The CIA man waved Castillo into the room and, when Castillo had sat down, picked up the telephone with the heavy cord.
"This is Franklin," he said. "I am about to hand the phone to Mr. Castillo, who has been cleared to call anywhere."
He handed the telephone to Castillo.
"Thank you," Castillo said. "Please close the door."
"Certainly."
And don't let the doorknob hit you in the ass.
If I were this guy, I would now go into the commo room, which is certainly behind one of those other doors, put on a set of earphones, turn on a recorder, and listen to what this Castillo character is going to talk to Montvale about.
Fuck him. Let him listen. The only thing he's going to learn from this conversation is that I don't work for Ambassador Charles W. Montvale.
Castillo waited fifteen seconds and then put the handset to his ear.
"You on there, Franklin?" he asked, conversationally.
There was no reply. Castillo hadn't expected one.
But he was doing more than giving Franklin a hard time. If Franklin was listening and recording the conversation-and the more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that Franklin would be-he was almost certainly using one of the recorders in the commo room. Castillo was familiar with most of the recorders used. They shared one characteristic. The recordings were date and time-stamped, down to one-tenth of a second. That data could not be changed or deleted.
Franklin, therefore, could not pretend if he played the recording for someone-or, more likely, sent it to Langley, or, even more likely, to Montvale himself-that he had not been asked if he was listening. The embassy was U.S. soil; therefore, the laws of the United States applied. Without a wiretap authorization issued by a federal judge, it is a felonious violation of the United States Code to record a conversation unless one of the parties to the conversation is aware that the conversation is being recorded.
He could of course make a written transcript of the conversation, leaving out the "You on there, Franklin?" That not only would look odd but he would be asked, "What happened to the recording itself?"
"If you are on there, Franklin," Castillo said, still conversationally, "you should not be. You are advised that this communication is classified Top Secret Presidential and you do not have that clearance."
"Sir?" a male voice came on the line.
Castillo knew it had to be whoever was in charge of the communications room.
"My name is C. G. Castillo. Get me the White House switchboard on a secure line, please."
"One moment, sir." "White House."
"This is the U.S. embassy, Budapest," the male voice said. "Please confirm we are on a secure line."
"Confirm line is secure."
"Go ahead, Mr. Castillo," the communications room man said.
"C. G. Castillo. Can you patch me through to Ambassador Montvale, please?"
"Colonel, Secretary Hall wishes to speak with you."
Colonel? Boy, that news got around quick, didn't it?
"Secretary Hall first, please. On a secure line, please."
"One moment, sir." "Secretary Hall's secure line. Isaacson."
"Hey, Joel. Charley. Is the boss around?"
"Oh, he is indeed, Colonel," Isaacson said. "Hold on."
Charley faintly heard "Charley for you, boss," then Hall's reply, also faint, "Finally."
And then the Honorable Matthew Hall, secretary of the Department of Homeland Security, came clearly on the line.
"Hello, Charley. Where are you?"
"Budapest, sir."
"You didn't go to Berlin, I gather?"
He knows about that?
"No, sir."
"Why not?"
Oh, I don't want to answer that.
How the hell can I say "Because I didn't want Montvale ordering me around" without sounding as if I am very impressed with myself?
Hall, sensing Castillo's hesitation, added: "I understand you had a couple of sips at the Army-Navy Club to celebrate your promotion."
Obviously, Naylor told Hall about that.
Thank God!
"Yes, sir, I did."
"He's been on the phone several times…"
He who? Naylor or Montvale?
"…the first time to tell me the two of you had come to an understanding…"
Okay, he means Montvale.
"…and that you were going to keep him in your loop. The last several calls, he wondered where you were, since you told somebody you wouldn't be going to Berlin."
"I think by now he knows where I am, sir."
"You've spoken to him?"
"I used an air taxi with which he has a connection."
There was a pause. After a moment, Hall said, "Okay. I get it. And the last several times, he's been very interested in explosive briefcases. Asked me if I had heard about them. I told him I hadn't."
"There's nothing to tell, sir."
"Later, Joel told me Tom McGuire had told him about it. I understand. But our mutual friend seemed very surprised that you hadn't passed this information on to him or me."
"Dick Miller told him about the briefcases. I told him to tell him."
Why are we talking in verbal code on a secure line?
Because Hall thinks it's entirely possible that "our mutual friend" has told the friendly NSA folks at Fort Meade that it might be a good idea to scan Hall's calls for names like "Montvale." And he could easily do that. The National Security Agency works for him. No problem, either, with decrypting a White House secure line. NSA provides the encryption code to the White House.
"Dick told me. Just consider that a heads-up, Charley."
"Yes, sir. I will."
"What are you doing in Budapest?"
"I'm trying to get a source to relieve me from a promise that I wouldn't pass a list of names he gave me to anyone else," Castillo said. "I'm going to tell our mutual friend that when I talk to him. Which I will do as soon as we're finished."
"And where do you go from Budapest?"
"Sir, do you really want to know?"
Hall perceptibly thought that over before replying: "No, I don't. You don't work for me anymore. There's no reason you should tell me. But, Charley, I suspect our mutual friend is going to ask you the same question."
"I don't work for our mutual friend, either, sir."
There was another pause before Hall responded: "Charley, can you handle your arrangement with our mutual friend?"
"I really hope so, sir."
"Another of our mutual friends, an old friend of yours…"
That has to be General Naylor.
"…doesn't think so. The way he put it was he always thought David got awful lucky with that slingshot."
What the hell does that mean?
Oh! David, as in David and Goliath.
"Sir, I'm not going to try to bring Goliath down. All I want him to do is leave me alone."
"That was Jefferson Davis's philosophy in the Civil War. He didn't want to defeat the North. All he wanted was for the North to leave the South alone. You know how that turned out."
"Yes, sir."
"There's one more option, Charley," Hall said.
"Prayer?"
Hall chuckled, then said, "I'll have a word with the President, get him to get him off your back."
When Castillo didn't immediately reply, Hall added: "That's my idea, Charley. Not our friend's."
After a long moment, Castillo said, "Why don't we wait and see how it goes?"
Hall didn't respond directly. Instead, he said, "His tactic is going to be damning you by faint praise. He's already started. 'You're a fine young man but inexperienced. You need a wise, guiding hand on your shoulder, to keep you from doing something impulsive and unwise.' He's going to keep repeating that-or something like it-until one day you're going to do something impulsive and unwise. And then the President will tell you something like, 'Before you do something like that again, you'd better check that with Mon…our friend.' And that will put you in our friend's pocket."
"When I worked for you, I had one," Castillo replied. "A wise hand on my shoulder."
"That's not true but thank you."
"I guess I'm going to have to be careful not to act unwisely on an impulse."