Self-Sabotage

Prologue

January, 2014

Secret Agent Ryan Osborne, 0014—twice as good as that pussy, James Bond—having just arrived at the American embassy in London, after having already saved the planet that morning, dashes into the devastated compound. He had transmitted the warning about the bomb, saving thousands of innocent lives—all in an afternoon’s work for 0014—and it had been completely evacuated, or so they thought. The bomb had gone off, leveling most of the main facility, but leaving a wing intact. A beautiful woman who looks just like Charlize Theron, stands in the courtyard, weeping and pleading for someone to help her, for her three little kiddies are trapped on an upper floor. Flames have kept the overpaid chickenshit firefighters out. Secret Agent Osborne scales the wall like doofus Jason Bourne in that cool movie where he can’t remember he’s doofus Jason Bourne.

Osborne.

He gains entry through a broken window and sees a terrorist and three young children who are crying. The terrorist gathers the youngsters around him for protection and shoots at Osborne, but Osborne rolls one way and jumps the other. While in mid air, he finds a tiny gap between the children and puts a bullet through the brain of the terrorist, and the little tykes cry Yucky! the way kids do whenever they get brains on them. With the fire now raging all around them, 0014 scoops up the oldest child, puts him on his shoulders and takes the others in each of his powerful arms. He hurdles the flames, only to see a second terrorist, this one a beautiful black lady who looks exactly like Rihanna—

Osborne, time for the meeting.

Rihanna says, Before you kill me, Mr. Osborne, please make love to me. He knows it might be a trick, but he can’t take the chance of not banging Rihanna. Osborne opens a door, blows out the flames in the closet, shoves the screaming children in, and shuts the door. He grasps Rihanna, rips off her clothes, and—

Osborne!

Shut up!

Pleasures her beyond any words I can think of. Suddenly, she pulls out a knife from … er, somewhere, and thrusts it toward his back, but his lightning reflexes do her in; he’d rolled off her, and she stabbed herself in the heart. With her dying breath she says, Thank you, Mr. Osborne, for the best ten seconds of my life. He winks at her and grabs the children, putting the largest on his shoulders and carrying the other two in his muscular arms. As he climbs down the wall, one child falls off his arm, but he catches her with his foot. He makes it down and deposits the kids at the feet of their beautiful mother, Charlize, who kisses him and whispers, Make love to me, Mr. Osborne. So he stuffs the little buggers into the trunk of a car and tears off her clothes—

Come on, Osborne, said Nicolette Boisvert, stop daydreaming; it’s your turn to make the coffee.

Ah, shit, said Ryan Osborne as he sauntered out of his cubicle down the hall to make coffee for the office staff.

Chapter One

Ottawa and Regina

William Hudson, a stout, balding man, sat at a small, round table in his office across from a lovely brunette who’d traveled up from Washington D.C. to meet with him. He said, Frankly, Ms Meyer, I’m having a hard time accepting your conclusion. Not to imply you’re lying or anything, but that office isn’t exactly staffed with the best and brightest, if you know what I mean. Off the record, the Regina district office is where we send people who can’t cut it in this cutthroat business, but who we can’t get rid of because of human rights or union issues. A burnt-out operative nearing retirement is in charge, and she oversees a handful of low-level staff. I can’t imagine anyone capable of what you’re talking about.

Our techs are positive the intelligence originated from your Regina office, said Jenna Meyer.

The London bombing was last Thursday, correct? Jenna nodded. I was on holiday last week, but I can’t imagine why my staff wouldn’t have appraised me about this incident when I returned.

He meant apprised, she mused. Maybe he’s dim-witted.

Give me a few minutes while I check with my staff. William left her sitting in his office.

She used the opportunity to phone her supervisor in Langley. Hi, it’s Jenna. It looks like I’m going to have to go to Saskatchewan. Mr. Hudson doesn’t appear to know much of anything. Her boss gave his consent, and she hung up.

William returned. He said, No one here knows anything about a Regina connection to the bombing. If we confirm your intelligence came from that office, believe me we’ll be going over our internal procedures. All district and regional offices are required to send such intelligence to this office. I won’t stand for my people flaunting the rules.

Thinking, you’re flouting the rules of the language, Jenna said, Please brief me on the personnel there.

Veronica Greenburg is the office manager. She’s smart, but over the hill and not a techie. Karen Park is just an administrative assistant; she wouldn’t be capable of this. Charles Barley is the protective security officer at the office; again, not capable of anything like this. The systems analyst is Wallace Bowlby. He was here at head office until maybe the turn of the century. We shipped him out to Regina because his skills were past-dated then. Ryan Osborne was burnt out when he started, I think. He applied to become a field agent but couldn’t meet our standards, so he was hired as a strategic analyst. Even at that, he couldn’t cut it. Frankly, he’s considered a joke, and if you ask me, I think he has mental problems. The final straw was when he microwaved a hamster. Here Jenna grimaced and shook her head. We demoted him to a research assistant and shipped him off to Saskatchewan. And there’s a Nicolette Boisvert; I’ve never met her. She’s a tactical analyst. If it was someone in Regina, it was probably her.

Can I talk to her, Greenburg, and Bowlby?

Of course. I’ll call right now.

William dialed the Regina office and put the phone on speaker.

Morning, Regina CSIS here, said a male voice.

Who’s this? Osborne? said William.

That’s not a very nice way of greeting someone.

Where’s Veronica?

She stepped out for a shit.

Cripes, Osborne, show some professionality; I—

Quite an ironic statement, Hudson.

Are you inferring I’m not a professional? asked William.

"I’m implying you’re not a linguist."

What? Never mind. I have a Ms Jenna Meyer with me from the CIA.

Hello, said Jenna. Ryan said nothing, so she tried again. Hello?

"Uh, always happy to meet a fellow spy from our side. You are still on our side?" said Ryan.

As far as I know.

We need to speak to Veronica, said William.

She’s away from her desk for the moment.

Where? This is important.

She’s drafting something related to sewage. I just hope the draft doesn’t reach me.

I’ll be speaking to Veronica about your complete lack of professionality, Osborne.

Good, maybe she can tell me what it means. Can you let her know I said you’re looking for her?

This flippy attitude is what got you demoted, Osborne.

Define flippy.

William pushed the mute button and said to Jenna, I’m sorry; as I mentioned, he’s loony. If he wasn’t in the union I’d have fired him years ago.

Ryan said, Oh, here she is. Veronica, Hudson’s on the line. He has a Ms Jenna Meyer from the CIA with him.

Hello, William and Ms Meyer. How can I help you? said Veronica.

You obviously heard about last week’s attack on the U.S. embassy in London? said William.

Yes, we were discussing it before you phoned.

Hi, Veronica, Jenna here. We’ve learned that the warning about the bomb came from your office.

You mean the warning we sent almost four hours before the explosion? Why the hell wasn’t the explosion prevented? said Veronica.

I got the warning only twelve minutes before the explosion, replied Jenna.

Why wasn’t I informed, Veronica? said William, clearly incensed. Any communications with external parties are supposed to come from this office.

Do you really want me to answer that in front of our guest? said Veronica.

Uh, why, uh, not? stuttered William, now looking unsure of himself. You clearly sent the intelligence to someone who didn’t know how to action it. That’s why we have strict procedures in place, Ms Greenburg. From the district office to the regional office to headquarters.

When we followed procedure last time, the American frigate ended up at the bottom of the sea.

Jenna’s eyes opened wide, as did William’s. He said, What? That’s impossible. When did this supposedly occur?

"It definitely occurred last Christmas Day, when, as you must know, the USS Stout was sunk. We intercepted a communication on Christmas Eve that the ship would be attacked and sent the intel to Edmonton with a copy to your office four hours and twenty-three minutes before the attack. As far as we know, nothing was done with the information."

Uh, I’ll try to collaborate what happened here and get back to you, he said, and he hung up. He looked nervously at Jenna and continued, There has to be an explanation. I was on holiday most of December last year, and this was off my sonar. Jenna nodded. I’ll need some time to sort out what’s going on. Best bet is Osborne screwed up, but I’ll need to confirm that. Can you give me … He looked at his watch. … maybe till one PM? She nodded once more. Okay. You’re welcome to use an empty office here for the rest of the morning, and we can have lunch together. There’s a great place right down the block.

Crap, she said to herself. That’s nice of you, she said to him.

#

William called his staff together to determine how to ensure any blame for the mess fell elsewhere. He then set up a conference call with Regina for 1:30.

Jenna was invited into William’s office at 1:30. He dialed the Regina office.

Good afternoon, Ottawa, said Veronica.

William said, Hello. I have Ms Meyer with me.

Hi, said Jenna.

William went on, Okay, the purpose of this meeting is to get to the bottom of the communications issues with respect to the Christmas Day attack on the American frigate. Veronica, please let us know who’s in the room. I guess you know that this conversation is preserved for those with top-secret clearance.

A man piped up, Veronica, Nikki, Wallace, Ahmad Abdul Aziz Al-Juhani, apparently one of us is suspected of spying for al Qaeda. Wallace, I want you to go to Mecca and get those bastards moving on my kabsa … Okay, he’s left the room.

Quiet, Ryan, said Veronica, who couldn’t hide a chuckle. I have Nikki, Wallace, and Ryan with me.

No need for Osborne to be there, said William. Ms Meyer doesn’t need to speak with him.

Jenna thought it was poor form to mention this, but said nothing. It was just as well; she didn’t want the meeting undermined by someone who obviously didn’t care about the communications snafus that had cost hundreds of lives.

Oh, said Ryan, and I was so looking forward to this. It’s a real thrill to be here—well, not quite a thrill; more like a bore. So long.

A bore! Jenna exclaimed to herself. Hundreds of people were killed in these attacks. What a jackass.

Now, wait a minute, said Veronica. Ryan was centrally involved in all this. He’s staying.

That’s fine, said Jenna.

Really? Oh, thank you, ma’am! said Ryan.

God, this guy’s annoying, thought Jenna.

Ryan, this isn’t helping, said Veronica. William, I had asked for a meeting to discuss this in late December, but never heard back.

I was on holiday.

Well, it’s now mid-January and we still haven’t heard anything about what happened on your end regarding the USS Stout. Clearly we need to resolve these communication problems so they aren’t repeated.

Agreed, said William. I wouldn’t be much of a manager if I was adverse to that.

This man’s an idiot, mused Jenna.

William went on, We’ve done a primary investigation on this. We never received any notice about the USS Stout in this office.

That’s strange, said Veronica, because according to our records, we sent notice by email at 2:08 AM our time, which is 3:08 Ottawa time. Isn’t that right, Wallace?

Yes, said Wallace, it went out at precisely 2:08 and thirty-two seconds on December 25.

It didn’t bounce back to us. Surely it didn’t just get lost, said Veronica.

Obviously it did, if that’s what our records show, said William. But the email problem could’ve been avoided if established procedure was followed. We have no record of the affirmatory phone call that’s supposed to be made to ensure critical messages have been received before an eminent event.

Jenna struggled to prevent herself from rolling her eyes at Mr. Malaprop.

I called several times; no one answered, said Ryan.

That’s simply not possible, said William.

Oh, well, if it’s not possible, I guess I didn’t. As far as I know, I’ve never accomplished the impossible. So the only conclusion I can draw is I’m lying.

Shaking his head at Jenna, William said, You likely dialed the wrong number.

That’s simply not possible, said Ryan.

This is not the place for levitation, Mr. Osborne.

For God’s sake, Hudson, said Ryan, get a frigging dictionary, will you?

What are you talking about? said William is a testy tone.

Stop this obvious attempt at a whitewash and come clean about your mistake so we can make sure this doesn’t happen again.

"No mistakes were made at our end, Mr. Osborne, and I deeply resent the insertion."

I swear, Hudson, you’d have to be twice as smart to be retarded.

William’s face turned red. Red for anger, Jenna concluded.

Ryan, said Veronica. Wallace, our phone records indicated one completed call to Ottawa at 5:15 that morning, Regina time.

That’s right, said Wallace.

William responded, First, we have no record of that supposed call; second, that’s three hours too late.

That’s because no one answered! yelled Ryan. I called at 2:15 and at fifteen minute intervals for three frigging hours. I finally left a message at 5:15. If you don’t have that message, your office deleted it because you didn’t want evidence you screwed up.

How dare you! cried William, face now bright red, before Veronica interrupted.

Let’s put this issue aside for the moment, said she. Ms Meyer, why was three hours and forty-eight minutes warning not sufficient to stop the disaster in London?

Sorry, but I can’t discuss that, said Jenna.

So, what have we achieved here today? said Nikki. That email is unreliable? That calls either weren’t made or weren’t answered? Is that all?

We’ve achieved something critical, said Ryan. We’ve learned that falsifying records and lying to shift the blame from Ottawa and Washington to Regina, and specifically to me, works like a charm.

That’s the kind of nonsense that has your job at big risk, Osborne, exclaimed William.

I’m quaking, Hudson, said Ryan.

Ryan, please. But, William, I have to say I agree with Ryan’s assessment.

William warned, Veronica, you should be careful—

Stop, said Veronica. I’ll be retiring soon, so keep your threats to yourself. Goodbye.

Wait, said Jenna. Veronica, with William’s blessing, I’d like to come to Regina to learn how you’ve uncovered these plots. We obviously have a lot to learn from you.

That would be fine, Ms Meyer, said Veronica.

Would 9 AM tomorrow be okay? asked Jenna.

Sorry, I’m booked all morning, but if you can come around noon we can eat lunch and talk one-on-one before we sit down together as a group to discuss this, said Veronica.

Great. See you then.

William pushed the button to end the phone call. Once again, Ms Meyer, you have my apologies for Osborne. I’m going to double my efforts to drum him out now.

Thank you for all your help, Mr. Hudson. I guess I’m off to Regina.

We’d be happy to run you to the airport.

I’d appreciate that, thanks.

#

Well, that was perfectly useless, said Veronica to her staff, who were seated around a rectangular table in a room that doubled as a conference room and lunch room.

Maybe if Osborne didn’t go out of his way to insult Hudson, we might’ve got something accomplished, said Nikki.

Think, Nikki, said Ryan. Ottawa screwed up and they mean to shift the blame to us. Same for Washington. It doesn’t matter what anyone here said or did.

You’re both right, said Veronica. They both messed up and we’ll be the scapegoats, but, for heaven’s sake, Ryan, why do you have to be so provoking with him? You just make things harder for us.

"He’s such a moron, he triggers my attack mode. Every time he speaks, in my head I start humming his theme song, If I Only Had a Brain, and I have to taunt him."

You can bet he’ll try to fire you again, and neither of us needs the grief. All right, let’s get back to work. Ryan, wait a minute. Nikki and Wallace left the room. Veronica resumed, Honest to God, Ryan, I wish I understood you. You’re brilliant, but you seem intent on proving the opposite to the world, especially in the last month or so. Why?

Safer that way.

What does that mean? Safe from whom? He shrugged. Veronica continued, Ryan, what the hell is going on?

I’m not sure. Just be careful what you tell the Americans.

I let you get away with a lot around here because I respect your intellect and because I thought you respected me.

I do.

Then, for the tenth time, tell me how you found out about those attacks.

Nikki already told you she decoded email messages that Wallace downloaded.

She looked at him for a moment, then shook her head and left the room.

Ryan called after her, I really do respect you, Veronica, then he muttered so she couldn’t hear, I don’t want your life at risk, too.

#

Jenna had requested brief summaries from the CIA on the six Regina CSIS employees while waiting for her plane in Ottawa. In her hotel room the next morning, she sipped on a coffee and read the reports. She skimmed the first page of each report, which presented demographics and other basic information, including nuclear family members, education, employment history, and financial data such as bank account and credit card balances.

The key part of these reports was at the end, where the analysts brought together data on the individual, along with potentially interesting content from emails, phone calls, and texts to determine potential threats to the United States and potential vulnerabilities that could be used against the individual, if necessary to secure cooperation.

Jenna was most interested to read the files on Nikki Boisvert and Wallace Bowlby. There was little noteworthy on Nikki other than she had maxed out her three credit cards and loved to travel—she’d been to Las Vegas, Paris, and Hong Kong in the previous twelve months, none of which were business trips. Her education, masters in geography, seemed to suggest she wouldn’t be capable of high-level computer work that would’ve been required to intercept the communiqués. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary with the other two females in the office, and again, judging by education and experience, neither had the necessary computer expertise.

She drew the same conclusion about Charles Barley, although he had an interesting vulnerability that could potentially be exploited for inside information on the people in the Regina office.

TOP SECRET//COMINT//FOUO

Charles Edward Barley

Threat assessment: Low. Mr. Barley is essentially a highly paid security guard. He appears to have no knowledge of computer systems.

Vulnerabilities: There is virtually no doubt that Mr. Barley and Mr. Bowlby are carrying on a homosexual affair. Mr. Bowlby is regularly sexting pictures of himself dressed as a woman to Mr. Barley, who has on occasion responded with semi-nude pictures of himself. The two vacationed together in Hawaii last February 2-15. One picture, attached, shows the two kissing.

There is no evidence from email, texting or phone records that Mr. Barley has publicly declared himself to be gay. His daughter, Rhonda, has attempted at least once to set him up with a woman. Nothing in her correspondence or phone calls indicates she has knowledge of her father’s sexual predilections. It is likely that Mr. Barley may volunteer information if you hint that his daughter may be devastated with such knowledge.

Even though Wallace Bowlby shared this vulnerability in theory, it was evident he wasn’t trying to hide his sexual proclivities. This was unfortunate, thought Jenna, since he was the most likely suspect.

TOP SECRET//COMINT//FOUO

Wallace Frederick Bowlby

Threat assessment: Medium to high. Mr. Bowlby is a computer analyst by training and occupation. His training appears to be outdated, and there is no evidence he has been innovative during his career. However, he may have the capability to pick up new computer skills that others have devised.

Vulnerabilities: There is virtually no doubt that Mr. Barley and Mr. Bowlby are carrying on a homosexual affair. Mr. Bowlby makes no bones (no pun intended) about his homosexuality. He never misses Toronto’s annual gay pride parade (text to Mr. Barley, June 5, 2012, with photo attached), always dressing as a woman. We know he is more than a transvestite because he has attempted to tempt other men into affairs, the most relevant example being Mr. Osborne (see Osborne file). Because he does not try to hide his sexual orientation, it may not be possible to exploit it.

Analysis of business expenses suggests that Mr. Bowlby regularly defrauds his employer. He typically charges the government for first-class fare, but flies coach and pockets the difference. He registers for conferences when the locale is attractive, then goes sightseeing instead of to the conference. He over-charges for hotels and meals (comparison of actual credit card charges to expense reports submitted). Any of these practices could be grounds for dismissal, especially in the context of Canadian Senate hearings on senators abusing expense privileges. Canadian media are fixated on the topic.

She glanced at Ryan Osborne’s file.

TOP SECRET//COMINT//FOUO

Ryan Robert Osborne

Threat assessment: Low. Mr. Osborne has no mathematics credits and hasn’t gone beyond introductory computer science at university, according to his official transcript. His GPA was 2.14, and his grade in computer science was 50%. He took finite math but failed the course. His high school math marks were poor. His personnel file at CSIS suggests his skills as an analyst are held in low regard. His reputation is he makes a joke out of everything, especially himself. He donated to the Free Snowden website, which demonstrates his questionable political leanings.

Jenna agreed with the assessment, but was surprised about his GPA; he seemed quick-witted on the phone. He probably didn’t take school seriously either. She decided to read the previous two pages to get the details.

He spends a good deal of time reading alternative media sites such as zerohedge.com and marketoracle.co.uk and watches videos on Youtube on the topic of an imminent economic catastrophe. His political ideology is most probably libertarian.

He also spends an inordinate amount of time watching porn and occasionally downloads pornographic pictures or videos from sites such as theNUDE.eu and redtube.com. Google searches most often relate to his work, but occasionally stray to porn, even while on the job. For example, on December 3, 2013, using his computer at the CSIS office, he searched, Nina Dobrev naked, Victoria Justice naked, and Bar Refaeli naked.

Osborne may be homophobic. Mr. Bowlby once sent a provocative picture of himself to Osborne (April 19, 2011, attached). Osborne responded that same day, Shit, Wallace, I’ll be flaccid for a month now. Send one more picture like that to me, you’ll be boning yourself because I’ll kick your cock up your ass. In one of Osborne’s emails to his brother (Michael Osborne), dated January 22, 2009, Ryan Osborne said the following: I unfortunately walked in on two men in the washroom at the pub. All I can say is either they were Siamese twins conjoined in the most disgusting way imaginable, or they were fairies. I threw up and ran away crying.

Mr. Osborne is careful about compromising himself, perhaps because he is aware of the capabilities of security agencies, or because he works for one and is worried about continued employment. We found no evidence of illegal activities, with two possible exceptions: he may use illicit drugs and he frequents prostitutes. On August 9 last year he and his brother exchanged the following text messages.

Michael Osborne: I got some real good weed you have to try when you get here.

Ryan Osborne: Careful, big brother; Big Brother is ever vigilant.

This would appear to confirm he’s worried about being watched and suggests he uses marijuana. A thorough search when he crosses our border is indicated.

As for prostitutes, he had this exchange with a $500/hour escort in Regina last December 21.

Candice Morgan: I know we have a professional relationship, but I wonder … No, I probably shouldn’t say anything.

Ryan Osborne: We’ve been buddies for almost a year. If you can’t confide in me—good.

Candice Morgan: You can be a real jerk, you know. There’s this guy who’s been hinting he might want something permanent with me. He’s rich, but he, I don’t know, he scares me.

Ryan Osborne: Who is he?

Candice Morgan: Peter Neal. I’m sending his picture now.

Ryan Osborne: He’s got that cute-pedophile-next-door look. I’ll look into him.

Candice Morgan: Thanks. Why aren’t very cute, nice guys like you interested in something permanent?

Ryan Osborne: I was a jerk a second ago. I seldom get accused of being nice.

Candice Morgan: Come on, you’re a real sweetie under your gruff exterior. What’s the worst thing you ever did?

Ryan Osborne: Sarah Pennington.

Candice Morgan: For a minute there I thought you were sentient. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bring me something impressive.

Ryan Osborne: I always do.

Candice Morgan: Pervert. I meant a Christmas gift.

Ryan Osborne: Me too. I’m holding it in my hand as we text. I’m going to perform a cavity search on you with it.

Candice Morgan: A gift implies you’ll be