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It took some doing, but Sparkman was an enterprising young officer, and within a few days, he learned that Colonel Torine had been assigned to some outfit called the Office of Organizational Analysis, which was under the Department of Homeland Security, which had its offices in the Nebraska Avenue Complex in Washington.
When Sparkman went there, though, the security guard denied any knowledge of any Colonel Torine or of any Office of Organizational Analysis.
Which of course really got Sparkman's attention. And so he took a chance: "You get on that phone and tell Colonel Torine that Captain Richard Sparkman has to see him now on a matter of great importance."
The security guard considered that for a long moment, then picked up his telephone. Sparkman couldn't hear what he said, but a minute later, an elevator door opened, and a muscular man, who might as well have had Federal Special Agent tattooed on his forehead, got off.
"Captain Sparkman?"
Sparkman nodded.
"ID, please, sir."
Sparkman gave it to him. He studied it carefully, then waved Sparkman onto the elevator.
Colonel Torine, in civilian clothing, was waiting for the elevator when it stopped on the top floor.
"Okay," Torine said to the agent. "Thanks." He offered his hand to Sparkman. "Long time no see, Lieutenant. Come on in."
"Actually, sir, it's captain."
"Well, sooner or later they finally get to the bottom of the barrel, don't they?"
Torine had an impressive office. Behind a massive wooden desk were three flags: the national colors, the Air Force flag, and one that Sparkman had never seen before but correctly guessed was that of the Department of Homeland Security.
Torine sat in a red leather judge's chair. He waved Sparkman into one of two leather-upholstered chairs before his desk.
"Okay . . . Dick, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"What's the matter of great importance?"
"Sir, I thought maybe you could use a co-pilot for your Gulfstream."
Torine's eyebrows rose, but he didn't speak for a long moment.
"How do you know about the Gulfstream?" he asked finally.
"I saw you doing a walkaround at Andrews, sir."
Torine shook his head.
"Make a note, Captain. You never saw me with a Gulfstream at Andrews or anywhere else."
"Yes, sir."
"Still driving a gunship, are you, Sparkman?"
"No, sir. I'm flying the right seat of mostly C-20s for the Presidential Airlift Group."
"How did you get a soft billet like that?"
"Over my strongest objections, sir."
"How much Gulfstream time do you have?"
"Pushing six hundred hours, sir."
