LITMIR.BIZ

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was being called off. “What the hell’s so secret that you dragged me all the way out here to tell me? Especially, under the false pretense of having lunch. And,” he added with a tinge of irritation, “why don’t I have time to eat?”

      A waitress—tall, skinny and brunette—appeared at the café door and walked to the table. “Hi, guys. Welcome to Farley’s. What can I getcha?”

      Davis looked up and blurted out, “An iced tea for me.” Then, looking at Larson, he added, “And one for my friend, too.”

      “Two cold teas coming up!” the young lady said with enthusiasm as she turned to go. Larson’s eyes followed the young, long legs until they disappeared into the building. Then, turning back to Davis, said, “Damn, Tom. You know I don’t like iced tea.”

      “Too bad,” Davis said bluntly and with no real concern. He might as well have said, shut up and listen!

      For a moment Larson wondered if he was being played. Davis’ brisk retort, which may not be unusual for an FBI agent when he was on duty, was a strangely different behavior than Larson had ever experienced before. At least, coming from Davis. As much of a friend as Larson was with Davis, he now recognized that this meeting was certainly not a social one. That meant that Davis had put on his professional game face.

      Larson followed up with the question. “What’s this all about, Tom?”

      Leaning even closer, Davis said, “Joe, there’s something going on at the Bureau that is of the highest priority. It’s one of those ‘eyes only’ type cases.”

      “Okay,” Larson said in a more appropriate, almost whispered tone. “You’ve got my attention. Now, what the hell is so special about an FBI case that you have to meet with me? Here?”

      Speaking softly Davis said, “Joe, our intelligence guys have intercepted some communication from…,” Davis’ eyes swept to the left, then the right before proceeding. “It’s communication from a Russian group.”

      “You mean, the Russian snoops?”

      In an even lower tone of voice, Davis said, “No, it’s the Russian mafia. And it was through that phone call the Bureau became aware of a potential leak in security with a Navy contractor.”

      Mentioning that it involved the Navy got Larson’s keen attention. He nodded toward Davis as he said, “I’m all ears. Go on.”

      “The Bureau only got wind of this last night. And our department got the news first thing this morning.”

      “How? Wire tap?”

      “All I can tell you is that the Bureau has some Russian up in New York City under surveillance.”

      “Okay. So, this information came to you this morning?”

      “Yes. A small group of us were called into a meeting about two hours ago. After hearing the report, we talked about how to proceed.”

      “Well, that’s easy,” Larson said. “If it has to do with the Navy then the Bureau has to call in NCIS.”

      “Yeah, they are. In fact, I’m sure your director knows about this by now. If he doesn’t, he will by this afternoon.”

      “Okay. So why are you here talking with me? I mean, this will go through official channels like every case does where there’s overlap of our agencies.”

      “Yes, but...” Davis was hesitant.

      “But, what?” Larson asked.

      “Well, there are complications that I don’t quite know what to do about.”

      To hear that last statement coming from the lips of one of the most intelligent, capable law-enforcement officers Larson had ever known was puzzling to him. “Complications?”

      “Yes. And it has to do with my family.”

      Larson knew that Davis’ father was the U.S. representative for his home district in Pennsylvania. “Is it your father?”

      “Actually it my father’s brother-in-law. My Uncle Steve Mason.”

      Larson waited rather impatiently to hear more as Davis put one hand to his forehead, rubbing it as if he had a headache. The FBI agent’s eyes were now looking down at the table.

      “Look, this isn’t easy for me,” Davis said with apprehension in his voice, revealing a new, more vulnerable side that Larson had never seen. “I’m on totally new ground here. And that’s why I called you.”

      Larson began letting down his guard as he saw his friend struggle with his thoughts. And then with his words.

      Davis’ eyes crept upward and, looking at Larson, he said, “I’m out of my agent suit now, Joe. I’m talking to you privately. As a friend. This conversation is totally off the record. And, if you were ever to reveal this to anyone, I’ll…” Davis’ was now looking sternly into the eyes of his friend. “Joe, if you say anything to anyone about what I’m about to tell you I’ll deny that it ever happened. Do you understand?”

      Larson agreed.

      With a sigh, Davis continued, speaking softly as he did so. “My Uncle Steve—he’s my mother’s brother—is the founder of an engineering company that designs and oversees the manufacturing of a variety of items for the military. The name of the company is M/X Technologies, formerly known as Mason/Wilcox Engineering. It’s located near Reading, Pennsylvania. That’s where I’m from, you know.”

      “Yeah, I know. I’ve been there, remember?”

      There was no acknowledgement of the several visits by Larson to Davis’ home when they were in college. Davis bypassed that as he went on with his information. “Well, the company has been working on a new guidance system that’s been ordered by the U.S. Navy for their submarine missiles. What I’ve heard from my uncle is that this system is a great improvement over the current one. They’ve just completed all the testing and now they’re waiting for final approval by the Department of the Navy. In other words, it’s ready to go to the manufacturer. According to information I have, once DON signs off, that system could be in use by the Navy sometime in the next two years.”

      Davis paused, looking at Larson as if waiting for approval to continue. He got it when Larson nodded his head and said, “Okay.”

      “When I was called into the meeting at the Bureau this morning I was informed that the communications intercepted involved someone from my uncle’s company and...” Again, Davis looked around before he continued. “…and a representative of the Russian mob up in New York. The information was specific enough that it made the Bureau aware of a breech of security at M/X Tech.”

      “So your saying that the Russians are trying to get their hands on this new missile-guidance system?”

      “Yes. At least, the plans for it. And they have made contact with someone working at M/X Tech.”

      “Wow,” Larson said with true feeling as he responded to the information he had just been given. “Serious stuff.”

      “Very serious.”

      “Does the Bureau have names?”

      “They have a name on the Russian side. But not on the M/X side.”

      Larson tapped his fingers on the small café table, a sign that he was now thinking about what he had just heard. “Do you think your uncle knows anything about this?”

      “I doubt that he does. I just got the information awhile ago.”

      The next question was a delicate one. “No, I mean…” How should he phrase it? “I mean, do you think he is involved?”

      “Not at all,” Davis said empathically with his head shaking. “Uncle Steve’s an American through and through. A real flag waver, loyal to the values and beliefs of this country.

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