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“Hello, Corporate Travel?” Ellsworth then said. “Yes, hi. Brad Benjamin just told me you would know where I can find Roscoe Danton.”
Not sixty seconds after that, he said, “Got it. Thank you,” hung up the phone, and turned to Ambassador Montvale and reported, “Danton went to Buenos Aires. They made a reservation for him at the Marriott Plaza.”
“The Marriott Plaza?” Montvale replied, obviously surprised.
“That’s what they told me. You want me to put in a call to our ambassador?”
“I wouldn’t believe that sonofabitch if he told me what day it is.”
“The CIA station chief, then?”
“Get me John Powell. I’ll have the DCI call the station chief and tell him I’ll be calling.”
Ellsworth told the White House operator to connect the director of National Intelligence with the director of Central Intelligence on a secure line and then pushed the LOUDSPEAKER button and handed the receiver to Montvale.
“Jack, Charles M. Montvale. I want you to give me the name of the station chief in Buenos Aires, and something about him, and then call him and tell him I’ll be calling on an errand for the President.”
“Hang on a second, Charles,” Powell replied.
He came back on the line ninety seconds later.
“Got a little problem, Charles. We had a really good man there, Alex Darby, but he went out the door with Castillo. A kid just out of The Farm has been filling in for Darby, until Bob Lowe, another good man, can clear his desk in Mexico City. I don’t know if Lowe made it down there yet.”
“Well, please call the kid, and tell him I’ll be calling.”
“Clendennen.”
“Charles M. Montvale, Mr. President. I’ve located Mr. Danton. He’s in the Marriott Plaza Hotel in Buenos Aires.”
“That would suggest he knows where Colonel Castillo is, wouldn’t you say?”
“That’s a strong possibility, Mr. President.”
“I presume your next call will be to the ambassador down there.”
“I was thinking of calling the CIA station chief, Mr. President.”
“Okay, your call. That might be best, now that I think of it.”
“There’s a small problem there, Mr. President. The acting station chief is a young man just out of agency training. John Powell just told me that the man he’s sending down there to replace the former station chief, who, sir, fell off the face of the earth with Castillo, has not reported for duty.”
“So what are you planning to do?”
“I thought I would send Truman Ellsworth down there, sir. Just as soon as he can get to Andrews.”
“I dislike micromanagement, Charles, as you know. But if I were in your shoes, I would go down there myself. Take What’s-his-name with you if you like.”
“Yes, sir. That’s probably the right thing to do.”
“It would be better if someone of your stature were the person to suggest to Costello that he would be ill-advised to get anywhere near our little problem. You understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Keep me advised,” President Clendennen said, and Montvale heard the click that signaled the commander in chief had terminated the call.
“I’ll call Andrews and have the plane ready,” Truman Ellsworth said.
Their presidential mission began in a two-GMC-Yukon convoy from the Executive Office Building. The first Secret-Service-agent-driven, black-tinted-window Yukon held the driver; the two Secret Service agents assigned to protect Montvale; and the two assigned to protect Ellsworth. The second Yukon carried Montvale and Ellsworth and everyone’s luggage.
