Murder At the Pentagon (2014)
“The next morning. Sunday.
The helipad at the Langley, Virginia, headquarters of the Central Intelligence Agency had been dark. Now, as an army colonel in flight suit, a master sergeant in coveralls, and an army major in a tan, short-sleeved summer uniform approached a waiting helicopter, floodlights washed the area with harsh white light.
They climbed into the chopper, received permission to lift off, and headed in the direction of Andrews Air Force Base.
Their sudden and unannounced appearance... in Andrews Ops took the duty officer by surprise. He’d been lounging in a chair behind the flight desk reading the paperback edition of Ronald Reagan’s autobiography, although the reading resembled sleeping. He stumbled to attention as the major approached.
“Good morning, Lieutenant,” the major said. He pulled a set of orders from a slim briefcase and placed them on the desk. The lieutenant read carefully. “Two choppers tonight?” he said.
“Right. Overnight.”
“Yes, sir.” The orders had been drawn by the Central Intelligence Agency’s director of clandestine services, and had been signed by the director of the CIA himself, Thomas Hickey.MoreLess
The helipad at the Langley, Virginia, headquarters of the Central Intelligence Agency had been dark. Now, as an army colonel in flight suit, a master sergeant in coveralls, and an army major in a tan, short-sleeved summer uniform approached a waiting helicopter, floodlights washed the area with harsh white light.
They climbed into the chopper, received permission to lift off, and headed in the direction of Andrews Air Force Base.
Their sudden and unannounced appearance... in Andrews Ops took the duty officer by surprise. He’d been lounging in a chair behind the flight desk reading the paperback edition of Ronald Reagan’s autobiography, although the reading resembled sleeping. He stumbled to attention as the major approached.
“Good morning, Lieutenant,” the major said. He pulled a set of orders from a slim briefcase and placed them on the desk. The lieutenant read carefully. “Two choppers tonight?” he said.
“Right. Overnight.”
“Yes, sir.” The orders had been drawn by the Central Intelligence Agency’s director of clandestine services, and had been signed by the director of the CIA himself, Thomas Hickey.MoreLess
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