IT TOOK SOME TIME to get a warrant at that hour, and the judge who granted it didn’t seem at all pleased about having authorized a search of Camp Peary. Yet the videotape and the testimony of Sean, Michelle and Horatio carried the day. Still, dawn was breaking as the line of Suburbans pulled to a stop in front of the entrance to the CIA’s facility and Ventris and Hayes led two dozen federal lawmen and Sean and Michelle toward the guardhouses.
At Sean’s insistence Horatio Barnes had been escorted back to northern Virginia by a pair of DEA agents to nurse his strained back, saturated lungs and a severely stressed nervous system. Sean had given him the copy of the video stick showing the plane, Arabs and drugs from Camp Peary with instructions for Horatio to make additional copies of it and to put them in separate safety-deposit boxes.
Ventris held up the warrant and his creds as three armed guards from the front gate approached him.
“You’d better get one of your superiors out here, gents,” Hayes said, flashing his badge as well.
The guard said in a crisp professional tone, “Actually, sir, your superiors are here.”
Two other men came out from the guard building. One wore a suit; the other was dressed in khakis with a blue DEA windbreaker.
Sean’s heart sank as he saw Ventris and Hayes stiffen. The man in the suit said, “Agent Ventris, give me the warrant.”
Ventris said, “But sir, I-”
“Now!”
Ventris handed it over. The man looked at it and then tore the paper up.
The man in the DEA jacket said to Hayes, “Now give me the video that was shot.”
“How’d you know about that?” Hayes asked.
“You showed it to the judge to get the warrant. Now give it to me.”
Hayes pulled the video from his pocket and gave it to his boss, who in turn gave it to one of the Camp Peary guards.
“Now get your men back in the vehicles and get out of here.”
Hayes immediately started to protest but the man cut him off.
“National security interests are at stake here, Hayes. I’m not saying I like it, but that’s just the way it is. Go!”
Ventris’s boss nodded curtly at him as well. “You too.”
The men turned back toward the Suburbans. Michelle and Sean started to follow, but the Camp Peary guards stopped them.
“You two are being detained,” one of them said.
“What!” Sean exclaimed.
Ventris and Hayes started to intercede but their two superiors stepped in.
“Get in your damn vehicles and get the hell out of here. We have no jurisdiction at this place,” Ventris’s boss said.
“We had a warrant,” Ventris said bitterly.
“Do you want to go to prison for obstruction, Mike?” The man glared at Sean and Michelle. “Or for harboring and aiding and abetting felons? Now get your ass in the truck and pretend this was all a nightmare. That’s an order.”
Ventris and Hayes looked helplessly at Michelle and Sean. Sean nodded. “Go on, guys, we’ll work it out.” He didn’t sound too confident because he wasn’t.
As the motorcade drove off, footsteps made Sean and Michelle turn around. Valerie Messaline was standing there dressed in beige fatigues, her CIA ID on a lanyard around her neck.
“Welcome to Camp Peary,” she said. “I understand you’ve been dying to visit.”