all the junk mail and whack jobs. He typed in a quick message.

  General Bennett

  I don’t know if you are the correct Paul Bennett I’m looking for? Question: were you a Colonel stationed at Xuan Loc in the spring of 75?

  A friend

  Next, he searched for Sergeant Jesse Taylor on the military friend’s website and found several, but none that matched his age or branch of the military in any rank.

  After he was finished, he put his computer and himself to bed, hoping to get a response from General Bennett soon. One thing he wasn’t counting on, and despite his new encryption e-mail software, the Government Agency that monitors the internet, e-mail, and all phone conversations coming into the country flagged his e-mail from Phuket and was dissecting the new software with intensity.

  *****

  When Bennett first read the e-mail, he thought that his emergency drop box had been compromised and that someone, or some group, was fishing for him. In his line of work, he had made a lot of enemies, and most, if not all, could be very dangerous. Bennett then made several phone calls. The first was to find out the information on the sender, and the second was to verify the information he had entered. Bennett learned that the person had just set up the account, and that person had only left a message for only one person, himself. The man had entered his name as David Choi from Los Angeles and said he had served in the army in Iraq. Bennett then made another call and had his IP address traced to its source. He found that it had indeed originated in Los Angeles. The third call was to find out everything he could about David Choi. One hour later, he got the information that he had requested. The man had indeed served in Iraq and was now a Los Angeles policeman who also held a PI license. He now knew that his inquiry was legitimate, although he still didn’t know why he was looking for him. He decided to do a little fishing of his own.

  *****

  The following morning, David checked his e-mail and wasn’t surprised to see that he didn’t have a reply from Bennett. Sometimes, you get lucky, but not that often. David started to search in other directions, starting with all the people search engines offering to find people for a fee. David’s main problem was the common names of both of his targets. After spending a lot of money, David compiled a list of ten men in California that might be the correct Paul Bennett and sixteen Jesse Taylors in the eastern US in the right age group.

  David spent the remaining morning making phone calls and running down leads. By noon, he was no closer to either man than when he started. Frustrated, David finally decided to eat something before his midday shift started. After lunch, he rechecked his e-mail. He was surprised that he had a reply from the website reuniting old service friends. The message was from General Bennett. It was short and to the point.

  “Who are you, and why do you want to know?”

  David sat back and stared at the computer screen. Bingo; he knew he was onto something. David had to tread softly; he didn't want to lose the man. If it was the correct Paul Bennett, the man would be looking for an answer very soon. He placed his hands on the keyboard and typed.

  "General, I'm a police officer in LA, and I work with a private detective in Asia who has a client who apparently served with you in Vietnam. This person is looking for you because of recent events in the United States."

  David purposely left out any mention of the late CIA agent. David wasn’t sure, but he thought it might spook the man for some strange reason.

  Bennett read the response and was somewhat relieved when Choi informed him that he was indeed an LA cop. At least the man was telling the truth. What puzzled him, though, was that he was working with a PI in Asia. And that the man searching for him had served with him in Vietnam. The list of people who served with him in Vietnam was long, and he needed to narrow it down. At first, Bennett thought it might be a Tiger member because the inquiry came from Asia. But he knew that all the Tiger members had either been killed in the battle of Xuan Loc or Saigon; at least, that was what he had heard. Maybe one of them had survived the war and was now looking for him. Then there was the part about "Because of recent events in the United States." He wondered if it had anything to do with the Mystic bombing.

  Bennett decided that he needed a little fresh air to clear his mind. He walked out the door of his townhouse, crossed the manicured, palm-lined street, and then onto a walking path that followed the outside of an exclusive golf course. Ten minutes later, he returned to his townhouse to send David a reply.

  Back at his desk, he sat down and typed.

  Who is looking for me? Was the man a Tiger? What are the recent events that are you referring to? And lastly, what is your name? I want to know who I’m conversing with.

  David was about to head out the door when his BlackBerry informed him he had a new e-mail. Instead of opening it on the small device, he turned and headed for his laptop on his coffee table. When he got his e-mail account open, David smiled when he saw that he had a reply from General Bennett. He opened it up and read the short reply. One thing was certain: Bennett was a man of few words. This guy was more cautious than a gazelle at a crocodile-infested watering hole. David had no idea what Bennett meant by a Tiger, so he let the man wait for his reply. He walked out of his apartment and locked the door behind him. He had to give some thought as to how he was going to answer his questions. After his shift was over, he returned home and typed his reply.

  General Bennett,

  I wish to remain anonymous for one simple reason: I don’t know anything about a Tiger, and I don’t know the identity of the man who hired my friend. I’m just a middleman collecting a finder’s fee. But I can tell you that I have worked with my friend in Asia for a long time and that he is a highly respected and reputable man. If you are NOT the correct Bennett, just say so, and that will end our correspondence.

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  Best Regards

  David knew he had the right man. He only hoped that he wasn’t closing a door. He didn’t understand why he was being so elusive. But when David thought about it, so was he. What he wasn’t expecting was Bennett’s fast reply.

  We need to talk; what’s your phone number, David?

  David looked at the message on the computer screen and started to laugh. Bennett must have known all along who he was. When he thought about it, it made perfect sense. A man like Bennett probably had a lot of resources, also. Ok, he must be the right guy and wants to talk. David entered his cell number on the return e-mail and hit send. Fifteen minutes later, his cell phone rang, and the number came up blacked. He answered it anyway.

  "Hello, this is David."

  The caller didn't answer right away. At first, he thought it was one of those telemarketers waiting for someone to pick up, although he knew that wasn't the case. He knew it was Bennett because the caller ID came in "private."

  "David, this is General Bennett. It's been nice chatting with you by e-mail, but I would like some information before we continue. Starting with who hired you and who hired your friend in Asia. And we might as well throw in what country in Asia as well."

  "General, I can see you're a man who likes to get to the point. I assume you are the correct Paul

  Bennett?"

  No response!

  "Well, General, is it alright if I call you General?"

  "That's fine, please continue."

  "Well, General, like I said, I'm just a cop doing a side job, and I am a licensed private investigator in the State of California. The man who hired me is my grandfather, and he is also a private investigator. He lives in Phuket, Thailand. As I said, I don't know the man who hired him, but I do know that they have been friends for a very long time, and my grandfather respects him very much. Other than that, I don't know much more. I was hired to find several people. That's all."

  "Are you also from Thailand?"

  "No, I was born and raised in LA."

  "I see, and may I ask who the other persons you were asked to find?"

  There was a long pause. Then David cleared his throat.

  "We can discuss that once I've established that you're the Paul Bennett I am looking for."

  Bennett was growing impatient with the man.

  "Humor me, please."

  David didn't want to give out any information before establishing who this Bennett was. There was a long silence on the line, so he relented.

  "This may seem strange, General, but the reason this man is looking for you is he believes that you may know the name of a CIA agent who was killed in March of 75 at Xuan Loc. Actually, I was hired to find his parents, but first, I need to find out his name." For a moment, he thought about telling him about Jesse Taylor, but at the last second, he decided against it. "Apparently, the man that hired my grandfather thinks that you would know who he was and, possibly, where he was from."

  This new information set Bennett back. He had no idea where this was going. But more importantly, one question ran through his mind. Who could possibly want to know this information, and for what reason?

  "General, are you still there?" David asked.

  "Do you know why he wants to find this man's parents? And what connection does it have to do with recent events in the United States?"

  As soon as the question was out of his mouth, a strange sensation came over Bennett, and he almost didn't hear David's answer.

  David knew the answer to one of these questions but didn't want to tell Bennett just yet.

  "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't have the answers to either question."

  "Okay, so you're positive that you don't have the name of the person that is looking for this information?

  "No sir, I do not. I only know what my grandfather told me about him, and that wasn't much other than they had been friends for a long time," David lied.

  Although his grandfather did not mention his name in the e-mail, David knew who he was. He only had one friend who fought in Vietnam, and he had been to his club and home with his grandfather on several occasions.

  Bennett's mind was racing, and the strange sensation was now replaced with something a little more intriguing. He decided that he needed more time to digest this new information.

  "I think we are done for now, but I want you to do me a favor. I want you to find out who your grandfather's client is. E-mail me when you have something new, and we'll talk again. Goodbye, David."

  "Wait, I have one more question for you."

  "And that is?"

  "Do you know the name of the CIA analyst that was killed at Xuan Loc in March of 75?"

  Bennett inwardly laughed at the question that intentionally tried to force his hand. This time there was no good-bye. The line simply went dead!

  *****

  Gene Emerson had worked at the ultra-modern and very non-descript government facility located at Fort Mead, Maryland, for three years and was a very dedicated young man who believed in his country's security. The agent looked at the flagged e-mail that had been routed to him and began his work. He was one of many encryption specialists tasked to decipher new encryption software the supercomputer didn't recognize or could not crack in a very short time. The supercomputer tracked the IP source and destination and listed both in the file. The sender's IP address was scrambled to hide its location but was easily tracked to its source. Gene knew a lot of tricks to get around the Trojan horses and red hearings, but after an hour, he was no closer to opening the encrypted e-mail than when he started. Then, after another hour, and with the supercomputer's help, he could crack the encryption software.

  Gene read the e-mail and was very bored at first. Then he came to one sentence, and his interest perked up. The more he read, the more interested he became. He reread the e-mail with a better understanding of its context this time. Although his job was to break the encrypting, not to analyze it, he felt the content was strange. Yet he knew one thing for sure. It was going to get someone’s attention. Gene gave the file a case number as he did with every encrypted file he broke, placed it in a closer scrutiny file with a median-high priority status, and moved on to his next task.

  *****

  Gene’s manager, Jim Beckmann, divorced and bitter, sat behind a standard-issue government metal desk in a small windowless room with his cheap gray suit jacket draped over the back of his uncomfortable chair. The man had short-cropped hair with a touch of gray at the temples. He was of medium height and very slender, with an extremely high intellect, exceptional analytical skills, and a photographic memory. He also had no people skills. He was the typical government manager. He wore a long-sleeved white shirt that was pressed and neat, although not of any quality and a plain black tie that was too narrow for the latest style. An inexpensive watch with a plastic band was the only item of jewelry the man wore. There was one bookcase behind his desk filled with government books and documents. Not a single personal photo of a wife, dog, or family member was in sight.

  *****

  It was at the end of his day when Beckmann opened Tim Choi’s e-mail to his grandson. Using his National Security clearance, he found only two agents that were killed at Xuan Loc in 75. Beckmann quickly discarded the Sanders file and moved on to Peter Jensen’s. He read the file record twice. What intrigued him was Sydney Perotti’s relationship with Jensen. He had worked directly under her. Beckmann read the investigators’ report on his death over and over again and concluded that it didn’t smell right. The evidence didn’t add up. It looked like a cover-up to him. What also intrigued him was the mention of an encrypted letter in the e-mail but nothing in the reports. Finishing up, he then made a mental note of every word along with the IP addresses and locations of the receiver and sender. Then, he closed the file and marked it completed, needing no further action. At least it would be closed as far as the government was concerned. When he got to his car an hour later, he wrote the correspondence down word for word as he remembered it and placed it in his shirt pocket.

  *****

  Bennett went to the fridge, pulled out a tall bottle of iced tea, then went out on his deck and sat on a comfortable outdoor chair overlooking the golf course. It was a picture-perfect day in Southern California. A slight breeze came off the ocean, and the temperature was comfortable at seventy-two degrees. A fifty-something woman walked by on the sidewalk in a bikini that didn’t cover much. She was walking her tiny white poodle with pink ribbons around its ears and collar. Bennett didn’t pay too much attention to the dog. However, the woman was another story. She had a stunning, perfectly tanned body and was very aware of the fact that she could turn heads of the opposite sex despite her somewhat advanced years. She had moved into the townhouse complex not long ago and had every man in the area drooling over her. Rumor had it that her old man had died having sex with her, although there was no proof to back up that claim.

  Another rumor was that her old man took too many magic blue pills and had sex without asking his doctor if his heart was healthy enough for sex. That, too, proved to have no merit. Word had it that she was loaded and on the prowl again for another sugar daddy. She looked up and saw Bennett sitting on his balcony and waved at him.

  He lifted his tea and smiled at her. She smiled back and kept on walking. The woman was absolutely hot, but Bennett’s thoughts weren’t on her for long; his conversation with the LA cop was still on his mind.

  If he was right, and it had something to do with the Mystic bombing, then there was only one person he could think of who was connected with Xuan Loc. And that person was now occupying the Oval Office at the White House. Bennett was unaware that Jensen had written the letter that Sanders had found, so he had no idea what the connection might be. However, he found it very strange that someone would be looking for the name of a dead CIA agent shortly after the bombing in Mystic and for what purpose. Bennett had seen enough backstabbing and cutthroat politics to know when something didn’t smell right, and he wondered where this would lead. Bennett decided that he needed to proceed with caution. After he had spoken with David earlier in the day, he needed more time to think. Now, as the day was ending and he had no new revelations, he decided to give David a call.

  *****

  David looked at the caller ID and suspected that it was General Bennett again. He answered the call on the second ring.

  “Hello, General.”

  There was a pause on the line before Bennett answered. He could hear a police radio in the background and was somewhat relieved.

  “Do you have any new information for me?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  “Good, but I want to meet with you in person. I don’t want to discuss this matter any further by e-mail or phone.”

  Now, it was David who paused on the line.

  “Ok…when and where?”

  “Are you busy tonight?”

  “I’m currently on duty, and my shift ends very late. I’m pretty much booked up tomorrow, but I can meet you the day after tomorrow around 10 or 11 in the morning.”

  They agreed to meet at a place and time, and then Bennett rang off.