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By the time they got to Washington, Yung had figured out a likely scenario to explain the money, and why they had been attacked at the estancia: Dr. Lorimer--by now identified as the bagman for oil-for-food bribes and payoffs--had stolen the sixteen million bucks from his as-yet-unidentified employers.
These people had kidnapped Lorimer's sister--Mrs. J. Winslow Masterson--then murdered her husband before her eyes to impress upon her that they were quite serious about being willing to kill her and her children unless she told them where in hell they could find Lorimer and their sixteen million. But she hadn't told them because she didn't know.
The bad guys had found Estancia Shangri-La by themselves.
That they arrived there to reclaim their money and eliminate Lorimer ten minutes after Castillo's covert team had arrived to repatriate Lorimer was pure coincidence. Not to mention damn bad luck.
"They didn't expect to find anything at the estancia, Mr. President, but Dr. Lorimer and the sixteen million dollars in bearer bonds," Castillo had explained the next day in the presidential apartment in the White House.
"Surprise, surprise, huh?" the President replied. "You have no idea who these people were, Charley?"
"I don't think they were South American bandits, Mr. President. But aside from that--"
"Find out who they are, Major," the President interrupted, "and render them harmless."
Castillo noted that he'd been formally addressed. And, as such, so ordered.
"Yes, sir."
"Anything else, Charley?"
"Mr. President, what do we do with the money?"
"Sixteen million, right? Where is it? Are you sure you can cash those bearer bonds?"
"Sir, to make sure we could retain control of money, we already have. It's now in the Riggs Bank."
"I'm not going to get involved with dirty money," the President said. "You understand that, of course?"
"Yes, of course, Mr. President."
"But on the subject of money, and apropos of nothing else, Charley . . ."
"Yes, sir?"
"I funded OOA with two million from my discretionary funds. That's really not very much money, and I have a good idea of how expensive your operations are. Sooner or later, you're going to have to come to me for more money, and right now I just don't see how it will be available. It's something to keep in mind."
"Sir, are you suggesting--?"
"Major, I have no idea what you're talking about. What sixteen million?"
Thus was established the Lorimer Charitable & Benevolent Fund, with an initial donation the next day of nearly sixteen million dollars from an anonymous well-wisher.
On the same day, David W. Yung, Jr., and Corporal Lester Bradley were placed on indefinite temporary duty with the OOA.
At the time, there was only one true volunteer in the ranks of the OOA, essentially because very few people had even heard of it. Sergeant Major John K. "Jack" Davidson had learned of OOA from Corporal Bradley, whom Castillo, perhaps unwisely, had sent to Camp Mackall--the Special Forces/Delta Force training base near Fort Bragg, North Carolina--"for training" but actually to get him out of sight--and out of truthfully answering questions from his gunny and any other superior--short-term until Castillo could figure out what to do with him long-term.
Davidson's function at Mackall was to evaluate students to see if they were psychologically and physically made up to justify their expensive training to become special operators. He had taken one look at nineteen-year-old Corporal Bradley--who stood five-four and weighed one thirty-two--then decided that someone with a sick sense of humor had sent the boy to Mackall as a joke.
Davidson put Bradley to work pushing the keys on a computer.
The next day, Lieutenant General Bruce J. McNab, commanding general of the John F. Kennedy Center for Special Warfare, disabused Davidson of this notion that whatever the kid was, he was no warrior.
The general had choppered out to Mackall to take Corporal Bradley to Sergeant Krantz's burial at Arlington National Cemetery. Davidson had no Need to Know, of course, but he and General McNab had been around several blocks together, and so the general told him what had happened to Krantz on Charley Castillo's ad hoc assault, and how, had it not been for Corporal Bradley's offhand hundred-yard head shots, Charley would be awaiting his own interment services at Arlington alongside Krantz.
Davidson, as he reminded General McNab, also had been around the block several times with Charley Castillo. He further reminded General McNab that the general knew as well as he did that while Charley was a splendid officer, he tended sometimes to do things that he would not do if he had a sober, experienced advisor, such as Davidson, at his side to counsel him.
General McNab, who first met Castillo when Castillo had been a second lieutenant, and who thus had been around the block with him on many occasions, considered this and agreed.
