Time Skip (15 page)

“It is different.” Hooper said coldly. “I’m quite sure that if you haven’t done anything wrong, then we’ll get you home. But, as long as they think you’re holding out on them, which it seems you are, they’ll stall that release. The quickest way to end this whole thing is to give them what they want.”

It was now clear that Hooper was not on his side. He was just continuing the work of the interrogators from a different angle. “Well I have no intention of giving them my contact, and, unless I’m wrong, they have no means and no right to compel me to.”

He and Hooper went around like that a few more times, getting nowhere. Lovelle was hoping that in time the man would tire of the run around, give in, and simply do his job, which, as Lovelle saw it, was to advocate for his transfer to the American Embassy. Fending off Hooper took no real concentration or effort, so he was able to focus on strategy.

Lovelle considered offering Hooper a deal. He could promise to talk openly with the CIA once he was safely inside the American Embassy. But, since he was still hoping, remote as the chance seemed, that he might come out of the situation with his private life intact, he fretted over such a deal. He couldn’t tell them the truth, and he knew that they wouldn’t take kindly to his reneging on the offer once he was in their hands. He might be an American citizen, but, outside the borders of the U.S. he didn’t think it a good idea to mess around with the CIA. He had nothing else to share, so he'd have to renege. He would be bluffing his way into their custody and hoping they wouldn’t treat him too badly when they found out.

Then, as he considered this, he came up with the real answer. Lovelle had been struggling to obtain some sort of credibility to trade on, some way to get these people to take him seriously without having to tell them his incredible story. Then it dawned on him that he had laid that groundwork already. He had planned on using that credibility eventually. He would just be making his play a lot earlier than he had anticipated. The name of Emile Rosewood popped into his head. Rosewood was the FBI agent in Detroit who he had tipped off about the Oklahoma City bombing.

“I’ll tell you what,” Lovelle interrupted Hooper as he tried again to press him, “We’re both getting tired here, and I think you’ve got to have figured out by now that I’ve got no intention of telling you any more than I did in the first half an hour that you were here. So I’m going to get us both out of here.” Hooper raised his eyebrows, indicating for Lovelle to continue. “I want you to contact an FBI agent by the name of Emile Rosewood. The last time I had contact with him he was working at the Detroit office. I don’t imagine you’ll have too much trouble locating him. I want you to tell him that Felix the Cat has a tip for him. You can take me to him, or bring him to me, but, I won’t talk to anyone else, and I’ll only do it face to face.”

“There you go making demands again.” Hooper was certainly tired, but he didn’t take too kindly to being given terms. “How come you think…”

“Just make the damned call!” Lovelle interrupted in a near shout, going into his hard nosed routine again. He was nervous as hell, but, he was also determined that Hooper would never know that. “I’m tired of playing footsy with you, so I’m going to tell you exactly what I told the German’s right before they called you.” he paused and watched as Hooper shrunk back a little. Lovelle was getting the desired reaction, and so continued confidently “I don’t have anything else to say to you. Unless you plan on burying me before I ever get to the Embassy, you can’t deny me that right. It’s not going to look good for you if you leave me in German custody for no good reason. I will get my day in the public eye unless you are planning on putting me into a hole somewhere. In that case, then cooperation is a waste of my time. So I’m done talking to you. If you expect to get anything more from me, then you’ll get me in front of Rosewood. You can spin it any way that saves you face, and I won’t contradict you. I really don’t care about that, or about you. My purpose has been, and is, to save lives, and by hook or crook I intend to do it.”

Hooper said nothing. He simply got up and left the room. A short while later Lovelle was taken to his hotel to gather his things and check out, then he was quietly placed in a room at the Embassy to spend the night.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Late the next morning, Lovelle was put on the phone with FBI agent Rosewood. “No offense, Agent, but I told these people that I had nothing to say until I was face to face with you.”

“Yes, I was told.” Rosewood was clearly irritated. “I have every intention of dragging my ass to Berlin once I’m sure that you are who you say you are. Look, it’s four o’clock in the morning here, so if you don’t mind I’d like to get this over with.”

“Fair enough,” Lovelle said, “But, I have a hard time believing that dropping that particular pseudonym wasn't proof enough.”

“Yes, but I did need to hear your voice just the same. The inconvenience of a phone call seemed small in comparison to a flight to Germany.” Rosewood sighed, exasperated. “Can you do me the favor of explaining, just for the sake of surety, what our relationship is? And it might be helpful if you put on your southern accent.”

“Of course. I’m the man who tipped you off to the Murrah bombing plot, and you’re the agent who took my call. Apparently, you were competent enough to make the right judgment call and effectively use the info that I gave you. So I expect that I can count on you again.”

“If you have something worthwhile, I promise you I will follow up. Just please don’t waste my time.” The Agent implored.

“I have no such intention,” Lovelle assured him, without the accent..

*****

Later that evening, Agent Rosewood walked into a little conference room where Lovelle had been placed only a few minutes earlier. Rosewood identified himself to Lovelle’s satisfaction and sat down across from him. He sat between two serious looking gentlemen who had already been in the room when Lovelle had arrived.

“Do you mind if these gentlemen sit in on our meeting?” the agent asked politely.

That was a breath of fresh air. Lovelle already liked the way this was proceeding much better than he had since the Germans first picked him up. Agent Rosewood was showing him the deference of someone who was finally taking him seriously.

“As long as they don’t interfere with our discussion. What I have to say is bound to raise some questions, and I don’t want to be interrupted. I am working under the presumption that everything I tell you is going to be common knowledge among any concerned parties as soon as we finish. So it doesn’t matter to me if they hear it from you, or straight from this horse’s mouth. But, you’re the only one I expect to afford me enough credit to get through it without being cut short.”

“They won’t interrupt.” Rosewood assured him confidently. Lovelle presumed from the response that Rosewood had already established the ground rules, and was being given a lot of latitude. He was satisfied with the situation, so he spilled his guts. He laid out the same story he had been spouting for days. There wasn’t anything else to tell. Short of explaining how he had come by his info, Lovelle had been as forthcoming as he could.

Expecting to be questioned about his informant again, Lovelle had decided that he would not let that get in his way any longer. He was still hoping to avoid a flat admission that he had come by his information by supernatural means. He thought maybe he could tiptoe around the subject. But, if that admission were the only way to get the government to act on the intelligence he was giving them, then he would throw himself on that grenade. He was holding onto a bit of hope that Rosewood would leave the matter alone. He did not.

Rosewood was just as curious as anyone about how Lovelle knew what he knew. In fact, since this was his second encounter with Lovelle, Rosewood was actually
more
curious. He couldn’t imagine how one man could have intimate knowledge of both domestic right wing terrorists, and Muslim fundamentalist terrorists, and yet not be on the radar of any government agency. How could he move in those circles, developing sources, without ever crossing paths with the FBI’s own people? With Lovelle’s past rejection by the FBI and his failed background check, he certainly would have raised an eyebrow if he had.

“All right then. How do you know all that?” Rosewood got right to the matter as soon as Lovelle finished telling his tale.

“Would it suffice to say that I just know?” Lovelle queried, only half in jest.

“Even with your history, I don’t think anyone is going stake their career on just that.” Rosewood gave it to him straight. “McVeigh was easy. It was short notice, so we were able to see what he was up to with a cursory glance. We didn’t have to invest any serious resources to find out that your tip was good. But, now you’re talking about some pretty long term speculation. Even if we knew where this Atta was, we’re dealing with foreign territories, a vague plot, and something that is still in the planning stages. You add in a search for Atta and you’ve got a pretty extensive investigation.”

Lovelle considered his position. He was tired of the games, and was beginning to believe that there was no way out of this quagmire short of playing his Ace. He had racked his brain, but had come up with no answer. He could skirt the question a little longer and hope, but the odds seemed stacked against him. Lovelle had already ended any prospect of being able to go back to his anonymous life, so he wondered how much it would matter. His own future certainly didn’t matter enough that he was willing to fail. His only concern was in finding a way to foil the attack.

“All right, I need to come clean here.” Lovelle started, intending to dance around the subject. “I know a little more about the plot than I let on. I can tell you pretty precisely what they’re intending.” Rosewood was listening attentively. Lovelle continued, “They’re going to hijack planes and fly them into buildings. More precisely, the World Trade Center, The Pentagon, and the Capitol. They are fielding four teams, and there will be at least four terrorists in US commercial pilot schools. Atta will show up in one of those schools if you don’t nab him before he gets into the country.”

Lovelle knew that this sort of detail would only make the Feds even more curious about his sources. Still, if he continued to stonewall, he thought maybe they would still be able to verify what he was saying independently and take the appropriate actions. He had already decided that he would give them everything if it was the only way to get them to move. They would be pressing him pretty hard now, and he wasn’t sure how he would hold up. But this seemed like his last chance to keep his secret.

One of the other men in the room decided to interject, “Are we supposed to believe you know all that?”

Lovelle looked disapprovingly at the man and Rosewood took that cue. “Mr. Lovelle has proven to be very well informed in the past.”

The man was undaunted, “I don’t buy it. If he is so intimately aware of the nature of the plans, then he ought to be able to give us more than one name. And the one name he is giving up looks for all the world like a bum lead. None of this rings true.”

Lovelle wanted to be irritated with the man, but he knew he would feel the same if the roles were reversed. He wasn’t sure what to say next, and then Rosewood stepped in. “Do you have any more details, or is that everything?”

“I’ve got a few more names, but, I’m not sure if they’re directly involved or not.” Lovelle stopped, thinking of what else he might divulge and whether that info would make his story more believable, or less. “That’s why I’m in Hamburg. I was trying to piece some more things together before I called you again.”

He spent the rest of that evening telling Rosewood everything he knew. He gave them Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, Zaccarias Moussaui, and Richard Reid. He talked and answered questions until one of the other men suggested that they quit for the night.

*****

The next morning Rosewood met with Lovelle alone and asked him, “What are you trying to accomplish here?”

“I’m trying to stop a terrorist attack.” Lovelle answered, exasperated.

“So why are you holding back? Why won’t you give us what we need to verify what you’re telling us? Do you want to see the terrorists succeed because you didn’t trust us to protect your informant? We’ve got a pretty good track record of dealing with informants. I understand your reticence when it comes to a country you don’t know, but, we’ve got a damn good witness protection program. ” Rosewood was a little exasperated himself.

“Why do you need to know where I got my information?” Lovelle shot back. “You can verify this stuff yourselves. I don’t believe you’re gonna sit on it just because you don’t know how I found out. So you tell me, what are you going to do if I stop talking now? Are you going to lock me up?” This was his last ditch effort to save his normal life. He really did believe that the FBI would act on his leads regardless of what he did now. It seemed impossible that they could sit on so much intelligence just because they weren’t sure of the source. But, he was torn about it. He wasn’t sure if he was just being selfish and risking the lives of all of those people. He wanted Rosewood to confirm that every effort would be made to run down his leads, regardless of how they got them.

“It won’t be up to me what happens to you. I won’t lie to you, you might just walk away. But if it turns out you’re lying to me, I can guarantee you won’t. But, I don’t guess that’s what motivates you. I don’t think you’re spending your time and money on this for any other reason than to stop them. I don’t think you’re lying to me. But, that doesn’t mean that you’re right. It doesn’t mean that you haven’t been fed a bunch of lies designed to trip you, or us, up.” Rosewood continued, “The way I see it, you liked how it felt to stop McVeigh, so you decided to go after Arab terrorists too. Only I don’t know how good you are. I don’t know if you’re being played, and I need to know, before I start on a wild goose chase. So you see my dilemma. I need you to come clean, if you really want what you say you want.”

“Okay then.” Lovelle took a deep resigning breath. “Before coming out here, did you have anyone take a look at my background?”

“Of course.” Rosewood replied.

“Is that investigation ongoing?”

“There’s still someone working on it.” He answered, sounding a little confused about where Lovelle was going with this line of questions.

“Well, I’ll just tell you. If they haven’t figured it out yet, I don’t really earn my living as a substitute teacher. I’m actually a professional gambler. A sports book regular to be more precise. They’re going to see that I couldn’t possibly live as I do on my declared income. They’re also going to find that I have quite a small fortune socked away as even further confirmation of that fact. What they may not discover is exactly how successfully I have been working the sports books all over town. I do it all over town so that my winnings aren’t reported to the IRS. Instead of a few big payouts, I receive dozens of small ones whenever I win, and I win with extreme regularity. The best way to confirm this is going to be to just simply ask the people who work there. You’ll find a lot of people who recognize me as a very lucky, but, relatively small time gambler.” Lovelle paused to see if the agent had any questions. He was silent.

“Okay, so you’re wondering what the heck this has to do with my presence here, and my story. Well, the reason I know the outcome of so many sporting events is the same reason I knew that Timothy McVeigh was going to blow up the Murrah building, and why I know that eleven terrorists are going to hijack four planes and crash them into three buildings and a field in Pennsylvania on September eleventh. I'm a psychic.” Lovelle paused again, expecting Rosewood to object, or laugh, or something. But, he didn’t react. Lovelle continued, “Fifteen years ago I started having visions. They aren't always very clear. It's kind of like I had lived through the event, but, my memory of it isn't particularly clear.” Still Rosewood did not react. Lovelle guessed that his story was so incredible that the man wasn’t even entertaining the notion that it could be the truth.

“I’m not going to pretend to have any notion of how this happened. I certainly went through a long time of thinking it was my imagination. But it doesn’t take long to figure out that you know things that you shouldn’t know. You can find out that the places you’ve been in your visions really exist, even though there is no way you could have ever seen them. Then you realize that you know who won the Superbowl, and that you know who will win the next Presidential election. And you know that some racist fanatic is going to blow up a lot of innocent people, and that Muslim fundamentalists are going to hijack airplanes and fly them into buildings in the most horrendous terrorist attack you can possibly imagine.”

“Oh come on!” Rosewood finally reacted. “So now you’re telling me that you know not only what the plot is, but exactly what the result will be?”

“Yes!”

“And why didn’t you give us those details before?”

“How could I do that without telling you how I knew? I couldn’t. And I wasn’t ready to tell you my story. I don’t want to be telling you now. I wish the hell I hadn’t come to Germany. I had intended on calling you later, when the plot was fully formed, just like with McVeigh. But, now I don’t see how I can stop this thing if I don’t come clean. I’m telling you now that I know exactly what is going to happen if I don’t do something to change it.” Lovelle was animated now. Although he was still lying, he was getting something off his chest that he had carried around for fourteen years, and as frightening as it was, it was like a lead weight falling away. “If you don’t stop them, terrorists are going to completely destroy the World Trade Center, inflict massive damage on the Pentagon, and wipe out 3000 people. I don't know all the relevant names. Like I said, it's like I lived through the attack and the aftermath, but, I didn't know I was going to have to remember the details. But I know Atta is integral to the plot, and I know he went to school in Hamburg. I know he is going to come to America and learn to pilot a commercial jet. He is going to lead one of four groups of hijackers, hijack a plane out of Boston, loaded with fuel for San Francisco, and fly it into one of the Trade Center towers. All of that fuel is going to burn until the tower structure is so weak that the floors above collapse and take the tower completely down. I saw that just like I stood in front of a TV and watched it fall. And before it fell, I watched people jump to their death to escape the fire.” Lovelle was crying as he recalled the horror of that day. “A second plane is going to do the same exact thing to the other tower. A third is going to crash into the Pentagon. And a fourth is going to be retaken by the passengers and crash into a field in Pennsylvania.”