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Phillips opened a drawer in the table holding the radios and came out with a coil of wire from which he quickly fashioned a leash.
He handed it to Castillo, who looped it to the D-ring of Max's collar and then handed the end of it to Sergeant Phillips.
"Max, you stay," Castillo said, in Hungarian, and then switched back to English. "And while I'm gone, Jamie, make up your mind who's going with me."
"Ever willing to make any sacrifice for the common good, Colonel," Neidermeyer said, "I will take that hardship upon myself."
"Your call, Jamie."
"Where we going, sir?" Neidermeyer said. "Buenos Aires?"
"You like Buenos Aires, do you?"
"It is not what I would call a hardship assignment, sir."
"We're going to Rucker, Sergeant Neidermeyer. One more proof that a smart soldier never volunteers for anything."
Castillo raised his arm in a gesture of So long and walked out of the radio room and into his office.
Miller was sitting on the edge of his desk.
"They're waiting for you," he said, nodding toward the door to the conference room. "You want me to come along?"
"Please," Castillo said, and went to the door and opened it.
Truman Ellsworth, a tall, silver-haired, rather elegant man in his fifties, was standing at a lectern set up at the head of the conference table.
There were a dozen people sitting at the table, which had places for twenty. There were perhaps twice that number sitting on chairs against the walls, obviously subordinates of the people at the table, and not senior enough to be at the table.
The only person Castillo recognized was Milton Weiss. He was sitting near one end of the table, between a man and a woman, obviously the CIA delegation.
Castillo and Miller took seats halfway down the table across from Weiss, who looked at Castillo but gave no sign of recognition.
"If I may have your attention, ladies and gentlemen," Ellsworth said. "Now that Lieutenant Colonel Castillo, who is the representative of the Department of Homeland Security, has joined us, we can get this under way."
You pompous sonofabitch!
Should I have brought a note from my mommy saying why I'm late?
"My name is Truman Ellsworth. Ambassador Montvale had other things on his plate this morning and sent me to represent him. This is, as I said, an informal meeting, but in view of the sensitive material which may come to light, a Top Secret security classification is in place, and it is not to be recorded.
"As I understand it," Ellsworth went on, "the attorney general and the DNI, Ambassador Montvale, are agreed that there may well be intelligence aspects to the kidnapping of a DEA agent in Paraguay, and that it behooves us to share, informally, what information we have which might shed light on the situation.
"May I suggest that the principals identify themselves? Why don't we work our way around the table?"
He sat down and nodded to a swarthy man on his right.
"John Walsh, DEA," the man said.
"Helena Dumbrowsky, State Department," a somewhat plump, red-haired woman announced.
"Norman Seacroft, Treasury." He was a slight, thin man in a baggy suit.
"Milton Weiss, CIA."
"Colonel K. L. DeBois, DIA." The representative of the Defense Intelligence Agency was tall and wiry, and wore his hair clipped almost to the skull.
"C. G. Castillo, Homeland Security."
