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“He’s yours, Matt. I’m glad it’s worked out.”

General Naylor clicked on the READ button. The laptop screen filled up almost instantly.

WE

JUST GOT THIS FROM LANGLEY

WHAT DO YOU MAKE OF IT?

FOLLOWING RECEIVED 1133 23 MAY 2005 FROM LUANDA, ANGOLA, IS FORWARDED FOR YOUR INFORMATION.

CONFIDENTIAL

SATBURST 01 LUANDA 23 MAY 2005

FOR REGDIR SWAFRICA

A BOEING 727 TRANSPORT AIRCRAFT LA-9021 REGISTERED TO LEASE-AIRE, INC., PHILA., PENN., TOOK OFF WITHOUT PERMISSION FROM QUATRO DE FEVEREIRO AEROPORTO INTERNACIONAL AT 1425 LOCAL TIME 23 MAY 2005 AND DISAPPEARED FROM RADAR SHORTLY THEREAFTER. ANGOLAN AUTHORITIES KNOWN TO BELIEVE AIRCRAFT WAS STOLEN. MORE TO FOLLOW. STACHIEF LUANDA

REGARDS

CHARLEY

There were several things wrong with Charley’s message, which caused Naylor to frown thoughtfully, and which, in turn, caused half a dozen of the people at the conference table to wonder what had come over that goddamned IBB to cause the commanding general to frown thoughtfully.

For one thing, I don’t know if this is from Charley or Hall. Charley said, “We just got this message.” Does “we” mean the Department of Homeland Security, or Matt and Charley, or just Charley using the regal “we”? Or what?

Was Matt standing there when the message arrived and said, “Why don’t we ask Naylor?” Or words to that effect?

Or is this message a “What do you think of this, Uncle Allan?”-type message? Expressing idle curiosity? Or wanting to know what I think in case Matt asks him later?

Damn it!

The commanding general of Central Command rapped his water glass with a pencil and gained the attention of all the conferees.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “For several reasons, high among them that I think we’re all a little groggy after being at this so long, I hereby adjourn this conference until tomorrow morning, place and time to be announced by Sergeant Major Suggins.

“The second reason is that it has just come to my attention that an airliner has allegedly been stolen in Luanda, Angola, and I would like to know what, if anything, anyone here knows about it.”

He looked at Mr. Lawrence P. Fremont as he spoke. Mr. Fremont was the liaison officer between Central Command and the Central Intelligence Agency. It was obvious that Mr. Fremont had absolutely no idea what Naylor was talking about.

Neither, to judge from the looks on their faces, did Vice-Admiral Louis J. Warley, USN, Central Command’s J-2 (Intelligence Officer); nor Lieutenant General George H. Potter, USA, the CentCom J-5; nor Mr. Brian Willis, who was the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Resident Special Agent in Charge, known as the SAC.

I didn’t expect all of them to be on top of this, but none of them? Jesus H. Christ!

“I’d like Mr. Fremont, Admiral Warley, Mr. Willis, and General Potter to stay behind a moment, please. The rest of you gentlemen may go, with my thanks for your devoted attention during a long and grueling session,” General Naylor said.

Everybody but the four people he had named filed out of the conference room.

Naylor looked at the four men standing by the conference table.

“If it would be convenient, gentlemen, I’d like to see you all in my office in twenty minutes, together with what you can find out about . . .” He dropped his eyes to the laptop, and read, “. . . CIA Satburst 01, Luanda, 23 May, in that time.” He looked up at Potter, and added, “Larry, see if you can find out who the CIA man is in Luanda. I’d like to know who sent this message.”

“I think I know, sir,” General Potter said.

Naylor looked at him.

General Potter, aware that General Naylor believed that no information is better than wrong information, said, “I’m not sure, sir. I’ll check.”

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