Castillo met DeBois's eyes.
"Sir, with respect, you are not here and never have been here. But if you had been here, everything you might have seen, heard, or intuited is classified Top Secret Presidential."
DeBois's eyebrows rose, but he didn't reply.
Phillips came to the door of the commo room and said, "We're up, sir."
"Sir?" Castillo said, and asked DeBois with his eyes to go ahead of him into the commo room.
Sergeant Neidermeyer handed Castillo the handset.
The screen flashed the legend SUSANNA SIENO.
Castillo pressed the speaker button, then said: "Good morning, Susanna."
"How are things in our nation's capital?"
"I just had an unpleasant session with one of your coworkers, a guy named Milton Weiss. Know him?"
"Unfortunately."
"Is Eddie Lorimer around?"
"Right here, Colonel," Lorimer's voice came over the speaker.
"Colonel DeBois of DIA has been asking about you."
"I guess that was bound to happen. Colonel DB's one of the good guys, Colonel. What did you tell him?"
"Nothing, of course," Castillo said. "Hold one, Eddie."
He put his hand over the microphone.
"I'm sorry, Colonel," Castillo said. "But that concludes your tour of the Office of Organizational Analysis."
DeBois looked at him a long moment before he spoke.
"Thank you, Colonel Castillo. If you ever need anything, anything at all, you know where to find me."
"Thank you, sir. And if you hear anything interesting, I'd be grateful if you'd pass it to Major Miller."
DeBois nodded and walked out of the commo room. Castillo put the handset to his ear and turned off the speaker.
"Susanna, how long will it take to get just about everybody there? Including Darby and Santini? And Munz."
"Probably the better part of two hours."
"Well, it's important. So will you set it up, please? Give me a call when everybody's there."
"Will do," she said.
"Break it down, Neidermeyer," Castillo said, and handed him the handset. "Stay loose. As soon as I'm finished with that call, we're off."
"Yes, sir."
Castillo walked out of the commo room and sat down at his desk.
"You shut off the phones in the hotel?" he asked.
Miller shook his head.
Castillo picked up one of the telephones on his desk and punched one of the buttons on it.
"And how are you this bright and sunny morning, Uncle Billy?" Castillo asked in German.
"I probably shouldn't admit this to you," Eric Kocian said, "but I'm actually feeling pretty chipper. Madchen and I took our morning constitutional past the White House. I was reminded of what people say about Paris."
"Which is?"
"Beautiful city. If it wasn't for the people, I'd love it. And then I came back to the hotel and had a word with the manager-"
"What didn't you like?"
"I told him that once he provided a decent leather armchair with footrest, the accommodations would be satisfactory. And to continue to send the bill to Fulda."
"Billy, what am I supposed to do with Max?"
"You were the one who sent Madchen to him. As ye sow, so shall ye reap."
"I've been thinking of sending him to my grandmother."
"His broken heart would be on your conscience, Karlchen. Max took one look at you and-for reasons that baffle me-transferred his affections to you. But dogs choose their masters, you know, rather than the other way around."
Castillo looked across his office. Max was lying on the carpet in front of the couch, his head between his paws, looking at him.
"Where was Sandor Tor when you took your walk this morning?"
"He insisted on going with me. He and an apparently deaf man from the Secret Service. He wears a hearing aid and keeps talking to his lapel."
Castillo laughed, even though he knew he shouldn't.
"You know why he's there, Billy."
"Even as much as they dislike me, I don't think the FSB is going to try to shoot me in front of the White House."
"Never underestimate your enemy. Write that down, Uncle Billy."
"If you have nothing important to say, Karlchen, the hotel has at long last delivered our breakfast. They do a very nice corned beef hash with poached eggs. I suspect Madchen will like it."
"I've got to go out of town for a couple of days. We'll resume this conversation when I get back."
"Remember not to give Max more than one small piece of chocolate at a time. Too much chocolate gives him flatulence. Auf Wiedersehen, Karlchen."
Castillo put the handset back in its cradle. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but didn't. A red LED on another telephone was flashing. Castillo leaned to it to read the legend.
"Montvale," he said, and reached for it.
"That didn't take long, did it?" Miller asked.
"Good morning, Mr. Ambassador," Castillo said. "Why do I think you've just been talking to Mr. Ellsworth?"
"He has a phone in his Yukon," Montvale said. "Did you actually bring that dog to the meeting?"
"Actually, Max invited himself."
"I gather the meeting wasn't all that we hoped it would be?"
"I didn't learn much that I didn't already know."
"So what's next?"
"In case the President asks?"
"In case the President asks."
"Well, I have to go to MacDill to see General McNab, and then to Fort Rucker to see about Hueys, and then to Mississippi to see if I can talk Ambassador Lorimer out of going to Uruguay."
"Your plane is back already?"
"No. I'm going to travel in unparalleled luxury and comfort in an ExecuJet aircraft."
"Which will not be able to land at either MacDill or Fort Rucker without making waves. Would you like to use my plane?"
"I'd love to use your plane. But what if you need it?"
"I'll get something from Andrews."
"Then I gratefully accept. Thank you."
"It'll be waiting for you in, say, thirty minutes. Keep in touch, Charley."
"Yes, sir. I will."
The line went dead.
"Do you think he's loaning you his airplane because he likes you," Miller asked, "or because he can now tell the President he loaned it to you?"
"You have a suspicious and devious mind, Major Miller. Have you ever considered a career in intelligence?"
"Charley, if you want-it would save you two hours-I can bring the people in Argentina up to speed. Unless there's something I don't know?"
"Bottom line: Make no waves."
Miller nodded.
Castillo stood up and walked to the door of the commo room.
"Come on, Neidermeyer," he said. "We're off."
[THREE]
MacDill Air Force Base
Tampa, Florida 1135 4 September 2005 The ground handlers wanded the Gulfstream V to a stop on the visiting aircraft tarmac. An Air Force master sergeant, who Castillo had decided was a combination of crew chief and steward, moved quickly to open the door.
Max, who had been lying in the aisle beside Castillo's chair, greeted him at the door and went down the steps long before anyone could stop him.
Castillo looked out his window, vainly hoping that no one would be watching.
General Bruce J. McNab was marching toward the aircraft. Two officers, one middle-aged and the other younger, were on his heels. All were wearing the Army combat uniform, a loose-fitting garment of light green, gray, and tan camouflage material, worn with the jacket outside the trousers. All were wearing green berets.
One of McNab's rather bushy eyebrows rose and his head moved toward the nose of the aircraft. Castillo couldn't see what he was watching, but there was a very good chance he was watching Max void his bladder on the nose gear.
"Sorry, Colonel," Neidermeyer said. "That sonofabitch is quick."
"Not a problem," Castillo said, as he pushed himself out of his seat. "General McNab would have found something to criticize anyway."
When Castillo got to the door, he saw Max was sitting at the foot of the stair door, waiting for him. He went down the steps, faced General McNab, came to attention, and saluted crisply.
McNab returned it with a casual wave in the direction of his forehead.