“He was ‘ex’ Ground Branch?” Harvath asked, seeking clarification.
“Correct. He was fired six months ago when the new director took over.”
“Fired for what?”
“For not having been there longer,” McGee explained. “He was a ‘probationary’ employee. Hadn’t hit the two-year mark. They’re easier to fire because they don’t have all the civil service protections yet. President Mitchell wanted deep cuts at CIA. You know how he feels about the intelligence community.”
“He’s not a fan,” Harvath replied. “I know that much.”
“The president believes the IC was behind the whole October Surprise thing exposing his college romance when he studied abroad in Russia.”
“Were you?”
“I don’t know where it came from, but it wasn’t CIA.”
“You’re sure?” Harvath asked.
McGee nodded before continuing, “Anyway, Mitchell campaigned on paring the size of government way back. And that went double, if not triple for the CIA. The new director began swinging the ax the moment he rolled into the parking lot. It was an absolute bloodbath. The probationary people like Cobb took it right in the neck.”
“So, Cobb gets cut loose and then what? Hangs a murder-for-hire shingle across the street at Immanuel Presbyterian?”
“I’m not sure what he did, but by the following month, his home was listed on the MLS. The month after that, he was in default on his mortgage, and behind on both his car payment and his wife’s.”
“Sounds like the wolf was at the door.”
“Then everything changes the next month,” said McGee. “The for-sale sign comes down, the house is taken off the market, and Cobb magically writes a series of checks, which all clear, catching him up on his mortgage and car payments.”
“Apparently someone suddenly came into some money.”
“Exactly.”
“But did a rich old aunt step in to save him?” asked Harvath. “Or could he have quietly put himself out there and actually been hired by the Iranians?”
“I was wondering the same thing, but according to my source, after he got his finances back in order, the money trail goes cold.”
“What about the other shooters?”
McGee pulled up their photos and stated, “All probationary employees. All Ground Branch. All fired.”
Harvath studied the pictures. They looked like photographs taken of hard copy, paper files. “Who’s your source at Langley? The archivist?”
“Everything inside the Special Activities Center, especially personnel files, is locked down tighter than tight. If you access any of the computerized databases, you leave a trail of digital breadcrumbs a mile long. Sometimes the old ways still are the best ways. Believe me.”
Harvath had seen that proven enough times to know that it was true. “What about the financial information? Where’s that coming from?”
“Someone I trust at Treasury.”
“And do we know anything about the rest of the attackers’ finances?”
“More or less, they all drop off the banking grid about the same time.”
“Interesting,” said Harvath. “So unless they had the same benevolent old aunt, it would suggest a more unsavory source of income.”
The former CIA chief nodded. “It looks like somebody may have bought themselves their own wet-work team.”
“Do we have any idea who?”
“That’s what I wanted to figure out. I recognized Cobb because he was featured in a mission briefing I signed off on about a year and a half ago. However, I hadn’t interacted with any of the others, so I pushed my source to find a link. And it looks like we hit the jackpot.