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He looked at Bustamante, and said, "Repeat after me, 'Technical Sergeant Bustamante.'"
"Technical Sergeant Bustamante," Bustamante began, then quickly added, "Thank you, Colonel, for all those very kind things you have said about me. While I'm normally a modest-"
"Sufficient data," the artificial voice broke in. "System recognizes"-and Bustamante's voice added-"Technical Sergeant Bustamante."
"Wiseass," Castillo said.
"Okay, Agnes, they're on. The communicator will be able to help you pick what data to send down."
"I wasn't going over there by myself."
"If they say something about the radio, tell them to check with Montvale. But don't let it out of your hands. Entirely separate from this, those NSA guys would really like a look at the encryption circuits."
"I will guard it as I would my virtue."
"That's the best you can do?" Castillo said with mock shock.
There was a moment's silence, then Agnes said, with laughter in her voice, "Screw you, Charley!"
"Break it down, Lester."
"Okay," Castillo said. "In the morning, Lester, Max, and I are going to go to Buenos Aires. Lorimer and Mullroney are going to go to the embassy and nose around, half for show, half to see if they can come up with something."
Lorimer and Mullroney nodded.
Castillo went on: "Colonel Munz will do whatever he thinks makes the most sense. You two will start writing the ops order, based on what you know and what intel we get from the satellite or anybody else. Number them. Whenever one is complete, based on what you have, send it to me. To the safe house. There's a radio there, and probably some others have caught up with us by now. Between now and oh dark hundred-I want to leave as early as possible; it's a long way to Buenos Aire
s-Lester will check you out on the radio and procedures. Any questions?"
Heads shook.
"Good. Let's go."
[THREE]
Nuestra Pequena Casa
Mayerling Country Club
Pilar, Buenos Aires Province, Argentina 1345 12 September 2005 "Duffy and D'Elia just came in the gate," Susanna Sieno announced as she hung up a telephone in the quincho.
"If I were not a modest man, I would say we are about to blow the comandante's mind," Castillo said.
"This is pretty impressive stuff, Charley," Susanna said.
"I meant with our drapes," he said, gesturing toward drapes now closed over the plateglass windows. "Lavender and pink stripes, with gold highlights. Really chic!"
She gave him the finger.
"Next time, you buy them," she said. "More important, you look soulfully into the eyes of the drapes-hanger, or whatever the hell he's called, to get him to hang them right now, not manana sometime."
The lavender-and-pink-striped drapes-with gold highlights-were thick enough to shut out all light from the outside and, of course, ensured that no one could see into the quincho.
The quincho was now the command post, at least for the time being, for what had been jokingly dubbed Operation GGT-Go Get Timmons.
Four sixty-four-inch flat-screen LCD television monitors sat on a low table against the new drapes.
One was tuned to the Fox News Channel, with the sound barely audible.
