Not that Casey found either occupation wanting.
Instead, he said, his Green Beanie service had given him the confidence to attempt the impossible. In his case, he explained, that meant getting into MIT without a high school diploma on the strength of his self-taught comprehension of both radio wave propagation and cryptographic algorithms.
"A professor," Casey had said, "took a chance on a scrawny little Irishman with the balls to ask for something like getting into MIT and arranged for me to audit classes. By the end of my freshman year, I got my high school diploma. By the end of my second year, I had my BS. The next year, I got my master's and started AFC. By the time I got my doctorate two years later, AFC was up and running. The professor who gave me my chance-Heinz Walle-is now AFC's vice president of research and development. I now have more money than I can spend, so it's payback time."
General McNab had asked him exactly what he had in mind. Dr. Casey replied that he knew the Army's equipment was two, three years obsolete before the first piece of it was delivered.
"What I'm going to do is see that Special Forces has state-of-the-art stuff."
General McNab said that was a great idea, but as Sergeant/Dr. Casey must know, procurement of signal equipment was handled by Signal Corps procurement officials, over whom Special Forces had absolutely no control.
"I'm not about to get involved trying to sell anything to those paper-pushing bastards," Dr. Casey had said. "What I'm going to do is give you the stuff and charge it off to R amp;D."
General McNab was never one to pass up an opportunity, and asked, "It sounds like a great idea. How would you suggest we get started?"
Dr. Casey had then jerked his thumb at General McNab's aide-de-camp, Second Lieutenant C. G. Castillo, who had met Dr. Casey's Lear at Pope AFB.
Because General McNab had better things to do with his time than entertain some [expletive deleted] civilian with friends in the [expletive deleted] U.S. Senate any further than buying the [expletive deleted] lunch, Lieutenant Castillo had taken Dr. Casey on a helicopter tour of Fort Bragg and Fayetteville, North Carolina, until lunchtime.
By the time they landed on the Officers' Club lawn, Dr. Casey had learned the young officer had earned both the pilot's wings and Combat Infantry Badge sewn to his BDU jacket and decided he was one tough and smart little sonofabitch.
"What about me taking the boy wonder here back to Vegas with me after lunch? He can see what we have and what you need, and we can wing it from there."
"Charley," General McNab had ordered Lieutenant Castillo, "go pack a bag. And try to stay out of trouble in Las Vegas."
"Aloysius had this put in?" Castillo asked, picking up the handset.
"You're not listening, Colonel, sir," Dick Miller said. "Aloysius put it in with his own freckled fingers."
"White House," the handset announced.
"Jesus!" Castillo said.
"I'm afraid he's not on the circuit," the White House operator said. "Anyone else you'd like to speak to?"
"This line is secure?" Castillo asked, doubtfully.
"This line is secure."
"I'll be damned!"
"If you keep up the profanity, you probably will be, Colonel."
"How do you know I'm a Colonel?" Castillo said.
"Because this link is listed as Colonel Castillo's Mobile One," the operator said, "and because the voice identification circuit just identified you as Colonel Castillo himself."
"I will be damned."
"It's amazing, isn't it?" the operator said. "And aside from Major Miller, you're the first call we've handled. Even my boss is amazed. Can I put you through to someone, Colonel? Or are you just seeing how it works?"
"Ambassador Montvale on a secure line, please."
"Montvale."
"Good evening, sir. Castillo."
"Didn't take you long to find a secure line, did it, Charley? You've been on the ground only twelve minutes."
"Well, I'm using the one in my Yukon."
"Then this is not a secure line?"
"The White House assures me it's secure, sir."
"In your truck?"
"Yes, sir. Don't you have a secure line in your vehicle?"
There was a pause, which caused Castillo to smirk at the mental image he had of the face that Montvale was now making.
"We'll talk about that when I see you," Montvale said. "How long is it going to take you to get to your Alexandria house?"
"Well, I think we can leave here in fifteen minutes or so. And then however long it takes to get to the house. I've never been there."
"Who's with you, Charley?" Montvale asked, and then before Castillo could answer, went on: "Bring everybody with you who might know something about the possible compromise."
"I gather that you mean, sir, to the house in Alexandria?"
"Are there any problems with that?"
"None, sir, except-"
"You and I are meeting with the President at eight o'clock tomorrow morning," Montvale interrupted. "I don't want to meet him unprepared. Any problems with that?"
"Inspector Doherty was just on the phone to his wife, telling her he'd be right home."
"Well, I especially want to see him. Have him call her back and tell her he's being delayed. I want everybody at your house."
"Excuse me, Mr. Ambassador, but isn't there an agreement between us that you don't give me orders?"
"For the moment, there is," Montvale said, icily. "Let me rephrase. I'll be grateful, Colonel, for the opportunity to meet with you and everybody with knowledge of the possible compromise at your earliest convenience. Say in approximately one hour in Alexandria?"
"I'll do my best to have everyone there as soon as possible, Mr. Ambassador."
There was a click on the line as Montvale hung up without saying anything else.
Castillo put the handset in its cradle.
"I didn't see Doherty using his cellular," Miller said.
"Either did I," Castillo said.
"You just like to pull the tiger's tail, right?"
"If I don't, Dick, I'd find myself asking permission to take a leak."
"Yeah," Miller said thoughtfully after a moment. Then he asked, "What has to go to the complex?"
"Not that much. One filing cabinet just about full of paper. And then a dozen external hard drives. What do I do about the weapons?"
"I'd take them to the house," Miller said.
"Okay," Castillo said.
"You heard all this, Stan?" Miller asked the Secret Service driver.
"Uh-huh. I'll take care of it."
"Somebody'll have to sit on the filing cabinet and the hard drives," Castillo said. "Unless we can get everything into the vault tonight."
"I think I'll have somebody sit on the vault, Colonel, after we get everything inside."
"Thank you," Castillo said.
[TWO] 7200 West Boulevard Drive
Alexandria, Virginia 2325 1 September 2005 The first impression Castillo had of the new property was that it was a typical Alexandria redbrick two-story home. The exception being, perhaps, the size of its lot; the front lawn was at least one hundred yards from West Boulevard Drive.
But his first impression changed as the Yukon rolled up the driveway.
Castillo saw that the rise in the lawn concealed both a circular drive in front of the house and a large area in front of the basement garage on the right. There was another Yukon XL parked there, and a Buick sedan, but there was still room enough for the three Yukons in the convoy to park easily.
The Yukon's probably Montvale's. He's too exalted to drive a lowly Buick, particularly since a Yukon with a Secret Service driver from the White House pool is the status symbol in Washington.
And if it is his, he's waiting for me in the living room, in the largest chair, finally having succeeded in summoning me to the throne room.