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up."
"I thought you weren't going to lose your temper."
"Mark my fucking words, Castillo, you will go to Africa and embarrass the President and the country and me over my dead body. You will not have access to any assets over which I have control--"
"Well, it's always a pleasure to talk to you, Mr. Ambassador," Castillo said. "Break it down, White House." When he heard the click, he said, "Castillo out."
"In about a minute," Casey said, "I suspect a cell phone will start to ring in the Venetian. No one will hear it, because the ringer's been muted. And I wouldn't be a bit surprised if, shortly thereafter, lots of gun-toting guys in bad suits with emission detectors in their ears will start prowling the miles of Venetian corridors. That won't work, as I thought of that and came up with a fix. But was that smart, Charley?"
Castillo looked at him but said nothing.
"Thank you, Carlos," Berezovsky said.
"For what? I told you I'd never turn you over to the agency, and that was before--"
"Before Cupid's arrow struck? No. Thank you for not backing down from that assault. You reminded me of David and Goliath."
Castillo pointed his finger at him. "You shut up." Then he pointed at Casey. "And you deal."
Dona Alicia and Svetlana came into the library fifteen minutes later. They had been watching an old Paul Newman movie on television in the ranch house's main living room. They joined the game.
When they quit playing--just before midnight, when Lester Bradley came in for his watch duty with the AFC--Dona Alicia had won almost twenty dollars and Sweaty had shown that she was a lousy loser by twice throwing her cards angrily on the table and uttering thirty-second recitations of Russian expletives that Castillo was glad Dona Alicia didn't understand. As Castillo stood, he noted on the monitors that the countdown read 50:45:15.
[EIGHT]
0900 13 January 2006
Castillo walked into the library carrying a mug of coffee.
Davidson shook his head and said, "Not a fucking peep, Charley."
Castillo sat at the table.
"I think what you were supposed to say was, 'Good morning, sir. I hope the colonel slept well. I beg to report there have been no reports from any of the reconnaissance parties, sir.' "
Davidson gave him the finger. "Uncle Remus said seventy-two hours, Colonel, sir."
He pointed at the countdown. Castillo saw that it read 41:40:40.
"I think we have a surfeit of precision. Why the hell are we counting in seconds?"
"I don't know. Because we can?"
"Let's wake up the Air Force and see what they're doing to earn all the money the taxpayers are throwing at them," Castillo said. "C. G. Castillo for Colonel Torine. Encryption Level One."
Sexy Susan said: "One moment, please, Colonel."
Davidson's fingers attacked his keyboard.
The monitor Castillo was watching changed its data display. It now showed a three-dimensional picture of the terminal building at Kilimanjaro International Airport, Tanzania. A lightning bolt at the top of the screen began to flash, then the screen showed the local date and time at the airport: 1701 13 JAN 06.
"Back that up, Jack," Castillo said. "Let's have a look at the Congo."
Sexy Susan said: "I have Colonel Torine for you, Colonel. Encryption Level One."
"What's up, Charley?" Jake Torine asked.
"Hold one, Jake," Castillo said.
