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United States Army Central Command
MacDill Air Force Base
Tampa, Florida
0730 9 February 2007
“General, General McNab is here,” Colonel J. D. Brewer announced at Naylor’s office door.
“Ask the general to come in, please,” Naylor said.
McNab marched into the office, stopped six feet from Naylor’s desk, raised his right hand to his temple, and said, “Good morning, General. Thank you for receiving me.”
McNab was wearing what was officially the Army Service Uniform but was commonly referred to as “dress blues.” The breast of his tunic was heavy with ribbons and devices showing his military qualifications, including a Combat Infantry Badge topped with circled stars indicating that it was the sixth award; a Master Parachutist’s wings; seven other parachute wings from various foreign armies; and the Navy SEAL qualification badge, commonly called “The Budweiser.” The three silver stars of a lieutenant general gleamed on his epaulets.
Naylor was wearing a camouflage-patterned sandy-colored baggy uniform called Desert Battle Dress Uniform. On it was sewn the insignia of Central Command, the legend US ARMY, a name tag reading NAYLOR, and, attached with Velcro to the button line of his jacket, a strip with four embroidered black (called “subdued”) stars, the insignia of his rank.
Naylor took his time before returning the salute, and after McNab had dropped his hand, took his time again before saying, “You may stand at ease, General. Please take a seat.”
“Thank you, sir,” McNab said as he settled into one of the two leather armchairs before the desk. “I trust the general is well?”
“Just so we understand one another, General, there was an implication you made just now that you were invited here. You were ordered here. There is a difference I think you should keep in mind.”
“Yes, sir. Permission to speak, General?”
“Permission granted.”
“Sir, the general errs. Sir, the general does not have the authority to issue orders to me.”
Naylor blurted, “That’s what you think, McNab!”
“It’s what the chief of staff thinks, General. I telephoned him yesterday following your telephone call. I thought perhaps my status—or your status—had changed and I hadn’t been notified. The chief of staff said there was no change in your status or mine. We are both commanders of units directly subordinate to Headquarters, U.S. Army. The only officer who can give orders to either of us is the chief of staff.”
“You called the chief of staff?” Naylor asked incredulously.
“Yes, sir. And the chief suggested that a way out of this little dilemma would be for me to make a courtesy call on you. Which is what I’m doing now, General.”
Naylor thought: You sonofabitch!
McNab went on: “I got a look at the lieutenant colonel’s promotion list on the way down here, General. And saw that Allan has been selected, below the zone. May I offer my congratulations?”
“Thank you.”
“How may I assist the general, now that I’m here?”
“Prefacing this by stating I am acting at the direct order of the President, you can tell me where I can find Lieutenant Colonel Carlos G. Castillo.”
“The chief of staff didn’t mention that you were working for the President, General. Perhaps he had reasons he did not elect to share with me.”
“Are you questioning my word, General?”
“No, sir. If the general tells me the general is working at the direct order of the President, I will of course take the general’s word.”
“Where can I find Castillo, General?”
“I have no idea, General.”
“You have no idea?”
