"I think we're past the maybe stage," McCaskey said. "I was just with Mike, Aideen Marley, and David Battat. They're ready to go."
Hearing this, Herbert punched in the telephone extension of Barbara Crowe. Crowe ran Op-Center's documents department. This wasn't his operation, but he had never been one to fret over formalities. They would need counterfeit IDs, credit cards, and passports. Crowe could use photographs from their dossiers. Battat had been registered in a hospital in Azerbaijan. Marley had been involved in an assassination in Spain. The new identities would prevent their names from raising flags in any customs or airline databases.
While Herbert told Barbara what Marley and Battat would need, Hood continued the briefing.
"Apart from Beaudin and the missing priest, there is another immediate concern," Hood said. "The Vatican is sending a replacement to run the church in Maun, a bishop from D. C. He arrives tomorrow."
"Have they got resources to protect him?" McCaskey asked.
"Yes, which is what concerns me," Hood said. "He is going to be shadowed by undercover Spanish troops posing as tourists."
"How did Spain get involved?" McCaskey asked.
"They're in this because of the Madrid Accords," Herbert said as he hung up with Barbara Crowe. "That's a fairly recent alliance between the Vatican and the king of Spain. A dozen of the Spanish army's elite troops have gone over to Botswana. We tracked their flight. They're definitely on the ground and probably already on site."
"Paul, why is that a concern?" McCaskey asked.
"Because now you've got five political entities involved," Hood said. "The U. S. through the bishop. The cult. The Botswana government. The Vatican. And the Spanish."
"Ordinarily, coalitions are a good thing," Herbert said. "In this case, though, we feel that the Vatican should be walking softly, not hammering what may be a manageable crisis."
"Manageable by us," McCaskey said.
"It's worth a try," Hood said.
"What we should be doing is gathering intel to see if the priest can be rescued," Herbert said. "That should be done before anything else, including sending in a replacement."
"Would Maria be part of this intel gathering group?" McCaskey asked directly.
"Darrell, Bob and I were just discussing that," Hood said.
That was what McCaskey sensed when he entered the room. The chill between the men.
"I had called her to get me some information from the Ministry of Defense," Herbert said. "She got that. She said she wanted to do more."
"You asked her to go to Botswana," McCaskey said.
There was another long look. There was something in the intelligence chief's eyes. Something strong, as if he were braced for an assault.
"No, that isn't it," McCaskey said suddenly. "You already sent her."
"Yes," Herbert said. "She is en route."
"You recruited my wife to spy on the Brush Vipers," McCaskey said. As though saying the words would help him process them. "You sent her to track people who know Botswana better than we know D. C."
"She's not going to be alone for long," Hood said. "And she's been given very strict orders to gather data from secondary sources."
"As if my wife knows the meaning of moderation," meCaskey declared.
"Darrell, let's talk about this," Hood said.
McCaskey shook his head. He did not know what to do or what to think. But talking it out was third on his list of options. Beating the hell out of Herbert and walking out of the office were ahead of it, in that order.
"Darrell, I okayed the call to Maria," Hood said. "If she was going to get to Botswana in time for the bishop's arrival, she had to leave immediately."
'Traveling under her own name?" McCaskey said.
"No, under her married name," Herbert pointed out. "I made sure that she had already changed her passport. Maria meCaskey won't show up in any foreign databases."
"You still could have run it past me," McCaskey said. "You could have given me the courtesy of that."
"You weren't here," Herbert said.
"I have a cell phone-"
"This is not the kind of thing I wanted to tell you over a telephone, secure or not," Herbert replied. "That's how people cancel dinner reservations and dentist appointments. This needed to be face-to-face."
"Why?" McCaskey demanded. "How do you know I would have fought you on this?"
"Because you fought with Maria about it," Herbert replied. "Hell, you broke up over this a few years ago. I couldn't take the chance that you would hang up on me and call her. I didn't want her distracted or upset."
"Or have someone talking reason to her," McCaskey said.
"That was not an issue," Herbert insisted.
"Anyway, I thought this was Mike's operation," McCaskey snapped. "Mike thinks that, too. I just had breakfast with him."
"It will be," Hood said. "What Bob did was put Maria in a position where she might be able to help us. That's all."
"Look, Darrell," Herbert said. "The Spanish military group has experience in quick military strikes. They have not shown that they can conduct surveillance or work for extended periods undercover. I needed someone who can do that. Someone who was in the right hemisphere. Someone who speaks Spanish and can talk to the soldiers, if necessary."
McCaskey heard Herbert's words. They all made sense. But logic aside, he could not get past having been left out of the loop. This was his wife they were talking about sending into a potential combat situation.
Which was why Herbert did it this way, McCaskey told himself. Herbert had just said so. To avoid involving her in a debate like this. To keep the high emotions away from Maria.
Reason told him that what Herbert had done was smart and professional. There were human interests, national interests at risk. But there were still conflicting personal and professional stakes. McCaskey could not think of a previous time when he had felt like this.
McCaskey continued to regard Herbert. As he did, something else eased into the equation. Something unexpected. McCaskey found it in Herbert's gaze. Those lively Southern eyes did not reflect the same hard determination McCaskey had seen a moment before. There was something new.
There was pain.
It was then that the realization hit McCaskey. It struck him hard across the chest, almost taking his breath away.
Bob Herbert was reliving his own fears, his own trauma. Everything McCaskey was feeling, Herbert must have felt each day he and his late wife were in Beirut. Yet then as now, Herbert had put his nation first. He had done his duty, despite the cost.
The furnace inside Darrell McCaskey shut down. A minute before, he had felt completely alone. That was no longer the case.
"I don't like this," McCaskey said, his voice low. "But I will say this much. You certainly called on one of the best undercover ops in the business."
Herbert seemed to relax slightly. "That I did," he acknowledged.
McCaskey took a long breath, then looked from Herbert to Hood. "I told Mike I'd do some prep work in case his people went to Africa. I need to find out if there's anyone they might be able to hook up with over there."
"Great," Hood said. "Thanks."
McCaskey turned from Hood to Herbert, then quickly left the office. Though McCaskey's manner was calm, he was far, far from being at peace.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The door of the church living quarters did not have a lock. There was no need for one. As Father Bradbury used to say, "Lions cannot turn knobs, and human guests are always welcome."