Glass Curtain,
By Thaddeus Hutyra

Chapter 11 - SESSION AT CIA HEADQUATERS  || All Chapters

They were all seated on the twenty fifth floor of the CIA Federal Building ,situated next to Pensylvania Avenue,in Washington. The view of the capital from so high seemed to be fascinating.In this town like in no other American town,one could smell history at every corner of its streets.Magnificient especially looked the White House with its fountain,the buildings of Congress on Capital Hill and the monument of Lincoln,one of the fathers of America,the nation.
-�I welcome you all here with pleasure.�- David Harrows,the general CIA chief said.
He paused for a moment and looked into the eyes of every participant of this international rather meeting: Carl Lewis,who was responsible for the Washington area and partially for the spies affairs abroad,Harrold Montgomerry,the chief of CIA in California,Jack Foster,the boss in New York,Jonathan Fergusson,FBI chief,Peter Debews,who was equipped to deal with the President�s team on behalf of the agency and several outsiders from within the western world,two Australians among them,Ross Dowby and Edwin Drisch, and finally into the eyes of Patrick Waltersh,the boss of MI6 in London.
-�I have invited you here because we have to take a number of decisions.�- David Harrows decided to continue.-�Firstly, I must share with you my observations on what the Soviets do. Their KGB agents are unusually active.Strangely,not only within the first world,but also in remote places,as far even as Burma. We have recently got news from our informant,Khon Hun Sat, in Burma that a number of Russian KGB agents were killed within the so-called Tandbodhay Temple in Monywa,nearby Mandalay. One of the killed was Sergiej Chatunov.We have already tried to catch him for some time. You will not believe me when I tell you now who killed him and the other KGB agents. Are you ready? Well,the killer or rather killers are: Steven Mac Dantosch,the murderer whom Interpol tries to get-as you know he is the son of Joseph Burrows,the worldwide business magnat from Australia- and Tadek Vangard,the Polishman whom we have already tried to reach a number of times,because as you know he has the so-called strategy Beehive,which can humilate the Soviets internationally if we get the strategy into our hands.I know from our informant that they are actually in Bangladesh. We will have to begin with new ,fresh efforts of finding them and getting them into our hands. One of them,surely,will have to end up on the electrical chair�The other one will have to cooperate with us,if he does not want to find himself in jail�We have to have the strategy Beehive.I feel strongly there is something of an uppermost importance in it. The Soviets woudn�t be so active,feverishly active,I would say,if the strategy wouldn�t be so important��
Jack Foster exchanged his glances with Patrick Waltersh.He imagined his own face as white as shit of paper once and red as the stop lights of the faraway traffic beneath the other time.He was happy of one thing only at the moment,of the fact he managed to come for this meeting in time,on a plane over Atlantic and with a sleepless night.
He already stopped listening to David Harrows,the first among them, in the CIA establishment.He would not like to be in his skin if the silver haired David Harrows would discover that he was in fact a double agent.This would certainly be all-American shock.How many times in his New York office did he think whether it is right what he does�Certainly it was not right. However,he was an Irish at heart.He hated America for doing nothing for the beloved Northern Ireland where his parents were born.He wanted Northern Ireland to be united with Ireland.And America did nothing in this aspect.Just because of it he hated this country,despite that it was his country. It was his secret. When seated alone in his monumental office in New York,he often looked at the breathtaking panorama of the City with its very many superstructures,the skydrapers,including the Empire State Building,majestic World Trade Center towers,Rockefeller Center�Nothing but greediness�
In his mind the worldwide nature was raped by the human activities.He looked then at the far away Atlantic and saw it as a real Tytan,as one capable of turning this country into an endless waterworld...May only Antarktica melts down...He wanted to open the window and shout:�What do you do,madmen?! Don�t you see that if you destroy the nature,if the fillars of this planet will be cut off, everything will tumble down!! Don�t you see it?!�
-�Hej,Jack,what happens with you? You do not seem to listen to us?��- He heard suddenly.He realised everybody looked at him.He became mixed.
-�Sorry,I had a sleepless night�Don�t bother,however.�- He said,but he knew he already caused some damage to his reputation.
When the meeting was over David Harrows called him to himself.
-�You looked strange today,Jack.�- He said.-�Is this from overwork?�
Jack Foster realised fast what a danger hang in the air.He could in no way let anyone into his New York office.If it happened some evidence against him could be found.
He began to play an actor.He was always good in this.At least so far.He just laughed.
-�Oh,David,if I were overworked as you suggest I would certainly had as silver-white hair on my head as you do have.�- He said.
Both began to laugh. They said goodbye to each other,the way as only best friends do it,friends who served their only country,the United States of America...