Ben, absorbed in his work, waves a hand without looking away from his computer. "I'm fine, thanks."
Ben, absorbed in his work, waves a hand without looking away from his computer. "I'm fine, thanks."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
While Ben's mind wanders, focused on what should be done about the Zadeja situation, Matt's offer of refreshments seems poised to turn him into the Big Hero. Before he goes he gives Jessica some printouts and a summation of what he's been doing--he's helped collate a swath of death records, since those sometimes see use in the creation of new identities. Jessica makes them into their own little pile, giving them a quick look to see if anything stands out, but right now it's just burying the needle under more hay.
She switches attention to applications for business visas and work permits, just to give her eyes a break by looking at something new. Some of the applications are just a couple of pages long, basic applications for work permits for someone looking to transfer to America. Some of the apps, though, come from foreign investors or businessmen looking to open businesses Stateside, and these come in large packets—dozens of pages (even hundreds), comprising tax documents, contracts; some of it in English, some of it in Albanian, some of it in Russian, and all of it in the ever-confusing Legalese.
There’s a surprising amount of these: at least a few dozen of varying size. Here’s a man who wants to open Balkan restaurants in Florida. An energy subsidiary wants some sort of oil clean-up station in Mississippi. Some investors have a plan for a mosque/community center to reach out to Caucasus Muslims in New York state.
Ben finally decides that the DHS files should be exhausted before he goes chasing after shadows. Now that he knows exactly what to look for, he might catch something he missed before.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Jessica scratches her head. These were big documents. Sigh. But Jessica was happy that there finally was some sort of match between everything.
While she thinks harder she mumbles softly to herself. 'Possible new identities ... some investors coming this way ... still that confusing shit .... '
3 suxx
They were making a slow progress, but they were making it. And maybe, they had a clear clue at the end of the day.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
As first days went, this one was Tedious with a capital Boring. Donnelly was beginning to regret this transfer--was this what life in GSD was going to be like? The DEA could be “Never a dull moment,” and that could certainly be a curse in a way; but if this was any indication the GSD would be nothing but dull moments. Matt Lucas seemed to have the right idea: his quest for refreshments had gotten him far away from paper pushing.
Donnelly went back and forth through the papers in front of him but so far it looked as though lightning would not strike twice. The closest thing to “interesting” that he found was a man named Tonin Alia. Alia himself was boring. But the last four digits of his State Identification Number matched Donnelly’s ATM PIN.
Forget coffee. Donnelly could use a beer.
Jessica’s thinking was along the same lines. If this was what her career had come to then maybe she needed to go back to school. Her brother would forgive her, right? Her father--whereever he was--he would forgive his little girl, wouldn’t he?
One of her business applicants was local—well, local-ish, anyways: Iskender Fehriu wanted a business visa to come back to the States to look in on his halal grocery store in San Diego. Well that seemed a little strange. More than a little. Why would someone set up a grocery store seven thousand miles away from home? She turns to the terminal and begins to look up Mr. Fehriu in some more detail…
After another hour of going through the same files, Donnelly takes the pile over to Jessica’s desk to swap out with something else. He sees the printout Matt placed on her desk. Half from curiosity, half from a desire to kill time, he picks up the packet and looks it over. Looks like a rundown from the obituary records, with names and ID numbers and dates of birth and death. As a handout it’s fairly useless, too cumbersome to really go over in depth; it’d be better as a searchable spreadsheet but that would just eat up too much time to set up.
He flips through the list of dead and sees nothing of interest. The closest thing to “interesting” that he found was a man named Tonin Alia. Alia himself was boring. But the last four digits of his State Identification Number matched Donnelly’s ATM PIN.
Wait, what?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Matt walks in through the door, with coffee and bagels, his and Jessica Warren's. Ben is standing over her desk looking at two peices of paper, swivelling his back and forth in disbelief. He walks over to Jessica's desk delivering her order. "The place next door is to die for, I've never felt so at home." He walks over to Ben and saw that he was looking at one of the applications, and a print out of a death certificate. "Mr. Donnelly, you look like you've just seen a ghost."
Ben looks up at Matt. "No, but I might have found one," he says, and hurries back to his workstation.
He's seen people assume the identities of dead people before, and it's always been an indicator of criminal activity. Generally speaking, it's a mistake caused by inexperience. Real, dead people always have too long of a paper trail; the death certificate is only part of it. There are relatives, locked up bank accounts, obituaries...the list goes on.
Now, Tonin Alia's paper trail has a whole new section, and all Ben needs to do is connect it with the old one.
Roll
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
It’s a hell of a lot easier to dive in when one has a clear goal. Ben starts going through the files a bit closer, looking for anything he can get on Alia—or whoever it is pretending to be him. Once he’s had a chance to really examine things he can see that the Alia deception is both incredibly easy to miss if you aren’t looking for it, and horrendously blatant at the same time.
Once, Albania was a Communist nation; now, it seeks admission to the EU. Although its recent history has been turbulent, the country is trying hard to make a good impression on the world scene. But despite the advances Albania has made, when one looks beneath the spit-shined surface it isn’t hard to see the rot that is just barely hidden. Try as he might, Ben has a hard time finding the sort of bureaucratic infrastructure he’d expect a modern nation to have available. Oh, sure, they seem to have had their act together for the last decade—everything seems up to date and above-board. But for large patches of the 80s and 90s, swathes of data are missing: either lost or stolen (or “misappropriated,” as a politician might say), or maybe never even gathered in the first place. Whoever was creating papers for “Alia” must have have decided that brazenly flauting this breakdown was the best way to go.
Too bad he didn’t account for PIN codes.
In grabbing information on Alia Ben managed to pull up a copy of the man’s Albanian passport, and finds a happy surprise: Albania requires its passports to be “smart,” and they have a chip filled with biometric data—including a photo and digitized fingerprints. Ben copies the prints, opens up the Interpol database with his temp access, and starts a search.
Continuing investigation
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Matt having returned from his errand heads back to his desk get some more work done. Matt tries to think, If I was trying to get into the country and I couldn't go through proper channels, what would I do? I would of course try to get a new I.D. either through the blackmarket, or government furnished. But, Albania is a communist country, and commies like to keep tabs on all of their people especially foreign agents to prevent mass defections. From my history courses in college I remember that Russia and korea and Cuba never let foreign diplomats travel with their families. Matt feels that at least he'd be able to reduce the possiblity of a government sanctioned operation by checking the single guys. That still leaves the possibility of infiltraion by spies acting as a couple, but for those who are married the real ones are likely to have children. He brought the files on his desk and sorted them out as married or single. Then from the married pile he eliminated the one w/ kids. Most, couples don't have the guts to defect or try to leave until they have kids to protect.
Singles RollMarried w/o kids Roll
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Jessica was happy that the first day of the investigation seemed to go smoothly. They had all worked well on the teamwork, and now they had something to pin their personal investigation on.
So mister... ehm... Fehriu? A halal grocery store, for god's sake, or Allah's sake perhaps. That, in the united states is something to look at anyway.
Very happy with the things Matt brought, she continues her work.
2 suxx
Draft this Post
