"Grunblatt, Mr. Ambassador. Mizz Sylvia Grunblatt." "Miss Grunblatt, the President has sent Mr. Ellsworth and me down here to have a word with Lieutenant Colonel C. G. Castillo. Do you know who I mean?"
"Yes, I do, Mr. Montvale."
"Do you happen to know where I can find him?"
"I'm afraid not," Grunblatt said. "There's been a journalist-a good one, Roscoe J. Danton, of The Washington Times-Post-down here looking for him, too. What's that all about?"
"You said has been? May I infer that Mr. Danton is no longer here?"
"The last I heard, he was in the Marriott Plaza."
"What about Alexander Darby, Miss Grunblatt?"
"If you don't mind, Mr. Montvale, I prefer 'Ms.'"
After a perceptible pause, the director of National Intelligence said, "Excuse me, Mizz Grunblatt."
"What did you mean, Mr. Montvale, when you asked, 'What about Alexander Darby?' I assume you know he resigned."
"I don't suppose it would surprise an experienced foreign service officer such as yourself, Mizz Grunblatt, if I told you Mr. Darby had duties beyond those of commercial attache?"
"If you're asking did I know that Alex was a spook, yes, I did. I've known that he was in the agency's Clandestine Service since we served in Rome, and that's… oh, twenty years ago."
"And do you know where he is now, by any chance, Mizz Grunblatt?"
"Haven't a clue. The last time I saw him was at Ezeiza. The airport."
"He was going where, do you know?"
"What he did, Mr. Montvale, was go through the departing Argentina immigration procedure on his diplomatic passport, and then he turned right around and came back, so to speak, into Argentina on his regular passport. He then gave me-as an embassy officer-his diplomatic passport and carnet. Then I drove him here to the embassy, where he got out of my car, and got in a taxi."
"Then he's still in Argentina. Would you know where?"
"I didn't say that he's still here. I don't know if he is or not. I know his wife and children aren't here any longer; I put them on a plane to the States."
"But not Mr. Darby?"
"No. Not Mr. Darby. I don't know where Alex is."
"Do you happen to know where Mrs. Darby was going?"
"I do. And I'll give you the address once you tell me you're acting in an official capacity."
"I've already done that."
"That's right, you have," Grunblatt said.
She picked up a pen and wrote an address on a piece of notepaper and handed it to him.
Montvale glanced at it, saw that it meant nothing to him, then handed it to one of his Secret Service men.
"Hang on to that."
"Yes, sir."
The Secret Service agent looked at it, and then said, "Mr. Ambassador, I know what this is, this 7200 West Boulevard Drive. It's the Alexandria house Colonel Castillo and the others had. I drew the duty there a couple of times when it was under Secret Service protection."
"Mizz Grunblatt, I'm going to have to get on a secure line to the Secret Service in Washington."
Grunblatt considered that a moment, then said, "Yes, I can arrange that for you. I presume you'd prefer to talk from a secure location?"
You're damned right I would.
There's absolutely no reason for you to hear what I'm going to say.
"Could that be arranged?"
"It'll take me a minute or two to set it up," she said. "You'll have to go to the commo room."
"I understand. Thank you very much."
"Not a problem," Grunblatt said as she pushed herself out of her chair.
"And while I'm on the phone, Mizz Grunblatt, do you suppose you could rustle up another car for me? All we have is a Yukon, and we're stuffed into it like sardines."
"The call I can do. The car I can't. All of our vehicles are out of town with the ambassador. Tomorrow afternoon, if he returns as scheduled, it should be no problem at all."
Is that Cuban sonofabitch capable of that? Taking all the cars with him, so that I have to ride around town like a fish in a can? "Secret Service, Claudeen."
"This is the State Department switchboard. I have Ambassador Montvale on a secure line for the senior agent on duty."
"Hold one, please, for Supervisory Special Agent McGuire."
"It will be a moment, Ambassador Montvale."
"Not a problem."
Montvale knew Supervisory Special Agent Thomas McGuire. He had once been in charge of the presidential protection detail.
A good man.
More important, he knows who I am.
"McGuire."
"Tom, this is Charles M. Montvale."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Ambassador. How are you, sir?"
"Much better now that I've got you on the phone, Tom. I need someone with a grasp of the situation."
"What situation is that, sir?"
"There are two facets of it, Tom. I'm sure you know what happened to the Office of Organizational Analysis?"
"That's not much of a secret, sir."
"And you've heard, I'm sure, about what's been going on in the last few days at Fort Detrick?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, I'm in Buenos Aires. The President sent Mr. Ellsworth and me down here to locate Colonel Castillo to make sure he understands that he is not to go anywhere near that problem. I am to personally relay that presidential order to Castillo, once I find him."
"Castillo's in Argentina, sir?"
"I don't know where he is. But I've come across a lead. One of the members of the now-disbanded OOA was an agency officer named Alexander W. Darby. He retired when Castillo got the boot. Now, I can't find him. But I have reason to believe his wife… Got a pencil…?"
"Yes, sir."
"… is in a house at seventy-two hundred West Boulevard Drive in Alexandria."
"Isn't that the place we used to protect?"
"Yes, it is. That's what I meant by your having a grasp of the situation. Now, what I want you to do is send a couple of your best men out there-better yet, go yourself-and see if Darby is there, and if he's not, ask his wife if she knows where he is. I'm sure Darby knows where Castillo is."
"Have you got a first name on the wife, sir?"
Call her "Mrs. Darby," you Irish moron!
"No, I'm afraid not."
"Well, then I'll just call her Mrs. Darby."
"That'll work. Now, Tom, there is a possibility that she might deny he is there, and another possibility, slight but real, that Castillo himself might be there, and even a remote possibility that two Russians we're looking for-former SVR Colonel Dmitri Berezovsky and former SVR Lieutenant Colonel Svetlana Alekseeva-may also be in that house. Castillo is just arrogant enough, wouldn't you agree, to try to hide himself, and the Russians, in plain sight, so to speak."
"Would you spell those Russian names for me, please?"
Montvale did so. Then added: "So, do a really thorough job of searching the place."
"Yes, sir. And what do I do if I find these people?"
"If you find Darby"-you Irish moron-"you find out from him where Castillo and the Russians are. If you find Castillo or the Russians, you detain them, and immediately notify the President, or his chief of staff."
"Yes, sir. And whom do I see at Justice for the warrants, sir?"
"What warrants?"
"The search warrant for the premises, and the arrest warrants for Castillo and these Russians."
"You don't need a warrant"-you cretin-"you're acting on the authority of the President."
"Yes, sir. I understand. And from whom do I get that, sir?"
"Get what?"
"The presidential authority."
"I just gave it to you."
"Sir, it has to be in writing. I would suppose if I'm to act on the authority of the President, President Clendennen would have to sign it himself."
Well, what did I expect? McGuire is part of the Washington bureaucratic establishment.
You don't rise in that-for that matter, stay in that-unless you have mastered the fine art of covering your ass.
"Tom, I'm not sure if President Clendennen would be available to do that at this time. So here's what I want you to do. Just go out there with enough of your people to place the premises under around-the-clock surveillance-discreet surveillance. This situation requires, as I'm sure you understand, the greatest discretion."