The Outlaws_ A Presidential Agent Novel Part 66

"I'll get back to you, Albert. General McNab needs the phone."

"Sir, how do I get in touch with you?"

"You don't. I'll check in with you periodically. Naylor out."

"Lester," McNab then said. "Get me the One-Sixtieth Special Operations Aviation Regiment at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. Make it look like I'm calling from Was.h.i.+ngton."

"Yes, sir."

General Naylor looked around the room. "Why do I feel I'm basking in the approval of a number of people who five minutes ago thought I was a chicken-s.h.i.+t sonofab.i.t.c.h?"

"Dad," Lieutenant Colonel (Designate) Allan Naylor, Jr., said, "why don't we all try to forget what you were five minutes ago?"

[TWO].

The President's Study The White House 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, N.W.

Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C.

0905 12 February 2007

"Good morning, Mr. President," John Powell, the director of the Central Intelligence Agency, said as he walked into the room.

"You're here to tell me that the Russians and Castillo are now en route to Moscow, right?"

"No, sir, I regret that I am not. But there have been some interesting developments, Mr. President, that suggest we're a good deal closer to that solution of the problem than we were at this time yesterday."

"Let's hear them. Before a National Park Service policeman finds another beer barrel of that stuff at Nine Hundred Ohio Drive, Southwest."

"Mr. President, Nine Hundred Ohio Drive?"

"The Lincoln Memorial, Jack. You don't know where it is?"

The President looked very pleased with himself.

"Jack," he went on, "we promised that Russian sonofab.i.t.c.h . . . what's his name, the rezident rezident?"

"Murov, sir. Sergei Murov."

"We promised Murov Murov his two traitors and Castillo several days ago. If I were this guy, I would be wondering why that hasn't happened, and if I were this guy, I think I would be tempted to leave another barrel of this stuff somewhere-say, at Nine Hundred Ohio Drive, Southwest-as a little reminder. You heard what that Fort Detrick scientist . . . what's his name, the black guy . . . ?" his two traitors and Castillo several days ago. If I were this guy, I would be wondering why that hasn't happened, and if I were this guy, I think I would be tempted to leave another barrel of this stuff somewhere-say, at Nine Hundred Ohio Drive, Southwest-as a little reminder. You heard what that Fort Detrick scientist . . . what's his name, the black guy . . . ?"

"Colonel Hamilton, sir. Colonel J. Porter Hamilton."

". . . had to say about how dangerous this stuff is."

"Yes, sir, I did."

"I don't want any more barrels of Congo-X popping up anywhere. You understand?"

"Yes, sir. Of course."

"Now, with that in mind, tell me about the interesting developments."

"Sir, General Naylor has been heard from."

"Where is he?"

"Sir, according to Bruce Festerman-"

"Who the h.e.l.l is he?"

"Festerman is the CIA liaison officer with Central Command at MacDill, Mr. President. We've been on the phone a half-dozen times since yesterday afternoon."

"And?"

"General Naylor called General McFadden, his deputy, from Mexico City and ordered that a s.h.i.+p, the USS Bataan Bataan, which is a Wasp Wasp-cla.s.s amphibious a.s.sault s.h.i.+p, be moved to a location in the Caribbean and be prepared to receive and refuel four Black Hawk helicopters. He also ordered the Navy base at Key West to do the same thing; in other words, be prepared to receive and refuel four UH-60s. It seems clear, sir, that the helicopters will be flown from Key West to the Bataan Bataan."

"Why?"

"I don't know, sir. What I suspect is that General Naylor has learned where Castillo and/or the Russians are, somewhere in Mexico, and is going to go get them."

"And what does Lammelle think?"

"Sir, that's a development I don't quite understand."

"What development don't you understand?"

"Sir, the GPS transmitter in Lammelle's shoe places him aboard the Queen of the Caribbean, Queen of the Caribbean, a cruise s.h.i.+p, which is now in the Caribbean bound for Malaga. There has been nothing from him." a cruise s.h.i.+p, which is now in the Caribbean bound for Malaga. There has been nothing from him."

"And the GPS transmitter in Castillo's laptop places him aboard a river steamer on the Danube between Budapest and Vienna, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"And now you're telling me General Naylor thinks he's found Castillo in Mexico?"

"I am making that inference, sir. I can't imagine why else General Naylor has-"

"Well," the President interrupted, "one possibility is that Lammelle has suddenly decided he needs a vacation, and taking a cruise is the way to do that. But, sitting around here, Jack, with nothing to occupy my mind, I have been thinking of all the bad spy movies I've seen over the years to see if anything in them might be useful."

"Sir?"

"For example, do you think it's possible that somebody shot Lammelle with that whiz-bang dart gun of his and then loaded him onto the cruise s.h.i.+p?"

"Why would anyone want to do that, sir? You're suggesting that Castillo-"

"I'm suggesting General Naylor might have done it. Or more likely, now that I think about it, General McNab."

"Why would they want to do that, sir?"

"To keep him from f.u.c.king up what they're doing to put Castillo and the traitors in the bag."

"I don't think that's likely, Mr. President."

"Tell me about Castillo on the river steamer. You sent people over there, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what have they found out?"

"The s.h.i.+p is called Stadt Wien, Stadt Wien," Powell said. "It plies the Danube back and forth between Budapest and Vienna."

"I already know that. The question is, is Castillo-and maybe the Russians-on it or not?"

"We've learned that Castillo never made a reservation on it."

"That wasn't the question."

"We don't know, Mr. President."

"Did it occur to your people to go aboard the d.a.m.ned s.h.i.+p and look for him?"

"They couldn't get a ticket, Mr. President. And without a ticket you can't get on the Stadt Wien. Stadt Wien. Apparently, sir, you have to make reservations at least two weeks in advance." Powell hesitated and then went on: "What the Apparently, sir, you have to make reservations at least two weeks in advance." Powell hesitated and then went on: "What the Stadt Wien Stadt Wien is, Mr. President, is somewhere the Viennese and the Budapesters take their romantic interests for an overnight trip. Not always their wives, if you take my meaning. It's very popular." is, Mr. President, is somewhere the Viennese and the Budapesters take their romantic interests for an overnight trip. Not always their wives, if you take my meaning. It's very popular."

"Jesus Christ, Jack! Castillo hasn't been over there two weeks. How the h.e.l.l could he have made a reservation on this Hungarian Love Boat Love Boat?"

"Mr. President, all I can tell you is that's where Casey's GPS locator shows he is."

"Presumably f.u.c.king the woman traitor as they cruise up and down the Danube? Jack, listen closely: I don't think Castillo is anywhere near Europe. I think Naylor and McNab have found him in Mexico. And presuming neither the CIA nor Amba.s.sador Stupid get involved and f.u.c.k things up for them-the more I think about it, Naylor or McNab did s did shoot Lammelle with that dart gun and load him on that cruise s.h.i.+p to get rid of him-"

President Clendennen interrupted himself, took a deep breath, and then went on: "Jack, what I want you to do is get in touch with all your Clandestine Service officers who are running around chasing their tails looking for Castillo and the Russians and get them back to Langley. And then lock them in. Naylor is going to bag Castillo if you don't get in the way. You understand me?"

"Yes, Mr. President."

"The next time you walk in that door, Jack, I want you to tell me that you've just learned from General Naylor that he's dealt with the problem. And I don't want to see you until you can do that."

[THREE].

Cozumel International Airport Isla Cozumel Quintana Roo, Mexico 1010 12 February 2007

d.i.c.k Miller and d.i.c.k Sparkman had flown the Policia Federal Preventiva UH-60 from Drug Cartel International to Cozumel. They had carried with them all but two of the ex-Spetsnaz special operators and all the weapons and other equipment that would be needed.

Both pilots had been more than a little p.i.s.sed-and vocally so-with their a.s.signed tasks in the operation. Miller had wanted to fly with Castillo in the UH-60 in the a.s.sault, and Sparkman had simply presumed until the last minute that he would be Jake Torine's co-pilot when the Tu-934A was flown out of La Orchila.

Uncle Remus Leverette had similarly taken for granted that he would be in on the a.s.sault and was more than displeased with his a.s.signed role: He was now to "hold the fort" at Laguna el Guaje. It was more than a figure of speech. There was a small but real chance that some members of the drug cartel-either not having heard, or not caring that Drug Cartel International was closed-would drop in.

If this should happen, Uncle Remus would politely suggest to them that they come back another day-say, in a week-and if that didn't work, he would take the appropriate measures. The drug runners would, if possible, be disarmed, placed in plastic handcuffs, and confined.

If the disarmament option didn't work, they would be eliminated.

To a.s.sist him in this task, in addition to the two ex-Spetsnaz operators, Uncle Remus had Mr. Vic D'Allessando, former Gunnery Sergeant Lester Bradley, and Lieutenant "Peg-Leg" Lorimer (Retired). Former Special Forces Sergeant Aloysius F. Casey and Generals Naylor and McNab were to be the reserve force.

General McNab had voiced no objection to this, but everyone knew if there was shooting, McNab would be in the middle of it.

Lieutenant Colonel (Designate) Naylor-having been told that he would be useless on the actual a.s.sault due to the fact that he (a) was a tank driver, (b) had no Special Operations training, and (c) spoke no Russian-first pleaded to be taken along. Then, when his pleas fell on deaf ears, he said very unkind things to Colonel Castillo.

Colonel Castillo forgave the outburst, kissed him on the forehead, and charged him with sitting-literally, if that became necessary-on the deputy director of the CIA, Mr. Lammelle.

All of those remaining at Drug Cartel International had come to see-if very reluctantly-that there was no valid argument against Castillo's logic in making the a.s.signments. The more the operation was polished, the more it became apparent how much success would depend upon Dmitri Berezovsky's ability to dazzle-or at least substantially confuse-General Sirinov's Spetsnaz until they had a pistol up the general's nose.

Castillo didn't plan to open his mouth, but if he had to, his Russian was so fluent that people thought he came from Saint Petersburg. None of those being left to hold the fort spoke the language so well. And although Uncle Remus's Russian was nearly as good as Castillo's, there were very few Russians as black as G.o.d had made Uncle Remus.

Colonel Jake Torine's Russian was very limited, but he could read the lettering they would find on the instrument panel of the Tu-934A. Navigation of the airplane would be by the Casey GPS system installed on their laptops.

Max, as he was wont to do, suspected his master intended to leave him behind. So, when Castillo, Sweaty, Dmitri, and Roscoe J. Danton got into the Cessna Mustang for the flight to Cozumel, they found Max already lying in the aisle looking at Castillo with melancholy eyes that melted his master's heart.

What the h.e.l.l! When we leave Cozumel, I'll chain him to the seat. Sparkman will be flying this back. He and Sweaty can deal with him; he likes them.

That did not come to pa.s.s.

When the Policia Federal Preventiva UH-60 had been refueled at Cozumel, and after Castillo had spent an hour explaining the c.o.c.kpit specifically and the aircraft generally to Colonel Torine, he had climbed out to see how the loading of the Spetsnaz was going.

He found that everybody had changed into their combat uniforms, which were in fact commercially available summer-weight camouflage-pattern hunting jackets and trousers. They and the khaki trousers/yellow polo s.h.i.+rts everyone wore at Laguna el Guaje had been purchased at three Walmarts in Mexico City, Distrito Federal, by Peg-Leg Lorimer, who had charged them to his LCBF Corporation American Express card.

Peg-Leg reported, on his return from his shopping trip, that his purchases had just about wiped out the stocks in all three Walmart stores.

"When that information is sent by the Walmart computers to Walmart headquarters in Bentonville, Arkansas," Peg-Leg said, "the company will rush to replace the deleted stocks. This in turn will result in a gross overstock of khaki trousers, yellow polo s.h.i.+rts, and summer-weight camouflage-pattern hunting clothes in Mexico City. Walmart executives will be baffled.

"But I strongly suspect that Ol' Jack Walton," Peg-Leg concluded, "will be smiling down at us from that Great Watering Hole in the Sky, pleased that we outfitted this operation from his daddy's store."

John Walton-son of the founder of Walmart, and at his death the eleventh-richest man in the world-had earlier in his life been awarded the nation's third highest award for valor, the Silver Star, while a Special Forces sergeant in Vietnam.

Among those donning their Walmart combat uniforms was former Lieutenant Colonel Svetlana Alekseeva of the SVR, who was rolling up the sleeves of hers when Castillo came around the nose of the Black Hawk. Max was lying on the floor of the Black Hawk's cabin, watching with his head between his legs.