"That's an open offer, Charley. Nonexpiring, in other words."
"Thank you," Castillo said, very seriously, and then chuckled.
"Speaking of the Civil War, sir, you remember what Lee said at Appomattox Court House? 'I would rather face a thousand deaths, but now I must go to treat with General Grant.' I would rather face a thousand deaths, but now I have to get our friend on the horn."
That made Hall chuckle and then he said, "There's a big difference, Charley. You're not going there with the intention of handing him your sword, are you?"
"No. But, on the other hand, I was never very good with a slingshot, either."
Hall laughed.
"Keep in touch, Charley."
"I will. Thank you."
Castillo tapped the telephone switch several times.
"White House."
"Will you get me Ambassador Montvale, please? And verify that the line is secure, please."
"One moment, please." Director Montvale's secure line. Truman Ellsworth speaking."
"Colonel Castillo on a secure line for Director Montvale," the White House operator said.
"I'll take it."
Like hell you will, Castillo thought. he said, "Mr. Ellsworth?"
"How are you, Colonel? We've been expecting to hear from you."
"Would you take a message to Ambassador Montvale for me?"
"Certainly."
"Please tell him that I'll be in the U.S. embassy in Budapest for the next fifteen minutes if he wants to talk to me."
"I'm not sure the ambassador will be available within that time frame, Colonel."
"That's all the time frame I have available."
"You understand, I hope, Colonel, that anything you'd like to say to the ambassador you can say to me."
"I'm calling because I understand the ambassador has a message for me."
"You're talking about the message sent to Berlin?"
"I know there was a message sent to Berlin for me, but I haven't seen it. The man who called me was unwilling to tell me what the message said, only that there was a message I could have only if I went to Berlin. I didn't have time to do that. Can you give it to me?"
"I see. Well, Colonel, the idea was that you would go to Berlin and, once you'd received the ambassador's message, get on a secure line at the embassy there."
"Okay. Well, that's moot. When I walked in the embassy here, Mr. Franklin gave me a similar message. Which is the reason I placed the call. I'll be available here if the ambassador becomes available in the next"-he paused and checked his watch-"fourteen minutes. Thank you very much, Mr. Ellsworth."
Castillo tapped the switch of the telephone several times, said, "Break it down, please," and hung up.
Castillo exhaled audibly, then took a cigar from his briefcase and very carefully unwrapped it, carefully nipped one end with a cutter, and carefully lit the other end.
He tried to blow a smoke ring but failed.
That's funny. This room is sealed, and if the air conditioner is working I can't feel it. I should have been able to blow a nice ring.
Possibly, Colonel, that is because you're just a little nervous.
David obviously managed to hit Goliath Junior just now. Probably right between the eyes. But the projectile didn't blow him away-it just bounced off, making Goliath Junior mad.
And when Goliath Junior reports what just happened to Goliath Senior, Goliath Senior is going to be even angrier.
Which is probably happening at this very moment.
Goliath Senior, like everyone else on the White House secure circuit, is never supposed to be more than ninety seconds from picking up the phone-and fifteen seconds is preferred.
It is of course possible that Goliath Senior was taking a leak. It is far more likely that he was in his office all the time. He has Ellsworth answer his phone to make the point that he is too important to answer his own phone, even when the President might be calling.
And he especially wanted to make that point to me. He was going to make me wait.
And if I hadn't hung up when I did, it's more than likely that Ellsworth-when signaled to do so, of course-would have cheerfully announced, "Well, the ambassador just walked in," and Goliath Senior would have come on the line.
Castillo took several puffs on his cigar, held the last one for a moment, then very carefully tried to blow a smoke ring.
This time it worked.
He watched it until it bounced off the wall and disintegrated.
Fuck it! One of two things is going to happen. Goliath Senior is going to call back. Or he isn't.
If he does call back, let him wait for me.
He stood up, put the cigar in his mouth, opened the door, and left the room.
"Why don't we go have a look at your arsenal, Mr. Franklin?" Castillo said.
Franklin obviously didn't like the suggestion very much, but he nodded and said, "It's one floor down. Are you through here?"
"I don't know."
"Colonel, smoking is forbidden in the embassy," the second man said.
Colonel? How did you know that?
What did they do, put my conversation on speakers while they were eavesdropping?
"Is it?" Castillo replied and took another puff.
He looked at Franklin, who hesitated a moment and then said, "This way, Mr. Castillo."
"Why don't you wait here with this gentleman," Castillo said to Otto Gorner, in English. "I'll come back and fetch you."
Gorner nodded. The weapons locker was a gray metal two-door cabinet in a small narrow room that also held rows of gray filing cabinets, each of them securely locked with steel bars and padlocks. Castillo idly wondered how much of the obviously classified material they held would be of real intelligence value.
Franklin took the padlock from the door and swung the double doors open for Castillo.
There wasn't much in it, and most of what was there were ordinary American weapons, ranging from M-16 rifles to an assortment of handguns, both revolvers and semiautomatics. There were some odd pistols, including two Russian Makarovs and four German Walther PPs.
Castillo was familiar with both of the Makarov semiautomatics and liked neither. The Russians had basically copied the Walther when they had replaced their Tokarev pistol. The basic difference was a larger trigger guard on the Makarov to accommodate a heavily gloved trigger finger.
The Walthers fired a 9mm Kurz cartridge, virtually unchanged since Colt had introduced it as the.380 ACP cartridge for their sort of scaled-down version of the Colt 1911.45 ACP. The cartridge had never been successful in the United States but had enjoyed wide popularity in Europe.
The reason it had not been very successful was the reason Castillo disliked it. It didn't have anywhere near the knockdown power of the.45 ACP.
There were a half dozen cardboard cartons on the floor of the locker, one long rather thin one and two larger thick ones. Castillo picked up the long thin one and one of the thick ones and laid them atop one of the filing cabinets. He opened the long thin one first.
It held what looked like a target pistol, and, indeed, that's what it had been before Special Forces armorers had worked their magic on it years before. Their version of the target pistol, chambered for the.22 Long Rifle round, was now known as the Ruger Mk II Suppressed.
"Just what the doctor ordered," he said.
Franklin did not seem to share Castillo's enthusiasm.
There really is no such thing as a "silenced" weapon for a number of reasons, heavy among them the fact that almost all bullets exit the barrel at greater than the speed of sound and it is impossible to silence the noise they make when they do. There are "suppressed" weapons, the best of which make no more sound than a BB gun. Of these, Castillo thought the Ruger Mk II to be among the very best.
The one before him looked brand-new, and it looked as if it was a "manufactured" weapon rather than one modified by the weapons wizards at Bragg.
Castillo examined the weapon carefully and liked what he found.
"I'll take this," he announced.
"Colonel…"
There goes "Colonel" again. The sonofabitch did listen.