“Camp Peary entered into it not long after the cases began. ” “Because of the close proximity?”
He looked at Mark. “I’ll let you elaborate,” Wesley said to him.
I turned and confronted this man who once had shared my bed and dominated my dreams. He was dressed in navy blue corduroy trousers and a red-and-white oxford shirt that I had seen him wear in the past. He was long-legged and trim. His dark hair was gray at temples, eyes green, chin strong, features refined, and he still gestured slightly with his hands and leaned forward when he talked.
“In part, the CIA got interested,” Mark explained “because the cases were occurring close to Camp Peary And I’m sure it comes as no surprise to you that the CIA is privy to most of what goes on around their training facility. They know a lot more than anyone might imagine, and in fact, local settings and citizens are routinely incorporated into maneuvers.”
“What sorts of maneuvers?” I asked.
“Surveillance, for example. Officers in training at Camp Peary often practice surveillance, using, citizens as guinea pigs, for lack of a better term. Officers set up surveillance operations in public places, restaurants, bars, shopping centers. They tail people in cars, on foot, take photographs, and so on. No one is ever aware this is going on, of course. And there’s no harm done, I suppose, except that local citizens wouldn’t be keen on knowing they were being tailed, watched, or captured on film.”
“I shouldn’t think so,” I said uncomfortably.
“These maneuvers,” he continued, “also include going through dry runs. An officer might feign car trouble and stop a motorist for assistance, see how far he can getting this individual to trust him. He might pose as a law enforcement officer, tow truck operator, or any number of things. It’s all practice for overseas operations, to train people how to spy and avoid being spied upon.”
“And it’s an MO that may parallel what’s been going on with these couples,” I interpolated.
“That’s the point,” Wesley interjected. “Someone at Camp Peary got worried. We were asked to help monitor the situation. Then when the second couple turned up dead, and the MO was the same as the first case, the pattern had been established. The CIA began to panic. They’re a paranoid lot anyway, Kay, and the last thing they needed was to discover that one of their officers at Camp Peary was practicing killing people.”
“The CIA has never admitted that Camp Peary is its main training facility,” I pointed out.
“It’s common knowledge,” Mark said, meeting my eyes. “But you’re right, the CIA has never admitted it publicly. Nor do they wish to.”
“Which is all the more reason they wouldn’t want these murders connected to Camp Peary,” I said, wondering what he was feeling. Maybe he wasn’t feeling anything.
“That and a long list of other reasons,” Wesley took over. “The publicity would be devastating, and when was the last time you read anything positive about the CIA? Imelda Marcos was accused of theft and fraud, and the defense claimed that every transaction the Marcoses made was with the full knowledge and encouragement of the CIA….”
He wouldn’t be so tense, so afraid to look at me, if he felt nothing.
‘ . . . Then it came out that Noriega was on the CIA’s payroll,” Wesley continued making his case. “Not long ago it was publicized that CIA protection of a Syrian drug smuggler made it possible for a bomb to be placed on a Pan Am seven-forty-seven that exploded over Scotland, killing two hundred and seventy people. Not to mention the more recent allegation that the CIA is financing certain drug wars in Asia to destabilize governments over there.”
“If it turned out,” Mark said, shifting his eyes away from me, “that teenage couples were being murdered by a CIA officer at Camp Peary, you can imagine the public’s reaction.”
“It’s unthinkable,” I said, willing myself to concentrate on the discussion. “But why would the CIA be so sure these murders are being committed by one of their own? What hard evidence do they have?”
“Most of it’s circumstantial,” Mark explained. “The militaristic touch of leaving a playing card. The similarities between the patterns in these cases and the maneuvers that go on both inside the Farm and on streets of nearby cities and towns. For example, the wooded areas where the bodies have been turning up are reminiscent of the ‘kill zones’ inside Camp Peary, where officers practice with grenades, automatic weapons, utilizing all the trade craft, such as night vision equipment, allowing them to see in the woods after dark. They also receive training in defense, how to disarm someone, maim and kill with their bare hands.”