The Hostage Part 55

"I was privy to the conversation between Major Castillo and Mrs. Masterson just now," Torine said. "And the reason she gave for her going to Major Castillo was because she believed what Mr. Darby had told her about Major Castillo."

"And that was?" Montvale asked.

"Apparently, sir," Torine replied, "Mr. Darby told Mrs. Masterson that he believes that Major Castillo is- this is just about verbatim from Mrs. Masterson-'one really tough sonofab.i.t.c.h, and just the guy you need in your corner when you're really in trouble.'"

The President c.o.c.ked his head and smiled. "Well, for once I find myself in complete agreement with the opinion of a CIA station chief. That pretty much answer your question, Charles?"

"Yes, it does, Mr. President."

Castillo saw that General Naylor was quietly coughing behind his hand. From long experience, Castillo knew he did this when he wanted to conceal a smile.

When Castillo glanced at Secretary Hall, Hall winked at him and didn't bother to try to conceal his smile.

Up yours, Amba.s.sador Montvale, you pompous sonofab.i.t.c.h! Charley thought, then caught himself. Charley thought, then caught himself.

There you go again, stupid!

If there's anybody you should try to get along with, it's Charles Montvale, the director of national intelligence.

You haven't been in his presence ten minutes and he's already decided-probably with justification-that C. G. Castillo is one arrogant little sonofab.i.t.c.h who needs to be cut down to size as quickly as possible.

The worst thing you can do to a guy like Montvale is humiliate him in the presence of his peers and the President of the United States. He's not going to forget or forgive that.

"Why do you think these people want the brother, Charley?" the President asked. "And who do you think they are?"

"I have no idea, Mr. President," Castillo confessed. "But I think talking to him-presuming I can find him- is the next thing I should do."

"And the UN says they don't know where he is, Natalie?" the President asked.

"We wanted to contact him when Mrs. Masterson was abducted, so that he could deal with the family, as their father, Amba.s.sador Lorimer, has serious heart problems. Nothing. And all our emba.s.sy in Paris has been able to come up with is that his car is in his garage, his clothing is in his apartment, and it looks like he's just taken a trip or something. Apparently, he's pretty much his own boss, going wherever he wants, whenever he wants."

"These people have killed to show how much they want this fellow," the President said. "So his life is in danger. Are you going to tell the UN that? Would that get them off the dime?"

"Sir, I presume that the UN, in New York and Paris, knows of the Masterson murder."

"But not what Mrs. Masterson told Charley, right?"

"No, sir. I'll get on the horn right now to our UN amba.s.sador and have him pa.s.s that on if you think I should."

"I wish you wouldn't," Castillo blurted.

"Why not?" Natalie Cohen asked curiously, not offended.

"I have a gut feeling it's the wrong thing to do."

The secretary of state looked at the President. His face was thoughtful.

"I'm about to make a point here, so pay attention," the President said. "We're going along with Castillo's gut feeling, not because I necessarily agree with it, but because I don't feel strongly enough about it to override him. And I am the only person who can-and from time to time will-override him. Okay?"

"Yes, sir," Dr. Cohen said.

"What are you going to do about the missing brother, Charley?"

"I'm going to go to Europe and see if I can find him."

"When?"

"As soon as I'm sure Mrs. Masterson and the children are safe, sir. I gave her my word she will be protected."

"And she will be," the President said. "Did you notice some of your Delta Force buddies out there, Charley?"

"Yes, sir, I did."

"The attorney general agreed with me that in this situation the use of troops to protect the Mastersons was justified. Obviously, there's a time limit. But for now, I'd say they're safe."

"Mrs. Masterson asked Special Agent Schneider to find out about private security, sir. I'm going to see what I can do."

"That out of the way, you want to go to Europe as soon as possible?"

"Yes, sir."

"You want to ride to Was.h.i.+ngton with us? I suspect that you can get to Europe quicker from Was.h.i.+ngton than you can from Biloxi."

"Sir, I asked my cousin to bring the family's airplane here. I want to use that."

"Not an Air Force plane? A Gulfstream, maybe?"

"I think a civilian airplane would be better, sir. Less conspicuous."

"And very expensive to operate. What about that? Who's going to pay for that?"

"Sir, the last time we used it-in the 727 operation, flying it to Mexico and Costa Rica-it was leased to the Secret Service. I was hoping that could be done again."

The President looked at Secretary Hall. The Secret Service had become part of the Department of Homeland Security.

"Any problem there, Matt?"

"No, sir," Hall replied, and then added, "It's here, Charley. Fernando is in the hangar where we'll . . . hold the ceremony."

"Okay, then," the President said. "Anything else you need right now? Equipment, people?"

"It's a long list, sir."

The President signaled him to continue.

"I'd like to stop at Fort Bragg and pick up a Gray Fox satellite radio, and an operator, and take that with us. And I'd like another installed at the Nebraska Avenue complex, and a third to be sent to the emba.s.sy in Argentina with an operator."

"That will pose no problem, will it, General Naylor?" the President asked.

"None, sir. I'll get right on the horn to General McNab."

"Anything else, Charley?"

"Yes, sir. I'd like to borrow one of Colonel Torine's pilots, one with over-the-ocean experience. I've never flown across an ocean by myself."

"Shouldn't be a problem, should it, Colonel?"

"Unfortunately it is, sir," Torine said. "Until this moment, Mr. President, I had no idea Major Castillo was not entirely satisfied with my flying skills. I am crushed and humiliated beyond words."

"You mean you want to fly his airplane?" the President asked, smiling.

"Very much, sir."

"So ordered," the President said.

"Thanks," Castillo said to Torine.

The President looked at his watch.

"Well, we're out of time. I've got to change my s.h.i.+rt. While I'm doing that, you can finish your shopping list."

He walked out of the conference room.

Castillo felt Montvale's cold eyes on him.

"So what else can we do for you, Major?" he asked, with emphasis on the "Major."

Castillo looked at the secretary of state.

"I'm going to need some help with my pa.s.sports, ma'am."

"Pa.s.sports, plural?" Montvale asked.

"I went to Argentina on my German pa.s.sport-"

"I beg your pardon?" Montvale interrupted.

"Major Castillo has dual citizens.h.i.+p, Mr. Amba.s.sador," General Naylor said, suddenly and pointedly. "Sometimes, he uses his German nationality-very effectively-when he's on a covert a.s.signment."

Did he come to my aid as loving Uncle Allan?

Or because Montvale's att.i.tude toward me got under his skin?

Maybe, probably both. In one of his many lectures before I went to West Point, he told me to never forget that being given rank does not carry with it the right to jump on those of junior rank, especially in the presence of others.

Which of course I did when I gave that Old Guard lieutenant h.e.l.l with Corporal Lester Bradley, USMC, standing there with both ears open.

Which proves of course that I am not nearly as good an officer as I like to pretend I am.

"Go on, please, Major," Naylor said.

"General, Gossinger is on Argentine immigration records-"

"Gossinger?" Montvale interrupted. "Who's Gossinger?"

This time the secretary of state came to Castillo's aid.

"Charles," she said, "perhaps we could let Major Castillo finish at least one sentence before we start asking questions?"

Montvale, for a second, glared at her. But then he apparently considered that Natalie Cohen, as secretary of state, was not only the most senior officer of the Presidential Cabinet-and thus the presiding officer of this ad hoc meeting of members of the cabinet-but a close personal friend of the President, and therefore was not to be crossed.

"Pardon me, Major," Montvale said. "Please continue."

"The Argentines have a record of Gossinger entering the country, Dr. Cohen," Castillo said. "There was no immigration check as we left. Which was lucky for me, since I didn't have to produce an American pa.s.sport, which didn't have an entry stamp, or the German pa.s.sport, which would have blown that cover. So, according to the books, Gossinger is still in Argentina, and I'd like to get him out."

"I get the picture," she said. "I suggest we issue you a new American pa.s.sport, which will obviously have no immigration stamps in it at all, and then have the CIA put an exit stamp on your German pa.s.sport. Their doc.u.ments section is very good at that sort of thing." She looked at Montvale. "Wouldn't you agree, Charles?"

"That would seem to be the solution," Montvale said.

"We'll need a pa.s.sport photo," Dr. Cohen said.

"There's some in my desk in the Nebraska complex," Castillo said.

"Charley, if you'll give me both pa.s.sports before we leave here," Secretary Hall said, "I'll have Joel Isaacson pick up the pa.s.sport photo, and then run everything through Foggy Bottom and Langley. He knows all the right people in both places." He turned to Montvale. "That sound all right to you, Charles?"

"Whatever is the most efficient means of accomplis.h.i.+ng what has to be done, of course."

"Would you like me to call DCI Powell, Charles, and tell him what we need, or would you prefer to do that yourself?" Natalie Cohen asked.

"I'll call him," Montvale said.

"Anything else, Charley?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am, one more thing. There's an FBI agent attached to the emba.s.sy in Montevideo. David William Yung, Jr. He was sent to Buenos Aires when Mrs. Masterson was abducted as someone with kidnapping experience."

"What about him?" Montvale asked.

"He seemed to be unusually interested in me, for one thing," Castillo said.

"I would be, too, if I were an FBI agent and a young Army major was placed in overall charge of a situation like that," Montvale said.

Castillo looked at both Cohen and Hall and saw in their eyes that they had taken his meaning.

"And second," Castillo went on, "a usually reliable source, a former senior FBI official, who knows Special Agent Yung, told me he doesn't believe Yung is really doing what he says he's doing, looking into money laundering."

"In my experience, the FBI does not confide in outsiders," Montvale said. "Just who told you-"

The door opened.