"I readily admit it. Physical limits, mental limits, and half a dozen other kinds."
"Once everyone is set up in the safe house in Mayerling and you get Colonel Munz's family to the States, I can see no reason why you can't take forty-eight hours off. Can you?"
"I have to go see Ambassador Montvale as soon as I get to the States and I don't think I can put that off for forty-eight hours."
"There's my proof that you're exhausted and need rest. Even I can think of a way to get around that."
"How?"
"Don't let him know you're going to the States tomorrow. Tell him you're going the day after tomorrow. Better yet, the day after that."
"You mean stay here another forty-eight hours? I can't do that. I want to get Munz's family out of here as quickly as possible."
"I didn't suggest that you stay here for another forty-eight hours," Silvio said.
Castillo met his eyes.
"You are a friend, aren't you?" Castillo said after a moment.
"My advice is to go to Philadelphia and see Special Agent Schneider. From what I've seen of you two, she's the only person in the world who can get your mind off this and that's what you really have to do. Get your mind off everything about this for forty-eight hours so that when you go back to work you'll be running on all eight cylinders."
"It would be very nice to be running on all eight cylinders when I go to see Montvale. And almost suicidal not to be." He paused, then met Silvio's eyes again. "Thank you very much."
Silvio nodded and waved at the swinging door leading to his living room. [TWO] Tony Santini was standing by the large picture window of the simply but richly appointed living room of the ambassador's residence when Castillo and Silvio entered.
"Before we get into this, Charley," Santini said, evenly, "where do you want Solez to sit on Yung? You were a little vague about that."
"Where are they now?"
"He called two minutes ago. They're riding around in the park near the waterworks," Santini said, gesturing toward the river Plate.
The Buenos Aires potable-water plant was near the river not far from the Jorge Newbery airfield, five minutes or so from the ambassador's residence.
When Castillo didn't immediately reply, Santini added, "Yung's anxious to see you. And he's got another FBI agent with him."
"What's that about?" Castillo wondered aloud, then went on immediately, "Is he in a black car?"
Santini shook his head. "An embassy BMW. We don't have much of a fleet of black cars, Charley."
"Mr. Ambassador, can I bring them here?" Castillo asked.
Silvio nodded and picked up a telephone from a side table and punched a button.
"This is Ambassador Silvio," he said into the handset. "Mr. Solez and two others will be at the gate in a few minutes. Please see they are sent to my apartment."
Castillo wondered aloud: "I hope his having somebody with him doesn't mean that he's hurt worse than we've heard."
No one replied.
Santini was already on his cellular.
"Ricardo, come to the residence. You're expected," he said without any preliminaries, then broke the connection. Yung, Solez, and "Legal Attache" Julio Artigas came into Silvio's living room ten minutes later.
They made their manners to Ambassador Silvio, Santini, and Lowery, then Yung walked to Castillo.
Artigas was surprised at seeing Castillo: Jesus Christ, he's not any older than I am. And he's calling all the shots?
"You all right, Dave?" Castillo asked.
"I'm in much better shape than my Blazer, Major," Yung said. "It has at least a half dozen double-aught buckshot holes in it."
Castillo picked up on Yung's attitude.
He's not sullen.
I was afraid he would be. He didn't want to come down here and, when he did, he got shot.
I thought I would really be on his shit list.
But he's almost cheerful. Is he a little high on painkillers?
"And this is?" Castillo asked, indicating Artigas.
"Julio Artigas, Major," Artigas answered. "I'm a legal attache in Montevideo."
Castillo took the offered hand.
"And what brings you to Buenos Aires, Mr. Artigas?"
Their eyes met, causing Artigas to conclude, This is one tough, intelligent character.
"I asked him to come, Major," Yung said.
Castillo looked questioningly at him.
"Artigas has pretty well figured out what's going on, Major," Yung said.
"Figured out what that's going on?" Castillo asked.
"Colonel…" Ambassador Silvio began.
Castillo saw that Yung had picked up on the rank.
"…Mr. Artigas was taken to the estancia by the Uruguayan National Police," Silvio continued. "He's…been around…this situation practically from the beginning."
"And he was with Chief Inspector Ordonez when Ordonez took Lowery and me to the estancia," Yung said.
"And how much did you-and/or Lowery-tell him?"
"Nothing he hadn't already pretty well figured out for himself, Maj…did the ambassador call you 'Colonel'?"
"Yes, I did," Silvio said.
"Well, congratulations," Yung said. "Well deserved."
He is high, Castillo thought. There's no other explanation for that. He seems genuinely pleased.
"Thank you," Castillo said as Yung enthusiastically pumped his hand.
"What did they give you for the pain, Dave?" Castillo asked.
"Nothing. I took a couple of aspirin."
I'll be damned!
"Artigas, you're a problem I didn't expect," Castillo said. "Mr. Ambassador, may I use your secure line?"
"Of course," Silvio said. "It's in a small closet euphemistically referred to as my office." [THREE] "Sir," Castillo told Silvio, "if you'll get a secure line to the White House switchboard no one in the embassy will know I'm here."
"I'll have to go through the State Department switchboard."
"They'll switch you over."
Silvio picked up the heavily corded handset.
"This is Silvio. Would you get me a secure line to the department switchboard, please?" That took about twenty seconds and then the ambassador said, "This is Ambassador Silvio. Please get me a secure connection to the White House switchboard."
He handed off the handset to Castillo and said, "I'll leave you alone."
"Please stay," Castillo said.
Silvio nodded. "White House."
"Colonel Castillo. I need Ambassador Montvale on a secure line." "Ambassador Montvale's secure line," a familiar voice said.
"This is Colonel Castillo, Mr. Ellsworth. Put the ambassador on, please."
Ten seconds passed before Montvale came on the telephone.
"Hello, Charley," he said, cordially. "I've been hoping to hear from you. How's things going?"
"A lot has happened, Mr. Ambassador. Can I give you a quick rundown, then fill you in completely when I'm in Washington?"
"When do you think that will be, Charley?"
Castillo met Silvio's eyes.
"I hope to get out of here late in the afternoon the day after tomorrow. It may be twenty-four hours after that."
"You must be very busy."
"I've been pretty busy," Castillo said. "An attempt to kidnap my source in Budapest was made. When the kidnapping didn't go off, they tried to kill him. They wounded him twice. The next morning, they tried again, this time to assassinate him in his apartment, then burn the apartment and whatever information he might have had in it. That attempt also failed."
"He's all right, I hope?"
"He's all right. And his files are either en route to Washington or already there."
"And when am I going to get to see them?"
"As soon as they get there, if you like. But I'm afraid in the form they're in that I'm going to have to translate them. And I can't do that, obviously, until I'm in Washington."
"And that will not be for several days, right?"
"Just as soon as I can get there, Mr. Ambassador."
"Is your source safe in Budapest?"
"I brought him to Argentina with me."
"Personal jets are really nice things to have, aren't they?"
"Oh, you heard about that, did you?"
"I hear things, Charley, as you know. That one I heard from Major Miller. I had to remind him you had given me your word that I would be in the loop. He did not, however, tell me where you had gone from Budapest. I had to learn that myself."