"There is our friend Castillo right now," the DCI said.
"What's he doing in the Hotel Gellert in Budapest?" Waters asked.
"Does it matter? Just as long as the case officers know where to find him when they get there."
"It would have been easier, and maybe quicker, to send the plane from Tampa. We know the guys on the plane are good, know the score, and if we had sent it over there the moment we saw he was headed for Europe, they would be there, or almost there, now."
"So you've been saying, five or six times," the DCI said.
"I stand chastised."
"And well you should," the DCI said, only half-jokingly.
When enough time for that to have sunk in had passed, the DCI went on: "And what you can do with this software, Stan-that Casey is really a fucking genius-is program a time lapse into it. Like this."
He tapped a few keys. The map changed and now showed a map covering the world from near Acapulco to Budapest.
"This arrow is when Castillo started to move from Grandma's house," the DCI said. "That was at sixteen-thirty Acapulco time yesterday. I'll set this thing to show us where he was by the hour."
He tapped keys.
"There it is…"
A series of arrows appeared on a line from Acapulco to Budapest.
"Unfortunately, there was a cloud cover, so we couldn't get a very good picture of what's moving. But enough to categorize it as a small jet. One hour later…"
He used his finger as a pointer.
"… it was almost halfway to Cancun, and two hours later, it was almost in Cancun, telling us it was making about three hundred thirty knots, which suggests that he's flying the family Lear, which makes sense, as we know the Gulfstream III is in Panama City, Panama.
"An hour after that, having taken on fuel in Cancun, he was about two hundred miles on his way to Panama City… Watch the arrow jump, Stan. Another hour, another three hundred forty nautical miles, and then another, et cetera, until he reaches Panama City, Panama.
"And there Castillo sat for almost three hours until he boarded Varig Flight 2030 for Madrid."
"Jack, for Christ's sake, you're like a kid with your goddamn computer!"
"Indulge me," the DCI said. "And there he is in Madrid."
"Goddamn it, Jack!"
"And finally, courtesy of Lufthansa, there he is in Budapest."
"What do you think he did with his airplane in Panama City?"
"No telling. We should know by the morning when we get the satellite imagery. It could be sitting on the tarmac there, or that Air Force guy, Torine, could have flown it somewhere. I never understood how that worked. Torine was a pretty senior full colonel, and our boy a very junior lieutenant colonel. So how come Torine works for Castillo?"
"I have no idea. What are you going to do with Lammelle?"
"What do you mean, do with him?"
"You are going to tell him that Castillo is in Budapest?"
"I could tell Frank, but he would have to tell General Naylor, and General Naylor would naturally want to know how Lammelle, or the CIA, knows where Castillo is. The truthful answer to that would be that, courtesy of Aloysius Francis Casey, those people in Las Vegas are tracking Colonel Castillo through a GPS transmitter in his laptop. And we don't want to reveal that, do we?"
"So Frank just sits at MacDill?"
"Unless McNab thinks he has found Castillo, and they all rush off to the wrong place to put them in the bag. You wouldn't believe, Stan, how low our director of National Intelligence has sunk in the President's esteem as a result of his wild-goose chase in Argentina. It would be unfortunate if Lammelle came to be known as a Wild-Goose Chaser in the mold of Ambassador Montvale, but that's the way the ball just might bounce. If that should happen, of course, it would tend to eliminate Frank as a replacement for me when Clendennen gives Montvale the boot and I become the DNI. I would recommend you to replace me if it were not for your unfortunate tendency to mock my interest in Casey's electronic toys."
"I can reform, Jack."
"You had fucking well better, Stan." [TWO] Office of the Commanding General United States Army Central Command MacDill Air Force Base Tampa, Florida 1605 10 February 2007 "Vic needs a minute, General," Command Sergeant Major Wes Suggins said from McNab's door.
Naylor did not like the rapport that had developed almost immediately between his sergeant major and D'Allessando, but he both understood it-Sergeants major are in fact the backbone of the Army and that's especially true with men like these two, who function at the highest levels of the service-and he knew that he couldn't warn Suggins against D'Allessando, who was in fact at this moment not a trusted member of the team but the enemy.
He motioned for Suggins to admit D'Allessando, and called, "Come on in, Vic."
"Afternoon, General," D'Allessando said. "Call for you."
He handed Naylor what looked like a BlackBerry but was in fact a CaseyBerry.
Naylor took it.
"General Naylor."
"General McNab, General. And how are things on beautiful Tampa Bay this afternoon?"
The sonofabitch has this thing on LOUDSPEAKER.
And I will be damned if I will give him the satisfaction of knowing I don't know how to turn it off.
"I've been wondering when we were going to hear from you, General," Naylor said.
"I can understand that, General."
"I'm a little surprised you didn't call on a secure line."
"This is about as secure a line as you can get, actually."
"Have you found what you're looking for?"
"I'm always looking for peace, love, and affluence, but I suspect you're asking, 'Did you find Charley?'"
D'Allessando chuckled.
Don't let either of these bastards make you lose your temper!
"And did you?"
"I managed to have a chat with him."
"And? Where is he?"
"He didn't say. But he's agreeable to talk with you, if you like, as an old friend."
"Right now, General, we're not old friends, but a general officer and a lieutenant colonel."
"Oh, I guess I misspoke. Or at least should have made this clear. I spoke with a German national by the name of Karl Wilhelm von und zu Gossinger. During the course of our conversation, he said he was surprised that I didn't know that Lieutenant Colonel Castillo, Retired, having been ordered by the President of the United States to disappear and never be heard from again, was in compliance with his orders."
"General, the President of the United States has ordered me to order Colonel Castillo-"
"General, how can you order someone to do anything who has disappeared and will never be heard from again?"
D'Allessando chuckled again and smiled at Naylor.
"Something amuses you, D'Allessando?" Naylor snapped.
"Looks like you have a problem, General," D'Allessando said.
"Get the hell out of my office!"
"Yes, sir," D'Allessando said, and put out his hand. "May I have my CaseyBerry, please?"
You sonofabitch, that's going to cost you!
"What Herr von und zu Gossinger said he is willing to do, General," McNab went on, "is meet you in Cancun tomorrow morning."
"Cancun, Mexico?" Naylor asked incredulously.
"That's the one. And he wants you to fly there commercially. There's an Aeromexico flight out of Lauderdale tonight at seventeen-thirty; it'll put you in there a little after oh-one-thirty. They call it the Drug Dealer's Red-Eye. He says it probably would attract less attention if you didn't wear your uniform…"
Sonofabitch!!!
"… and he hopes you and your party will be his guests at El Dorado Royale in Cancun. People from El Dorado Royale-it's a five-star hotel-will meet your flight. How many will there be in your party, General?"
"That would presume I'm going along with this, wouldn't it?"
"Excuse me, General?"
"Myself, Mr. Lammelle, Major Brewer, and, I presume, Mr. D'Allessando. And my son."