And now he’s ignoring it.
Liam thinks maybe he should say something, but…
Liam is CIA but also former Army, and he’s in the presence of the commander in chief, so he keeps his mouth shut.
The president says, “Quick question for you both, and one answer apiece. Who are the most dangerous non-state actors we face as a nation? Noa, you’re up.”
Noa crisply says, “Cyber.”
“Go on.”
She says, “We’ve gone beyond the point where hackers and bots can go out and influence an election or steal bank accounts or hold a city’s software ransom. They can turn off the power, switch off the internet, and incite people in a country to rise up against a supposed enemy. You can be a First World nation in the morning, but after the cyberattack you can be a Third World nation come sundown.”
The president nods. “Exactly. Liam?”
With Noa going before him, he has a few seconds to think it through and says, “Freelance terrorist cells and organizations. They’ll preach their ideology or twisted view of their religion while they’re killing people and blowing up things, but secretly they’re for sale to the highest bidder. They preach a good sermon, but in reality they’re nihilists. They’ll strike anywhere and anybody for the right price.”
“Good answers,” the president says. “Which is why I’ve called you both in here today.”
“Sir?” Liam asks. He’s not sure where the hell this is going, but his initial impression of his good-looking couch mate, Noa, is positive. She gave a neat, thorough answer to the president’s threat question. He has the odd hope that Noa has a similar feeling about his own reply.
The president clasps his hands together and leans over the coffee table.
“After decades of our being the world’s punching bag, I’ve decided this administration isn’t going to be reactive anymore,” he says. “We’re going to be proactive, go after our enemies before they strike. We’re no longer going to be the victim. I’m going to set up two CIA teams, one domestic, the other foreign, and you two are going to run them. I’m going to give you the authorization to break things, kill bad guys, and bring back our enemies’ heads in a cooler.”
Noa Himel lets the president’s words sink in for a moment before replying, still wondering what odd circumstances of life have brought her here, her first time meeting the president.
She’s originally from Tel Aviv, moving at age five with her family to New York City when her corporate banker mother got a great job offer. Dad is a graphic artist, and she’s their only child. After she graduated with a master’s degree in international relations from Columbia, her uncle Benny flew in from Israel to congratulate her and recommend that she talk to an old friend of his in Virginia about a job.
That led to two developments: getting employed by the CIA, and confirming the family rumors that Uncle Benny worked for Mossad.
The Agency was still “old boy” in that a lot of managers thought women recruits should go to desk and analysis jobs, but at the time Noa thought, Screw that shit—she wasn’t spending the rest of her life in a cubicle. She went for the Directorate of Operations and got in, not afraid to ask tough questions along the way.
Like right now.
“Sir…with all due respect, you know we can’t operate in the United States,” Noa says. “It’s against the CIA’s charter. Congress and their oversight…they would never allow it.”
His eyes flash for a hot second. “You think I don’t know that, Noa?”
Noa knows he’s quite aware of that, given his background as a former Army general, the secretary of defense, the CIA director, and a two-term congressman from California before he won the White House.
“Sir,” she says, “that’s what I meant by ‘all due respect.’ You have the authority to have the Agency conduct overseas operations and missions, but inside the United States…it can’t be done.”
“Nice observation, Noa, but it will be done,” he replies. “I’ve issued a presidential finding regarding the temporary deployment of CIA assets within the United States, and my attorney general has signed off on it. You and Liam have no worries about doing anything illegal. It’ll be on the books…though I’ll be the one keeping the books, of course.”
Noa waits for Liam to speak, but he’s keeping his mouth shut and his opinions to himself, usually a wise career move at the CIA. He’s dressed well and has a nice-looking face and light-brown hair, but he sits oddly, like he’d rather be standing armed in a desert somewhere. Besides, she thinks, he’s former Army, meaning in most circumstances, when receiving an oddball order like this, his instinct will be to salute first and ask no questions.