"That presumes I will."
"Rephrase: After you have your best shot at it. The first thing a wise spook has to admit is that failure is the norm. You seem to have learned that, so maybe there is some hope for you in this business." [THREE] The Residence of the Ambassador of the United States of America 1104 La Rambla Carrasco, Republica Oriental del Uruguay 0805 5 August 2005 As the Honorable Michael A. McGrory, still in his bathrobe, was sipping at a cup of coffee while looking some what glumly out his dining-room window at what looked like a drizzle that would last all day, Theodore J. Detweiller, Jr., his chief of mission, telephoned.
"I'm sorry to bother you at home, Mr. Ambassador, but I thought I should bring this to your attention immediately."
"What's up, Ted?" McGrory responded.
There were two ways to look at a chief of mission who would not take any action without being absolutely sure it was what the ambassador wanted.
On one hand, Ambassador McGrory thought it was a good thing. He didn't have to spend much time or effort rescinding Detweiller's bad decisions and repairing the collateral damage they may have caused because Detweiller rarely-almost never-made any decisions on his own.
On the other, having a de facto deputy ambassador who would not blow his nose until he found in the Standing Operating Procedure when and under what circumstances doing so was specifically authorized or, failing that, until he had asked permission of the ambassador to do so was often a pain in the you-know-where.
Detweiller, too, often considered things that could well wait until the next day-or the next week-important enough to bring them to the ambassador's immediate attention, even if that meant disturbing the ambassador's breakfast, lunch, or golf game.
"I just now had a telephone call from Deputy Foreign Minister Alvarez, Mr. Ambassador."
"At your home, presumably?"
"Yes, sir. At my home."
"And what did Deputy Foreign Minister Alvarez want?"
"He asked if I was going to be in the office about nine," Detweiller reported, "and, if so, if I would be kind enough to offer him a cup of coffee."
McGrory stopped himself just in time from saying, "Well, give him one, Ted. And offer my best regards."
Instead, he asked: "He didn't say what he wanted, huh?"
"No, sir. He didn't. And I thought the call to my home, at this hour…"
"A bit unusual, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir, I thought so."
"You did tell Deputy Foreign Minister Alvarez that you'd give him a cup of coffee, Ted, didn't you?"
"Yes, sir, I did. Mr. Ambassador, may I give you my gut feeling?"
"Of course."
"I have the feeling, sir, that this is not a social call, but that Alvarez wants to keep it unofficial, if you take my meaning."
"I see. And why would he want to do that?"
"I haven't a clue, but that's my gut feeling and I thought I should mention it."
"And you should have. And just as soon as you find out what he wanted, if anything, besides a cup of coffee, let me know."
"Yes, sir, of course."
"Anything else, Ted?"
"No. That's it. Again, sorry to have to disturb you at home, Mr. Ambassador."
"Not at all, Ted," Ambassador McGrory said and hung up.
The ambassador picked up his coffee cup, took a sip, and found that it was tepid.
"Goddamn it," he exclaimed, then returned the cup to the table with a bang and walked briskly out of the dining room and to his bedroom to get dressed. Since he really wanted a cup of fresh hot coffee when he got to his office, McGrory was not surprised to find that Senora Susanna Obregon, his secretary, had not yet prepared any.
He did not remonstrate with her. It would be a waste of his time. She would have some excuse, ranging from she liked to time the preparation of it so that it would be fresh and hot when he got to the office (and today he was almost an hour early) to the fact that her second cousin's wife had just given birth to quadruplets.
He went into his office and sat at his desk. There was only one sheet of paper in his in-box, which meant that for a change there had not been radioed overnight at least a dozen friendly suggestions from the under secretary of state on how he could better do his job.
Having nothing else to do until his coffee arrived, he reached for the message in the in-box, slumped back in his chair, and began to read it.
SECRET
CONFIRMING TELECON BETWEEN ASSTSECTLATAM AND THEODORE J. DETWEILLER, JR., C/M USEMB MONTEVIDEO 1705 4 AUGUST 2005 MR. DAVID W. YUNG, JR., A SPECIAL AGENT OF THE FBI ON THE PERSONAL STAFF OF SECSTATE, IS CURRENTLY EN ROUTE TO MONTEVIDEO AND SHOULD ARRIVE THERE AFTERNOON 5 AUGUST 2005. SECSTATE COHEN HAS DIRECTED AND AUTHORIZED Mr. YUNG TO ASSUME AND DISCHARGE ALL CONSULAR DUTIES RELATING TO THE LATE DR. JEAN-PAUL LORIMER INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO REPATRIATION OF THE REMAINS AND THE PROTECTION OF ASSETS. SECSTATE FURTHER DIRECTS USEMB MONTEVIDEO TO PROVIDE Mr. YUNG WITH WHATEVER ASSISTANCE HE REQUIRES, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO TURNING OVER TO HIM ANY AND ALL USEMB RECORDS AND FILES CONCERNING Mr. LORIMER AND ANY AND ALL MATERIAL REGARDING JEAN-PAUL BERTRAND WHOSE IDENTITY Mr. LORIMER HAD APPARENTLY ASSUMED. THIS SPECIFICALLY INCLUDES ALL INFORMATION REGARDING THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF Mr. LORIMER'S DEATH KNOWN TO EMB AND/OR OBTAINED FROM URUGUAYAN GOVERNMENT SOURCES. SECSTATE AUTHORIZES AND DIRECTS Mr. YUNG TO, AT HIS DISCRETION, SHIP ALL SUCH MATERIALS VIA DIPLOMATIC POUCH TO STATE DEPT, PERSONAL ATTENTION SECSTATE, OR TO MAKE SUCH OTHER ARRANGEMENTS FOR THEIR SHIPMENT TO SECSTATE AS HE DESIRES.
BARBARA L. QUIGLETTE
The sonofabitch interrupts my breakfast to tell me the deputy foreign minister wants to talk to him unofficially and didn't mention this?
Goddamn him! He should have called me the moment he got off the phone from talking to the under secretary! Last night!
McGrory pushed himself out of his high-backed, blue-leather-upholstered chair and walked quickly to his office door, still holding the radio teletype printout.
"Susanna," he ordered, "I want to see, right now, in this order, and separately-in other words, one at a time-Mr. Detweiller, Mr. Monahan, and Mr. Howell."
"Yes, sir," Senora Obregon replied. Three minutes later Senora Obregon reported that neither Mr. Detweiller nor Mr. Howell had yet come in but that Mr. Monahan was on his way to the ambassador's office and asked if she should send him in or make him wait until he'd seen the others.
"Send him in, please," McGrory ordered.
Monahan appeared at the office door moments later.
"You wanted to see me, Mr. Ambassador?"
McGrory waved him into the office but not into one of the chairs in front of his desk.
"I'm a little curious, Monahan, why you did not elect to tell me Yung is on the personal staff of the secretary of state," McGrory said.
"Excuse me?"
"You are the special agent in charge, are you not? And you were aware, were you not, of Yung's status?"
"That's two questions, Mr. Ambassador."
"Answer them one at a time."
"I'm the senior FBI agent here, Mr. Ambassador, but not the SAC."
"What's the others?"
"A SAC is in charge of the special agents," Monahan replied and then clarified: "It stands for Special Agent in Charge."
"And you're not?"
"No, sir. I'm the senior agent. I've been with the bureau longest. But I was never appointed the SAC."
"You're telling me you're not in charge of the other FBI agents? Is that what you're saying?"
"Yes, sir. I'm sort of in charge, because, like I say, I'm the senior agent. But not really, if you take my meaning."