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what did the director of Central Intelligence tell you, General, on your trusty CaseyBerry?” General Naylor asked.
General Naylor had seen CaseyBerrys function often enough to be familiar with their capabilities. He knew, too, that while Mr. Lammelle and General McNab, and McNab’s executive secretary, and Secretary Cohen—and others—had one, he didn’t.
This annoyed him greatly, and his annoyance spilled over into lost temper, as it often did when he was dealing with General McNab.
“Perhaps why I don’t have a CaseyBerry?”
“Yes, sir. He touched on that subject.”
“And what did he say?”
“If memory serves, sir, and mine usually does, he said something like, quote, Thank God, Naylor doesn’t have a CaseyBerry. If he did, he would have known where Charley is, and would have told our Loony Tune Commander in Chief, and we would really be up the creek on this. End quote. That is just about verbatim, sir.”
“He actually referred to the President in those terms?”
“Well, he knew that no one who would hear him would disagree with his characterization of President Clendennen.”
“And what do you think Mr. Lammelle meant when he said if the President knew where Castillo is, we would be…”
“‘Really up the creek on this’?”
“Yes.”
“DCI Lammelle feels, sir, and I agree with him, that disabusing the President of his notion to re-involve Castillo in the drug wars and involving him in the piracy problem is not going to be possible. So what he suggests, and Secretary Cohen concurs, is that we give the appearance of going along with it, until the President tires of it, whereupon he will come up with another nutty idea and forget this one.”
“Go on.”
“DCI Lammelle suggested that if you, he, Natalie Cohen, and I gave Colonel Castillo our word that he would not be loaded on an Aeroflot airplane and shipped to Siberia, he might be induced to appear to have answered the President’s call to hazardous duty.
“He would go to Mexico and, after reconnoitering the situation there, offer a solution to the drug problem that the President would feel was unsatisfactory.”
“Which would be?”
“I’m sure the general is aware of the scurrilous rumor circulating that the unofficial motto of Special Forces is ‘Kill everybody and let God sort it out.’”
“I’ve heard that,” Naylor said.
He thought that over for a long moment and then said, “That just might work.”
“We have a problem there, I’m afraid,” McNab said.
“Why? As long as the President thinks his orders are being obeyed, he’ll be less prone to order any additional action. If he can be stalled, so to speak, for sufficient time—”
“The problem is once again, sir, Lieutenant Colonel Castillo, Retired.”
“How so?”
“I spoke to him about an hour ago—”
“Amazing device, that CaseyBerry, isn’t it?” General Naylor interrupted.
“Yes, sir, it is. I outlined the parameters of the situation to Colonel Castillo, sir, and asked him how he would react to the suggestion that he accept a recall to active hazardous duty for a period not to exceed ninety days.”
“And what did he say?”
“He broke the connection without saying anything, sir.”
“He hung up on you?”
