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"Which was?" Major Miller inquired.
"That if I had to fly the right seat of a Gulfstream," Sparkman offered, "I'd rather fly Colonel Torine's."
"Ah ha!" Lieutenant Colonel Castillo s
aid for the third time, then looked at Major Miller, who paused a moment for thought and then shrugged.
"Tell me, Captain," Castillo said. "Is there any pressing business, personal or official, which would keep you from going to Buenos Aires first thing in the morning?"
"I'm on the board for a flight to Saint Louis at 0830, sir."
"Jake, call out there and tell them the captain will be otherwise occupied," Castillo said, and then turned to Sparkman. "Prefacing this with the caveat that anything you hear, see, or intuit from this moment on is classified Top Secret Presidential, the disclosure of which will see you punished by your castration with a very dull knife, plus imprisonment for the rest of your natural life, let me welcome you to the Office of Organizational Analysis, where you will serve as our most experienced Gulfstream jockey and perform such other duties as may be required."
"Just like that?" Sparkman blurted.
"Just like that, Dick," Torine said, chuckling.
"Go pack a bag with enough civvies--you won't need your uniform--for a week, and then come back here," Castillo ordered. "Major Miller here will run you through our in-processing procedures."
At the safe house in Alexandria, Castillo cut his end of the cellular telephone connection with Torine, put the telephone in his trousers pocket, then picked up the handset of another secure telephone on his office desk. He pushed one key on the base and said, "C. G. Castillo."
It took a second or two--no more--for the voice-recognition circuitry to function, flashing the caller's name before the White House operator.
"White House," the pleasant young female operator's voice said. "Merry Christmas, Colonel Castillo."
"Merry Christmas to you, too. Can you get me Ambassador Montvale on a secure line, please?"
The rule was that those people given access to the special White House switchboard circuit were expected to answer their telephones within sixty seconds. Charles W. Montvale, former deputy secretary of State, former secretary of the Treasury, former ambassador to the European Union, and currently United States director of National Intelligence, took twenty-seven seconds to come on the line.
"Charles Montvale," he said. His voice was deep, cultured, and charming.
"Merry Christmas, Mr. Ambassador. Colonel Castillo for you," the White House operator told him. "The line is secure."
Castillo picked up on the ambassador's failure to return the operator's Christmas greetings.
"Merry Christmas and a very happy New Year, Mr. Ambassador," Castillo said cheerfully.
The ambassador did not respond in kind, but instead said, "Actually, I was about to call you, Charley."
"Mental telepathy, sir?"
"Does the name Kurt Kuhl mean anything to you, Colonel?"
Montvale's tone, and the use of Castillo's rank, suggested that Montvale was displeased with him. Again. As usual.
There is an exception, so they say, to every absolute statement. The exception to the absolute statement that the director of National Intelligence exercised authority over everyone and everything in the intelligence community was the Office of Organizational Analysis, which answered only to the commander in chief.
Ambassador Montvale found this both absurd and unacceptable, but had been unable to take OOA under his wing beyond an agreement with Castillo that he would be informed in a timely fashion of what Castillo was up to.
On Castillo's part this meant it was frequently necessary to remind the director of National Intelligence of the great difference between Castillo telling Montvale about taking some action and Castillo asking Montvale's permission--or even Montvale's advice--about taking some action.
"No, sir. It doesn't ring a bell. Who is he?"
There was a perceptible pause before Montvale replied: "Kuhl was a deep-cover CIA asset in Vienna and elsewhere in that part of the world."
"Past tense?"
"I was informed an hour or so ago that he and his wife were found garroted to death behind the Johann Strauss statue in the Stadtpark in Vienna yesterday."
