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"Charley, are you learning this for the first time now?"
"No, sir."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" the President said. "Sometime when we have time, Charles, we can have a long philosophical discussion of what the DNI should, or should not, pass on to the commander-in-chief, but right now all we have time for is dealing with the problem.
"I have come by my intelligence regarding this situation from His Honor the Mayor. It seems that his father, who was, you recall, His Honor the Mayor for a very long time, had a lifelong pal, one Francis "Big Frank" Timmons, who the current mayor told me his father said was one of the only two really honest cops in Chicago.
"The mayor told me that Big Frank Timmons called him and asked him for a favor. The mayor, who was bounced on Big Frank's knees as an infant and calls him 'Uncle Frank,' said 'Name it,' or something like that.
"Big Frank told the mayor that his son Byron-who is a captain on the Chicago Police Force-just had a visit from an official of the Drug Enforcement Administration, who told him that his son, Special Agent Byron J. Timmons, Jr., of the DEA, was missing from his assignment at the U.S. embassy in…whatever the hell the capital city is…in Paraguay…"
"Asuncion," Castillo furnished without thinking.
The President's face showed that he was not very grateful for the information.
"…and that the possibility he had been kidnapped had to be faced, although they had no proof of that."
Castillo exhaled audibly.
"What's with the deep breathing, Charley?" the President asked.
"Pardon me, Mr. President."
"What does it mean, Colonel?" the President demanded coldly.
"Sir, I don't know if the DEA man in Chicago knew this, but the embassy in Asuncion knew the day after Timmons disappeared that he had been kidnapped. They sent a photograph of him, surrounded by men in balaclava masks, and with a garrote around his neck."
"How long have you known about this?" the President asked.
"That Timmons had been kidnapped, about"-he paused and did the arithmetic-"thirty-six hours, Mr. President. I learned about the photograph being sent to the embassy about midnight last night, sir."
"And you, Charles?" the President asked.
"I learned of this incident for the first time last night, Mr. President, when Colonel Castillo did."
"And you, Natalie?"
"I'm hearing about this man…Special Agent Timmons…for the first time now, Mr. President. I'm sure the embassy made a report. I can simply presume it never made it to my desk."
"I guess not," the President said. "Well, it seems that Special Agent Timmons wrote his grandfather-who bounced the mayor on his knee, you will recall-about what was happening down there. He said there have been four such kidnappings. His makes five. So neither he nor Captain Timmons was very much impressed with what the DEA representative had told them. The word they used to describe it, forgive me, Madam Secretary, was 'bullshit.' At that point, Big Frank Timmons called the mayor."
"Mr. President," Montvale said, "just as soon as you're finished with us, I'll get on the telephone to our ambassador in Paraguay."
"No, you won't, Charles," the President said.
"Sir?"
"What I told the mayor was that I have an in-house expert for dealing with matters like this, and just as soon as I could lay my hands on him, I was going to tell him that his first priority was to get Special Agent Timmons back from these bastards."
"Sir, you don't mean Charley?" the secretary of State asked.
"Natalie, who else could I possibly mean?" the President said. But it clearly was more a statement than a question.
"Mr. President," she said, "I don't think that's a very good idea."
"Your objection noted," the President said.
"Mr. President, with all possible respect," Castillo said, "I don't know anything about dealing with something like this."
