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"Why do you say that?"
"When I got here, he had men waiting for me. He knew I was coming, which means he has someone in the U.S. embassy in Asuncion."
"Someone in your embassy knew you were coming?"
"That's another whole story."
"I should know it, if I'm to help," Pevsner said.
That's really none of his business.
But why not tell him?
Maybe he can fill in the blanks.
"As I understand it, Alek, the drugs are moved to the United States with fresh meat shipped from Ezeiza by air to Jamaica-maybe on your airplanes, although I don't expect you to fess up about that."
"My airplanes make a number of such flights, sometimes every other day," Pevsner said, somewhat indignantly. "But the pilots will not take off until they have in their hand documents from Argentine customs stating that the sealed and locked containers they are carrying have passed customs inspection. There may well be drugs in those containers, but I don't know about it, and neither does anyone who works for me. And my people know what happens to people who do what I have told them not to do."
"Okay. I believe you"-Strangely enough, I do, especially the part about what happens to people who do what you've told them not to-"but in Jamaica, they are loaded aboard cruise ships and smuggled into the United States from the cruise ships. The CIA station chief in the Asuncion embassy, and maybe the head man from the DEA, has been setting up an operation to seize the cruise ships under international law, which permits the seizure of ships whose owners collude in the shipment of drugs-"
"You believe this story?" Pevsner interrupted.
"What I know is that a CIA guy heard I was being sent down here to grab Timmons and looked me up to tell me-Timmons be damned-that he would be unhappy if my operation interfered with his."
"And you were sent down here anyway? One drug agent is worth more than seizing a cruise ship?"
"To answer the second question first, yeah, Alek, in my book one drug agent is worth more than a cruise ship. And, what's really interesting here, the director of the CIA and his deputy don't know anything about the ship-seizing operation."
"I find that hard to believe."
"I believe that. But that operation smells somehow."
"You don't have any idea what's going on?"
"No. But to get back to the Evil Leprechaun: I told you the only way that he could have known I was coming down here was that he has somebody in the Asuncion embassy close to either the CIA station chief or the head of the DEA there. There's no question in my mind that the CIA guy who came to me in Washington-after I told him I didn't care about his operation; I was going to get Timmons back-warned the CIA guy in Asuncion that I was coming."
"With the Delta Force people and the helicopters?"
Castillo shook his head. "He didn't know that. And I don't think he's found out. But the Evil Leprechaun told me he had word that there were people intent on whacking me and the people with me. I believe him."
"You don't mean your own CIA people?"
Castillo shrugged, meaning he didn't know.
"Duffy tried to bluff me," Castillo went on, "to get back to your original, original question. He threatened to have me kicked out of the country within twenty-four hours unless I put myself and my assets under his command."
"He knew about the helicopters and-what did you call them?-'the shooters'?"
Castillo nodded as he sipped his single-malt.
"He didn't then," he explained. "I told him this morning, after I called his bluff. He backed down. I don't think he would have backed down from his threat if the government-hell, even his boss in the gendarmeria-knew about the massacre he's planning."
"Why did you tell him anything?"
"Because I need his help in getting the helicopters up there around Asuncion where I can stage them, and to find out where these people have Timmons."
"You trust him?"
