On the Trail of Snowden
“Ok you got the plan, C?” Benedict Eisenhower asked
“Yup. Got it all. Now hope things go according to plan,” Chelsea answered. She knew what she had to do – find Snowden and arrest him and bring him to justice – and though she’d been in far more difficult and dangerous situations than this before, but was a bit skittish about this one. Being stuck in an airport wasn’t her idea of the perfect holiday, but that was what she had to do. She only hoped she would get everything wrapped up quickly. If she was lucky, she would be in the right place to find Snowden. If not, then it was an effort wasted.
“Take this map. It’s of the airport transit area.” Ben handed her a folded paper. Opening it up, she saw it was a floor map. She looked at him questioningly.
“It’s an old blueprint we were able to get. We’ll see if we can find others to assist you in your search.”
“You want me to crawl through ventilators?” she asked. Her tiny frame would probably enable her to do that but she had a childhood fear of dark places.
“Not really, but you may have to do all sort of things. We don’t want this project to get wasted.”
She shrugged. Not if I can help it, she thought. But this role was important to her. It would help her get into the senior position and that what she had been dreaming of since she joined the agency. How far would she go to get that? Just don’t get yourself killed, she thought. Recognition isn’t everything. But it was to her. How she longed to be amongst those spies who went so far to do what was right for their country.
She folded the paper back and slipped it into her folder. Then taking her bag filled with the kinds of things a person on holiday would, C - a nickname she was known by everyone at the intelligence agency - went to her car for the drive to the airport. Dumping the bag in the back seat, she entered. C was an undercover intelligence agent – a well trusted agent who didn’t fail at what she started. She was a take charge person and this was something she had volunteered to do for the security of the United States – and to get the chance to enter the senior level in the intelligence agency.
But why was she nervous this time? She couldn’t understand the nerves. Was it because this was such a public case? Snowden was a name known to just about every person in the world. And likewise, when she accomplished her mission, she would be no longer hidden – everyone would know her and who she was. 8 years in the intelligence agency working undercover and this might be the first time she risked going public. But she had to do this. She was possibly the only one who wouldn’t attract suspicion.
She looked into the mirror and brushed a red-gold strand from her face. Her face covered in glamorous make-up of the most expensive brands, the 28 year old looked more like a successful businesswoman than an undercover spy. Sighing deeply, she put the car into drive and drove off.
An hour later, she was seated in the departure section of the airport, waiting for her plane. “Hi, there,” a man in his mid-20s came over. “Mind if I sit down?” he sat down without waiting for her reply. “You also going to Thailand?”
Uh oh the last thing she needed was making friends on this trip. She needed to be alone and as invisible as possible. Shrugging, she turned to stare out of the window at the many planes waiting there.
“I’m Mike. I’m going to Thailand for a couple weeks. Taking time off from study.” He continued.
She ignored him and wondered why some people couldn’t get the message. Just then her cell phone rang.
“C, a reminder, be as discreet as possible.” Ben’s whisper came into her hear.
“You telling me?” she replied irritably, already pissed off at the stranger who had interrupted her earlier but glad that the phone had rung. “We’ll discuss it when I see you at Lisbon.” It was the first thing that came to her mind. She was on her way to Thailand where she would be spending a week, before taking the flight to Prague. And she would be stopping over at the dreaded Moscow Sheremetyevo international airport transit area.
“Just avoid making friends. Don’t drive attention to yourself.”
“Uhuh” she replied, then clicked the phone off before switching it off. She was already all nerves and didn’t want anything making her more anxious.
“Your boyfriend.” The nosy man next to her said.
“Ex-” she replied, before grabbing her bag and getting up. She might as well check out the magazines at the shops instead of chatting up with strangers. Luckily she didn’t have to wait long before boarding began.
“Whew,” she said when she settled in her business class seat, relieved to finally be away from obnoxious travelers. She might as well enjoy her trip while she could. Taking the magazine she had just bought from her new tote bag, she relaxed and started reading. A few more hours and she’d be in Bangkok.
***
The week in Bangkok went by smoothly. She had to make a tourist image for herself and she made sure to go on every tourist outing. Her baggage size increased due to the shopping she had done during her stay. She’d spent a fortune there, and some of the items she had gotten she had absolutely no need for. No doubt they’d end up in the trash once she got out of this. She hopped the agency would remit the amount she’d just wasted.
Finally the day of the flight came. She was glad that she was getting out of there. Although the place was extremely likeable, but she’d been such a nervous wreck she didn’t enjoy anything. Maybe someday she’d return but for now she was glad to be leaving. And as she boarded the plane, she couldn’t help fight the butterflies in her belly no matter what. She needed something to get her mind off her mission. Just before takeoff, her partner called to ask how things were going. “I just can’t get this awful feeling off.” She whispered into the phone.
“Like?”
“I don’t know. I’m just nervous.”
“Relax. Everything’ll be fine.”
Sighing she hung up the phone.
***
At Sheremetyevo airport.
“Three-hours until your flight to Prague,” the stewardess eyed her curiously. Chelsea supposed they did the same with all passengers. Who knew how many came hoping for a rendezvous with Mr. Snowden.
“You can wait in the lounge.”
C nodded.
“It’s this way,” the stewardess went on. “Unless you want to rest at the hotel.”
“I’ll wait in the lounge.” C answered. “I think I’ll be more comfortable there. This place is notorious for its inconvenience.”
C tried her best to relax in the transit waiting area. Ordering an overly priced snack, she tried to pass the time. In a bit, the announcement would come. Anytime now. That was what she’d been informed. But the time kept passing – very slowly – but there was no announcement.
Until, finally she was informed that her plane was ready for departure. Grabbing her bags, she made her way to the plane. What was up? She wondered while trying to keep her surprise from showing. Where was the emergency that would keep her at the airport for a while?
Once on the flight she listened to all the announcements but none came other than the ordinary. Finally her plane took off. What the f---? She wondered. What had just happened? This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
“Would you like something to drink?” A steward asked once they were in the air.
“Yes,” she almost shouted. “I’d like a zesty drink.”
The steward poured it and said “enjoy your flight,” before heading on.
Enjoy my flight? C wondered. She wanted to scream. What was this all about? Had the plan been cancelled? Why hadn’t she been informed? She wondered, resting on the headrest, as the plane continued to take altitude. But just then, a sudden shaking happened before the emergency announcement came through. Announcing that there was a problem and that the passengers should be seated with their seatbelts fastened and shouldn’t worry and that they had to make an emergency landing. Then the plane started going downward a bit too fast. She held onto her seat, hoping the plane would land safely and they all didn’t die.
And they were back at Moscow’s airport, landing with a thud. Another announcement told them to get off the plane fast and not to try to retrieve their luggage. Well that was obvious. Whatever had gone wrong, the problem was no doubt still there. It was possible the plane would catch fire. All the passengers had questions. What had gone wrong? How soon would it be fixed? And everyone was eager to get off the plane as quickly as possible. Although none more eager than her.
Chelsea hopped out of her seat, grabbing her tote bag but leaving her other baggage in the overhead cabin. Then she scampered out of the plane along with the rest of the passengers, getting as far from the plane as quickly as possible.
“I’m glad I’m out in one piece,” She yelled. What were her colleagues thinking? Why not inform her beforehand that the emergency wouldn’t come until the flight took off?
And soon she was back in the waiting area of the dreaded airport.
Then she saw them. The paramedics. “Did anyone get hurt?” she asked those standing around her? But they didn’t have answers just as she didn’t.
“Did anyone get hurt?” she asked an airport employee.
“There were a few casualties.” She replied.
“How serious?”
“Were you flying with someone?”
“No, but I’d like to know.”
“Some people at the back got badly hurt. Some critically. A few died.”
“Died?!” Chelsea couldn’t believe her ears. Her mission had caused deaths. What was this? This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Where was the minor technical error that would keep her stranded for a day or two? Here there was a massive emergency resulting in injured and dead!
Now she was really strung-up. Maddeningly angry. She needed answers from her partners about this.
Fiddling around with her cell, she shunned the urge to call her partner and inquire. Not now. Not until she was alone in her room. She couldn’t attract attention or she’d definitely blow her cover. But suddenly she wondered if that was what she wanted to do. Shaking her head, she sat down and waited silently.
After a while, someone from the airlines informed the passengers that their plane wouldn’t be ready for take-off until the next day at least. “We are really sorry. We are trying to fix you with connecting flights as soon as possible.” They told the angry passengers. “The airlines will pay for your stay at the hotel.”
“Oh ****!” shouted the passengers. Angry voices filled the area. Finally, the passengers relented and allowed to be led to the dreaded hotel. There was special treatment of these passengers and the hotel management insisted that their needs would be fulfilled.
“We have a VIP section with a Gym and swimming pool. You may use it in the afternoon. And there’s a restaurant. Buffet dinner free for passengers of flight 211.”
The special treatment was a given. After all, the airlines was in danger of losing business, not one it was likely to risk doing.
And that was how Chelsea got into the 3rd floor hotel room who knew for how long. One problem was momentarily solved. But the other was possibly even more difficult. How to spot Snowden? Would he be anywhere where she might run into him? She had a few hours before she could go to the VIP area.
Switching on her phone she called Ben.
“What was that all about?”
“**** Chelsea couldn’t you turn your phone on sooner. We were worried.”
“I’m fine. But not what I can say for others. This mission cost us some lives.”
“Yeah, we heard. Nine people died.” Ben said casually.
“That’s terrible. Why the emergency landing? That wasn’t how we had planned it.”
“No other way to get you inside the right place without causing suspicion.”
“OMG I can’t believe how you can say that so easily! People have died. We caused deaths, Ben,” she wailed softly.
“Relax C. The end justifies the means. Collateral damage.”
“No it doesn’t. People died. Think of their families. It could’ve been me.”
“No it couldn’t. We placed you where you wouldn’t get hurt.”
“You mean you planned this all? Deaths and all?”
“It’s called preplanning. Just in case something went wrong. We didn’t initially plan to have people killed. But the possibility of casualties was there and it was high.”
“Ben, that’s murder.”
“Relax, Chelsea, what’s gotten into you? Get a drink or something. Rest for a bit. How soon can you go looking for Snowden?”
But Chelsea was crying. She’d faced death before. She’d even used a rifle in self-defense but never actually killed anyone – and never targeted an innocent person.
“Oh God,” she sobbed, “innocent people have died. What their families will be going through.” She sat on the bed unable to believe she was a part of the cause.
“Chelsea, sure you’re stronger than that. Stop it with the emotions. Think of all the people you’ll be saving. Gather your bearings. You have a mission to accomplish.”
“I need to go. Need to think.” She said.
“Don’t back down now. We’ve worked too hard.”
“Right,” she said. And killed some people in the process. Can’t waste all that, she thought to herself. Then hung up.
Next she called room service and ordered a coffee and some chocolate fudge. That always made her feel better. But she was starting to rethink her priorities. All of a sudden she didn’t want to accomplish this mission- didn’t want to find Snowden. Maybe he wasn’t the bad guy. But what would she say to her boss. What would it do to her job? If she didn’t do her part, no doubt she’d lose her job. But did she even want to remain working for these sort of people? She was a confused mess then. Not knowing what she wanted.
She turned on her laptop and started going through the pictures that had been prepared. The various ways Snowden might look. Various types of beards, moustaches, haircuts, etc. Not the first time that she was going through those pictures. She’d studied them for days since they put her on this mission; she had to recognize Snowden no matter what he might be looking like. She couldn’t risk missing him. But now she looked at them with a new mindset. Suddenly she wanted to meet Snowden for other reasons. Discuss with him the situation and know his side of the story. She’d heard the agency’s side of the story far too many times though she wasn’t unaware of the whole account due to the wide scale newspaper coverage. And as she went through the pictures, she noticed she wasn’t upset anymore. Nor nervous. She felt altogether different. She was ready to complete this mission. Her own way.
Finally, the time had come to go looking for him in the VIP area and dining area. She’d have until 10 that evening.
Going down to the reception she met many of the other passengers waiting for someone to lead them to the VIP area. The rooms were small and crammed and not very comfortable. This was a hotel where people stayed a few hours at most. Not one to provide much comfort.
A few minutes later, they were on their way to the Gym area. The place had a small fitness center, swimming pool, and a pool table. Something to provide special guests with adequate exercise. She walked around the fitness center, occasionally using one or another machine in the room. Then she checked out the pool area and the swimming pool.
Throughout, she observed every person in the place but to her dismay no one looked even remotely like Snowden. Either he didn’t come here today or he’d had a massive plastic surgery or he wore a mask. He wasn’t there.
At 8, she went to the dining area to eat dinner. Once again she watched the guests to see if she could find the man she was looking for but to no avail. He simply wasn’t there. But then that would be logical. He must’ve been informed that there would be passengers from the plane that broke down and it was likely that he decided not to come down, if he ever frequented this area normally.
2 hours later and after having eaten too much and drank too much and chatted with too many other people simply to prolong her stay in the dining area, she was back to her room. She was too tired to even move. A shower should help relieve some of the aches of being in transit for so long. But before that, she had to update her partner. Opening her cell phone she dialed his number.
“Tell me it’s good news.”
“He wasn’t there.”
“Shit!”
“What did we expect? He’s a smart guy. Even if he comes to that part normally, he wouldn’t today.”
“You can try again tomorrow, C. Or walk the halls. or the ventilation.”
“I’ll be making people suspicious if I venture out too much. And I’m not sure if I’ll be here tomorrow night.”
“We’ll see what we can do to make your stay longer.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. Someone like Snowden is hard to catch.”
Then she hung up. She knew what she had said was true. There was no way Snowden would risk alerting others of his whereabouts. But she wished she’d run into him. All of a sudden she was starting to admire the guy, what he’d done, his courage.
***
Chelsea was stuck at the airport for another day before her connection flight was arranged. The next afternoon was a repetition of the first. No sign of Snowden anywhere. Chelsea found herself disappointed. She was hoping that somehow she might run into him, although that was now highly unlikely. Why they even thought it would be possible was strange. No way that man would step in front of strangers so easily and blow his cover.
By the end of the evening she knew it had been wrong of her to come here. Not only did she not find Snowden but her visit had caused a human loss that couldn’t be recovered. Nine people had died and others were injured, some still in the hospital. What had she done? Why had they done this? Why couldn’t that have been avoided?
That night, as she waited for her departure time to approach, the answer to those questions were obvious. Because those lives didn’t matter. It didn’t matter who got hurt or who suffered losses. For some people, the end justified the means no matter what those means were, just as her colleague had said.
But now she knew that formula was wrong. Who decided what the end was? Who could claim that the “end” wouldn’t change? What evidence was there that the “end” was in everyone’s best interest and not just a few? And how could every “means” be justified? If a million people died in order to save a few or a particular lifestyle, could that be justified?
It was morally wrong. Nothing could justify the killing of innocent people who died in the process to attain some goal, no matter what the goal was. Crime simply couldn’t be justified.
And as she lay in her bed, Chelsea had some serious thinking to do, regarding her own part in the whole thing. Could she continue to work for such an organization? She knew that one way or another, she would be part of some task that caused loss or misery to someone. And she knew that that was something she couldn’t do. But what would be her course of action? Should she just inform the agency that she could no longer work with them? What about what had already taken place? The people that had been killed because of this mission? And many others who would die unknowingly because of other such missions.
The next morning, Chelsea knew what she had to do. There were still reporters at the airport, updating the process of flight arrangements and investigations going on about the broken down plane although the whole affair was subdued. And Chelsea decided to go public about what had really caused the accident. And then she took the flight to Iceland. Hoping she might get asylum there.
What would happen when her colleagues learned what she’d done? They’d no doubt be furious. What would become of her life? Would she get asylum? Time would tell. But she knew she’d done the right thing no matter what. She had no regrets