Free Groom Lake by Bryan O Page B

members of Aquarius.
    Aquarius existed under the auspices of the CIA, but the organization was its own entity, and operated as such. Unlike other branches in the intelligence community, Aquarius was not regulated by typical bureaucratic checks and balances; an elite committee of twelve individuals had been overseeing the organization since its inception in the fifties.
    Owens had devoted his life to Aquarius, as was expected. After sixteen years, he became commander of the aristocratic intelligence agents responsible for protecting sensitive technological information possessed by the United States government—information that had garnered the catchphrase Above Top Secret .
    Owens studied his latest disciple, Kayla, sitting in the passenger seat of their Suburban as he filled the vehicle with gasoline. They had a critical task to attend to, which would require a long drive before it was over, and he wanted to fill up before they had any passengers. The situation confronting them would expose Kayla to new facets of their operations, and he had decided it was time to elevate her understanding, and not just of her job duties, but what those duties protected.
    Owens spent over two years following Kayla’s progress after he had the Central Intelligence Agency make her an analyst along with five other possible candidates for her Aquarius position.
    Intelligence, patience, reclusiveness, few friends, mental stability, physical toughness, no immediate family contacts, intense loyalty to the United States of America: those were a small sampling of the mandatory traits Owens looked for in his team members. The mix wasn’t common, but in a country larger than two hundred and fifty million, there were enough candidates to fill the positions. He never started the search process from scratch. Military and intelligence databases categorized individuals through a variety of means: military service, internship programs, present employees, psychological testing, background checks, even high school and college scholarship contests.
    Kayla’s birth name was Trisha Lawrence. Just over three years ago, Trisha Lawrence was a junior partner with a small New York City law firm. She had entered the intelligence community databases early in her career when the firm represented an East Coast defense contractor in a wrongful death case. The government required that all fifteen employees at the firm pass a background check before they could take the case.
    Unbeknownst to Trisha, her profile had intrigued several upper level operators over the years, but it wasn’t until Owens had the CIA offer her a lucrative package analyzing and overseeing contract negotiations between defense contractors and international clients that she took the bait.
    The CIA served as a microscope for Owens, allowing him to further analyze the candidates for his apprentice position. Kayla had never been in the military, and thus Owens considered her a soldier of different fortune. Kayla had lived her life as the legal professions’ version of a Navy Seal: a litigator. He saw her as a white-collar weapon, a valuable addition to his operation. Her beauty furthered her potency, and her beauty was the most dangerous kind: natural. Kayla didn’t own make-up because she didn’t need it; her skin was clear and her lips were full. She often brushed her long brown hair using her hand, and let it hang straight instead of primping with irons or other devices she viewed as a vain waste of time.
    As Owens’ apprentice, Trisha Lawrence was taught to live with a past consisting only of her most recent footstep. The name Kayla Kiehl, just like the name Damien Owens, was assigned like a piece of equipment. No paper trails linked them to the government of the United States, nor the Central Intelligence Agency.
    As Owens turned the Suburban onto Desert Inn Road, he fell behind a slow-moving truck and had to hit the breaks, sending Kayla’s mobile phone sliding from her lap onto the floor. She