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“I know who he is. What about his deputy?”
“His deputy referred me to Central Command, sir.”
“And?”
“General Naylor—I had some difficulty getting him on the phone, sir—finally told me that I didn’t have the need to know.”
“He said there was an operation and you didn’t have the need to know? Or that you didn’t have the need to know about Gray Fox operations generally?”
“General Naylor’s comments could be interpreted either way, sir.”
Secretary Beiderman picked up one of the telephones on his desk and said, “Teresa, get Naylor on a secure line for me and don’t let them stall you.”
General Withers unzipped a compartment of his briefcase and came out with a single sheet of paper.
“And there’s this, Mr. Secretary.”
Beiderman snatched it from him.
“What the hell is this?” he asked. “A goddamned letter of commendation?”
“Yes, sir. It was delivered first thing this morning by helicopter, sir.”
“The president sent this to you by helicopter?” Beiderman asked, incredulously, and then without giving Withers a chance to reply went on: “Who the hell is Major H. Richard Miller, Jr.? And what the hell did he do of a ‘covert nature’ in Luanda, Angola? ‘Demonstrating wisdom normally expected only of officers of far senior grade and experience’? And how the hell did the president . . .”
He broke off in midsentence when a light on his telephone began to flash. He snatched the telephone from its cradle.
“Is that you, Naylor?—
“I’ve got General Withers in here and he tells me when he asked you about a Gray Fox operation supposedly now under way you told him he didn’t have the need to know. Is that right?—
“For Christ’s sake, he’s the commanding general of the Defense Intelligence Agency and he doesn’t have the goddamned need to know?—
“More to the point, General, what is this Gray Fox operation? And how come this is the first I’ve heard of it?—
“Those were your orders? Orders from who?—
“The president personally? Or someone who said he was speaking for the president?—
“And this was when?—
“And the president specifically said I was not to be informed? —
“No one was to be informed? And you assumed that included the secretary of defense?—
“Those were your orders, huh? Jesus Christ, Naylor!” He slammed the handset into the cradle and then immediately picked it up again.
“Teresa, see if you can get the president on the line,” he ordered and slammed the handset down again.
He looked at Withers.
“That airplane was stolen from Luanda, right? There’s a connection between that and this major?”
“Apparently, sir.”
“Which is?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
