Susanna said: "He can't understand why someone like himself, who has kissed all the appropriate buttocks in Langley for years, gets assigned to Asuncion when troublemakers like Paul and Alex and me got to go to Buenos Aires."
"What about the military attache?" Castillo asked.
"He and the station chief are great pals," Santini said. "I don't think talking to them would work, Charley."
"And I don't want to go to the ambassador there, or involve Silvio any more than I already have," Castillo said, almost thoughtfully. "If this thing blows up in our faces, the less he knows the better."
Juan Manuel Silvio was the United States Ambassador to Argentina. He had put his career at risk to help Castillo to carry out the Presidential Finding.
"So?" Delchamps asked.
"So, I guess I have to go to the other ambassador."
The other ambassador was the Honorable Charles W. Montvale, the former deputy secretary of State, former secretary of the Treasury, and former ambassador to the European Union. And now the director of National Intelligence.
Castillo shook his head and said, "I now know how Lee felt at Appomattox Court House when he said, 'I would rather face a thousand deaths, but now I must go and treat with General Grant.'"
"Is he really that bad, Charley?" Susanna asked.
"Right now, Susie, I feel like a small white mouse about to be put into the cobra's cage," Castillo said.
He pushed himself away from the wall, walked to the bed, and gestured to Solez to give up his seat.
"You want some privacy, Ace?" Delchamps said.
"No. I want everybody to hear this," Castillo said, sat down on the bed, and punched the SPEAKER PHONE button on what looked like an ordinary telephone.
"Corporal Bradley speaking, sir," Lester's voice came over the speaker.
"Is the Local Secure LED lit, Lester?"
"Yes, sir."
"Get Major Miller on here, secure."
"Aye, aye, sir."
Ten seconds later, a male voice came very clearly over the speaker.
"And how are things down in Buenos Aires on this miserable, blistering, humid afternoon in our beloved nation's capital?"
"Verify secure," Bradley's voice piped.
"Ah, the pride of the Marine Corps! The little green light is glowing brightly, Lester."
"Colonel, the line is secure. I believe Major Miller is the party answering."
"Thank you, Bradley," Castillo said. "Hey, Dick!"
"A sus ordenes, mi coronel," Miller said.
"Get Agnes on an extension, and then patch me through secure to the White House."
"I don't like the tone of your voice," Miller said, seriously. "Hold one, Charley."
Twenty seconds later, a female voice announced, "White House."
"You on, Agnes?" Castillo asked.
"Uh-huh," Mrs. Agnes Forbison, the deputy chief for administration of the Office of Organizational Analysis, said.
"You and Dick stay on the line," Castillo said. "Don't record or take notes, but pay attention."
"Why do I think I know what you're going to say next?" Agnes Forbison asked.
"White House," the female operator repeated.
"You're prescient, Agnes," Castillo said, and then, "Operator, this is Colonel Castillo. Will you get me Ambassador Montvale on a secure line, please?"
"Hold one, Colonel. It may take a moment. He's in the mountains with the boss."
Oh, shit!
Ten seconds later, a male voice came on.
"Ambassador Montvale's line."
"Colonel Castillo for Ambassador Montvale," the White House operator said. "The line is secure."
"The ambassador is with the President. I'm not sure he can be disturbed."
"Is that Mr. Ellsworth?" Castillo asked.
Truman C. Ellsworth had risen high in government service as Ambassador Montvale's trusted deputy. He was not an admirer of Lieutenant Colonel Castillo, whom he viewed as a threat to Montvale.
"Good afternoon, Colonel," Ellsworth said in his somewhat nasal voice.
"I have to speak to the ambassador. Your call, Mr. Ellsworth, as to if he can be interrupted when he's with the President."
There was no reply, but in five seconds another male voice, one somewhat impatient, came over the speakers.
"Yes?"
Ellsworth, you sonofabitch!
"This is Castillo, Mr. President. Sorry to bother you, sir. I was trying to get the ambassador."
"My line rang," the President said, and then corrected himself. "Flashed. How are you, Charley?"
"Very well, thank you, sir."
"You're in Argentina, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"What kind of television do you get down there?"
"We've been watching Fox and Deutsche Welle, Mr. President."
"So you know what's going on in New Orleans and along the Gulf Coast?"
"Yes, sir."
"We're watching. Hard to believe, isn't it?"
Un-fucking-believable, sir.
"Yes, Mr. President, it is."
"I want to see you as soon as you get back up here, Charley. When is that going to be?"
"Probably late tomorrow, sir."
"Okay. I'll see you then. Unless I'm down there overseeing this disaster. You find me, either way."
"Yes, sir."
"Charles," Castillo heard the President say, "it's Charley for you."
Ambassador Montvale came on the line a moment later.
"Good to hear from you, Colonel," he said. "What can I do for you?"
"Buy Mr. Ellsworth a new pair of glasses."
"Excuse me?"
"I can think of no reason but fuzzy eyesight for his pushing the President's button when he knew I wanted to talk to you, can you?"
"I'm sure that it was inadvertent."
"Oh, me too," Castillo said, sarcastically. "I can't imagine him doing it on purpose, hoping it would cause the President to be annoyed with me. It just has to be his glasses."
"What can I do for you, Charley?" Montvale asked, his annoyance clear in his voice.
"There's a risk of compromise down here that I want to stop before it goes any further."
"At this late date?"
"Yes, sir."
"What needs to be done?"
"Two things. First, please call the station chief in Paraguay and tell him that Alex Darby is coming to see him and will speak with your authority."
"My authority about what?"
"To tell his people to stop guessing between them what happened in Uruguay and here, and stop talking about it, period."
"Should I call the ambassador there?"
"Let's leave him out of it, if we can."
"Your call. But forewarned is forearmed, as you know."
"And then call Fort Meade and have the DIA immediately transfer First Lieutenant Edmund Lorimer, an assistant military attache at the embassy in Asuncion, to OOA."
"What's that about?"
"He was clever enough to learn my name and find the safe house. I don't want to leave him here."
"A troublemaker, in other words?"
"Mr. Ambassador, he's done nothing but what I would have done in his shoes."
"Why don't I find that comforting, do you suppose?"
Castillo ignored the response.
"We're shutting down here," Castillo went on, "just to be safe. We're just about finished here anyway. We ought to be in Washington sometime late tomorrow. I'm going to bring Lorimer with us."
"Come see me when you get here."
"Yes, sir. Of course."
"I'll get right on this."
"Thank you, sir."
Castillo waited until the White House operator, detecting that the telephone in Camp David had been hung up, asked, "Are you through, Colonel?"
"Break it down, please, thank you," Castillo said, and then, after a moment, "You heard that, Agnes? Dick?"
"Why do I think Mr. Ellsworth doesn't like you?" Agnes asked.
"With a little bit of luck, I can stop this before it gets any worse," Castillo said. "But I wanted you to have a heads-up if it goes wrong. I'll give you a call when we're a couple hours out of Baltimore. We're going to need three Yukons."
"They'll be there," Agnes said.
"Where do we live now, Dick?"
"I was about to call you about that," Miller said. "You know West Boulevard Drive in Alexandria?"
"Maybe. I think so."
"Agnes knows a real estate guy, and he put her onto a place at 7200 West Boulevard Drive. An old couple lived there, she died, and then a month later, three months ago, he did. Their kids didn't want it, and they want the money quick. They went through it and took out the valuable stuff, but what's left is nice."