Free Support and Defend by Tom Clancy, Mark Greaney Page B

flotilla massacre.”
    Banfield blinked hard, a show of surprise. Ross stared into his eyes, searching for clues that he knew this already.
    “Oh,” the old man said softly. His shock seemed genuine to Ross. “I see what this is all about. Even so, we don’t know that—”
    “We do know. I’m telling you, the FBI was waiting for us all this morning when we got to work. They are saying they know about the unauthorized download of the flotilla files. They say the dead Israeli in India, Colonel Yacoby, was mentioned in the files, as well as the fact he was living in that little village.” He stopped pacing and leaned down over Banfield. “He was referred to by name in the CIA docs!”
    “I don’t remember that. There were a lot of pages in those files.”
    “I don’t remember, either, but the G’s seem fucking certain!”
    Banfield himself stood now, and he looked off over the trees. “When did you deliver the files to me? It had to have been three months ago.”
    “It was four.”
    “And only now do they reveal the breach was detected? Why is that?”
    Ross answered in a whispering shout. “Because somebody got fucking killed! When I gave you that data you swore to me anything that could put lives in danger would be redacted, and the only people who would get the intel would be the media. You said you’d give them to an ITP-affiliated reporter at The Guardian , and he would reveal the fact the U.S. gave covert help to the Israelis in the attack on the flotilla. It was supposed to embarrass the White House, maybe nudge us away from covert ties with Israel. Maybe pro-Israeli hawks in the administration would get fired. And the next time some shit like this went down in Israel, Washington would be less eager to spy on behalf of a criminal regime.”
    Ross pulled off his soaking knit cap and ran his hands through his sticky wet blond hair, then said, “Nobody said a goddamned thing about terrorists blowing up a family of four.”
    Banfield positioned himself in front of Ross, blocking his ability to pace. He held his umbrella high enough for the taller man to fit under it, but Ethan did not come that close. Banfield said, “Listen to me carefully. The files you passed to me did not go to anyone in Palestine.”
    “Where did they go?”
    “We still have them.”
    “Why haven’t you given them to The Guardian ?”
    “Remember what I told you when you gave me the information? If we released it so close on the heels of the breach, it could put you in danger.” Banfield squeezed Ross on the shoulder. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. My organization has refined the art of whistleblower attribution masking. You are safe.”
    Ross sat back on the bench slowly. He wanted to believe, but wasn’t sure.
    “I’d feel better if you told me the ITP doesn’t have contacts in Palestine.”
    “Of course we have contacts in Palestine. We have contacts all over. But we didn’t pass this on to anyone. We would never be a party to such a brutal act. Our partners in Palestine are as far removed from the personality types that committed this crime as you and I are from the thugs who run around D.C. knifing people for their wallets. Remember, the Palestinian people have the same range of personality types as the rest of the world. There are bad apples out there. We just aren’t working with them.”
    Banfield sat down next to Ross, and the rainfall blew in from the river onto their faces. The umbrella served no purpose, but Banfield held it anyway.
    “You’ve done nothing wrong, Ethan, and you are one hundred percent in the clear. This thing in India was unrelated to the whistleblowing you did four months ago, I’m sure of it.”
    “Well, the FBI is not sure of it. They are conducting polygraphs later in the week.”
    Banfield did not show any surprise. “That’s to be expected. It’s just a fishing expedition.”
    “Perhaps, but they will be thorough.”
    “You’ve never had any problems with