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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?”

McNab nodded and then said, “I gave him ninety seconds in the belief that would be sufficient time for him to recover from his fit of hysterical laughter, and called back. Sweaty took the call—”

Sweaty’?” Naylor parroted. “Oh, the Russian woman.”

“Yes, sir. Former Lieutenant Colonel Svetlana Alekseeva of the SVR. Now known as Susanna Barlow. Colonel Castillo’s fiancée.”

“His what? He’s going to marry her?” Naylor asked incredulously.

“Yes, sir. Just as soon as they can somehow get the government of the Russian Federation to declare her former husband, SVR Polkovnik Evgeny Alekseev to be deceased. Colonel Castillo is a gentleman, and gentlemen feel an obligation to marry women carrying their unborn children.”

“She’s pregnant?”

“Yes, sir, I understand that to be the case.”

“McNab, I have the feeling you’re mocking me,” Naylor said furiously.

“As you well know, since our plebe year at Hudson High, just being in the same room with you has induced an uncontrollable urge in me to mock you, even when you’re not in your Self-Righteous Mode, as you are now. But if you can bring yourself to call me Bruce, I will stop doing so now and we can see about solving the problem at hand as two old soldiers and classmates should do.”

Naylor glared at him for a long moment, and finally said, “Please do.” And then, after another pause, added, “Bruce.”

“Allan, I would not have violated Charley’s privacy by telling you that Sweaty’s in the family way, except that it’s obviously a fact bearing on our problem.”

“Understood. Thank you,” Naylor replied, and again added “Bruce” after a pause.

“When Sweaty came on the line, I gathered that she was less than enthusiastic about Charley doing what the President wants him to do. She said if I ever brought the subject up again, she would castrate me with a rusty otxokee mecto nanara.”

“With a what?”

“Latrine shovel.”

“Have you any suggestions on how we can solve our problem?” Naylor asked.

“As a matter of fact… Natalie says the last thing we can afford to happen is for C. Harry Whelan, Junior, or Andy McClarren to wonder what the hell you’re doing in Argentina and start asking questions—”

“I’ve been ordered to go down there,” Naylor interrupted.

“… so you can’t go down there.”

“What’s the alternative?”

“You want it step by step, or all at once?”

“All at once.”

“We’re all agreed on this, Allan. Frank, Natalie, and me.”

“Understood. Let’s hear it.”

“Frank’s Gulfstream comes here and picks up Vic D’Alessandro—”

“I think I see where you’re headed,” Naylor said.

“Stop interrupting me, for Christ’s sake, Allan!”

“Sorry.”

“And picks up Vic D’Alessandro, who is Charley’s oldest friend in Special Operations except for me. When Charley was flying me around in Desert One, Master Sergeant D’Alessandro was on the Gatling gun in the back.”

“I wasn’t aware of that.”

“I guess if you’re the most important general in the world, nobody can tell you to shut up.”

“Sorry,” Naylor said, and then, “I mean it. I’m sorry, Bruce, please go on.”

“And Charley’s oldest friend,” McNab went on.

Naylor opened his mouth to ask what was meant by that, but with a massive effort didn’t speak.

McNab pointed at Lieutenant Colonel Allan B. Naylor.

“They’ve been buddies since they were in short pants in that school in Fulda…”

“Saint Johan’s,” Lieutenant Colonel Naylor furnished.

“Unfortunately, Colonel, you’re apparently a chip off the old blockhead,” McNab said. “Shut up. When I want input from you, I’ll tell you.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

“That was when Charley was only Karl Wilhelm von und zu Gossinger. Later, when he had also become that famous Texican — one Carlos Guillermo Castillo — Junior here followed him to West Point. Most recently, he was involved — on the fringes, to be sure, but involved — in Charley’s brief but successful incursion in the People’s Democratic Republic of Venezuela.

“Vic and Junior are, Natalie, Frank, and I feel, the ideal people to tell Charley all sides of the story. The three of us also feel that it is only fair to offer Charley the advice of fellow Outlaws we feel he might wish to bring with him, should he decide to go on active duty. People he trusts almost as much as he trusts Sweaty, who therefore may be able to overcome Sweaty’s rather firm position.