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[FOUR]
The Embassy of the United States of America
Szabadság tér 12
Budapest, Hungary
1825 6 August 2005
There was a Marine sergeant on guard behind a bulletproof-glass window in the lobby of the seven-story century-old mansion housing the United States embassy.
“Sir, you can’t bring a dog in here,” the sergeant said.
“Think of him as a friend of man, like a Seeing Eye dog,” Castillo replied.
The sergeant smiled, but said, “Sir, that’s the rules.”
Otto Görner watched as C. G. Castillo slid his Secret Service credentials through the slot under the glass. The sergeant examined them carefully, then returned them.
“Why don’t we get the ambassador on the horn and see if he won’t make an exception for my puppy?” Castillo asked.
“Sir, the ambassador’s not in the embassy.”
“Well, then get the duty officer down here,” Castillo said. “And I’m going to have to speak to the ambassador, so why don’t you, one, call the duty officer and, two, get the ambassador on that phone for me?”
He pointed to a telephone on the counter.
The Marine guard picked up the change of tenor in Castillo’s voice—from We’re joking with each other to That’s a command.
“One moment, sir,” he said and picked up his telephone.
The ambassador came on the line very quickly.
“And how are you, Mr. Castillo?” he asked. “Actually, I’ve been expecting you.”
“A little bird named Montvale told you I was coming?”
“And that he wants to speak to you.”
“I need a secure line, sir, to do just that,” Castillo said.
“Not a problem. Tell the Marine guard to pick up.”
“And I need a waiver, sir, of your no-canines-on-the-property rule.”
“You’ve got a dog with you?”
“Yes, sir. A sweet puppy who whines piteously when I tie him to a fence or something and leave him.”
The ambassador laughed. “Okay. The Marine can handle that, too.”
“And I need to see the man who gets his pay from Langley.”
“That’s not a problem at all. He’s probably with my duty officer, waiting for you to show up so he can tell you personally that Ambassador Montvale wishes to speak with you.”
Two men came into the lobby through the metal-detector arch. They were both in their forties and both were wearing dark gray summer-weight suits that Castillo suspected had come from Brooks Brothers.
“I think they have both just walked into the lobby, Mr. Ambassador.”
