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“Like Supervisory Agent Mulligan told me to, I got him on the radio, and he said to come here. That you wanted to talk to me.”
“And I did indeed. You did very well, Agent . . . what did you say your name was?”
“Douglas, Mr. President. Special Agent Mark Douglas.”
“Special Agent Douglas, would you wait outside for a moment? I may have a few more questions.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. President.”
Supervisory Special Agent Mulligan followed Douglas to the door and closed it after Douglas had gone through it.
“Special Agent Douglas is not a nuclear physicist, is he?” the President said. “How the hell did he get in the Secret Service?”
“He was a New Jersey state trooper, Mr. President,” Mulligan said. “He’s not too swift, I admit. But he’s reliable.”
“I was thinking he might be useful, now that we know what I suspected was going on is going on. And they don’t seem to care that I know, do they? Montvale himself, that sonofabitch, and Cohen—I’m a gentleman and I won’t say out loud what I think of her—actually took those Special Forces people to Arlington.”
He paused and shook his head as if in disbelief, and then went on: “Where they walked out before I made my remarks. An insult, and they damn well knew it. Goddamn! And they had Colonel Castillo with them. That was him, right?”
“Yes, sir, that was Castillo. And Colonel Torine was there, too.”
“Mulligan,” Clemens McCarthy asked, “who is this German man? What’s his involvement in this?”
“His real name is Castillo, Clemens,” the President answered for him. “Or maybe his real name is Goldfinger, or whatever Mulligan’s rocket scientist said. As to his involvement in what’s going on, he’s up to his ears in it. He probably thinks President Montvale will make him director of National Intelligence. Or secretary of Defense.
“But back to my original thought. Do you agree, Mulligan, that your man, who looks to me like he has a strong back, takes orders, and can keep his mouth shut, would be useful to us?”
“Yes, I do, Mr. President.”
“Well, then, get him back in here. And see if Schmidt is out there.”
“Director Schmidt is out there, Mr. President,” Mulligan replied. “I saw him just now. You want him to come in?”
“When I’m through with Dumbo,” the President said.
“Yes, Mr. President?” Special Agent Douglas said.
“Your first name is Mark, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Would you mind if I called you that?”
“I’d be honored, Mr. President, sir.”
“Well, Mark, Supervisory Special Agent Mulligan tells me that he’s had his eye on you for some time, and Mr. McCarthy agrees with me that you did a fine job today, showing high intelligence, discretion, and perseverance.”
Special Agent Douglas’s face colored.
“And we need someone with those characteristics around here, right around me,” Clendennen said. “The first thing I require of people in my intimate circle, Mark, is loyalty. Or, phrased another way, I absolutely cannot stand disloyalty. You can have the other things I mentioned, but if loyalty is not your strong point . . .”
“I can understand that, Mr. President,” Douglas said.
“Supervisory Special Agent Mulligan tells me he thinks you have that loyalty, understand the need for it. So I’m going to take a chance on you.”
“Yes, sir?”
“From this moment, Mark, you are relieved of all your normal duties. You will be reporting directly to Supervisory Special Agent Mulligan, who will explain to you what your duties will be. Now—and this is important, Mark—for a number of reasons we want to keep your special assignment from becoming public knowledge. I’m sure you can understand that.”
