"Sandor Tor, director of security of the Tages Zeitung," Sandor said as he reached down and pulled Eric Kocian erect.
"What are you doing?" the sergeant said.
"I'm taking Ur Kocian to the hospital."
"An ambulance is on the way."
"I can't wait. Take that slime to the station and I'll come there," Tor said.
He half carried the old man to the Mercedes, hoping the sergeant was not going to give him trouble.
"I'll meet you at the Szent Janos Korhaz," the sergeant said.
"Fine," Tor said.
I'll worry about that later.
The old man crawled into the backseat. Max got in and jumped on the seat and started to lick his face.
Sandor closed the door and then got behind the wheel.
"Take Max to Dr. Kincs first," the old man ordered.
"You're going to the hospital first. I'll take care of Max."
"Not one goddamned word of this is to get to Otto Gorner, you understand?"
At that moment, Tor had just finished deciding that he would call Gorner the moment the doctors started to work on the old man at the Telki Private Hospital.
"I'm not sure I can do that, Ur Kocian. He'll have to know sometime."
"I'll call him as I soon as I can. I'll tell him I fell down the stairs. Fell over Max and then down the stairs. He'll believe that."
"Why can't I tell him?"
"Because he would immediately get in the way of me getting the bastards who did this to me."
"You know who they are?"
"I've got a pretty good goddamned idea. They know I've been nosing around. They want to know how much I know about the oil-for-food outrage. Why do you think they tried to kidnap me?"
"Kidnap you?"
"The sonofabitch who came after me on the bridge had a hypodermic needle."
"A hypodermic needle?" Tor parroted.
"It's in my jacket pocket," the old man said. "When we get to the hospital, take it and find out what it is."
"They were going to drug you?"
"They only started shooting after Max and I grabbed the bastard on the bridge. Jesus Christ, Sandor, do you need a map? They were going to take me someplace to see what I know and where my evidence is. When they had that, then they were going to put me in the Danube."
"Where is your evidence?"
"In my apartment."
"Where in your apartment?"
"If I told you, then you'd know," the old man said. "Someplace safe."
"You don't want to tell me?"
"No. Can't you drive any faster? I'm getting a little woozy."
A moment later, Sandor looked in the backseat.
The old man was unconscious. Max was standing over him, gently licking his face as if trying to wake him.
Sandor turned and looked forward again, and thought, Please, God, don't let him die!
He pushed another autodial button on the cellular, praying it was the right one.
"Telki Private Hospital."
"I'm bringing an injured man to the emergency room. Be waiting for me," Tor ordered.
Five minutes later, he pulled the Mercedes up at the emergency entrance of the Telki Private Hospital. A gurney, a doctor, and a nurse were outside the door.
Tor helped the doctor get the old man on the gurney.
"He's been shot," the doctor announced.
"I know," Tor said.
The doctor gave him a strange look, then started to push the gurney into the hospital.
Tor put his arm around the dog.
"You can't go, Max," he said.
Max strained to follow the gurney but allowed Tor to restrain him.
Tor looked at his watch. It was two twenty-five. [TWO] Estancia Shangri-La Tacuarembo Province Republica Oriental del Uruguay 2225 31 July 2005 At almost precisely that moment in real time-by the clock, it is four hours later in Budapest than it is in Uruguay-a U.S. Army Special Forces medic, Sergeant Robert Kensington, who had been kneeling over a stocky blond man in his forties and examining his wound, stood up and announced: "You're going to be all right, Colonel. There's some muscle damage that's going to take some time to heal, and you're going to hurt like hell for a long time every time you move-for that matter, breathe. I can take the bullet out now, if you'd like."
"I think I'll wait until I get to a hospital," Colonel Alfredo Munz said.
Until very recently, Munz had been the director of SIDE, the Argentine organization that combines the functions of the American FBI and CIA.
There were three other men in the room, the study of the sprawling "big house" of Estancia Shangri-La. One of them-a some what squat, completely bald very black man of forty-six-was lying in a pool of his own blood near Colonel Munz, dead of 9mm bullet wounds to the mouth and forehead. He had been Dr. Jean-Paul Lorimer, an American who had been a United Nations diplomat stationed in Paris and who had taken some pains to establish a second identity for himself in Uruguay as Jean-Paul Bertrand, a Lebanese national and dealer in antiquities. Eighteen days earlier, on July thirteenth, Dr. Jean-Paul Lorimer had gone missing in Paris. A week later, his sister, who was married to J. Winslow Masterson, the chief of mission of the U.S. embassy in Buenos Aires, Argentina, had been kidnapped from the parking lot of a restaurant in San Isidro, an upscale Buenos Aires suburb.
The President of the United States, suspecting the kidnapping had something to do with international terrorism and wanting to know what was going on without that information having to be slowly filtered through State Department and intelligence channels, had sent to Buenos Aires a personal agent-an Army officer serving as executive assistant to the secretary of Homeland Security.
Major C. G. Castillo had arrived in Buenos Aires on July twenty-second. The next morning, El Coronel Alfredo Munz of SIDE informed the American ambassador that Mr. Masterson had been found in a taxi on the riverfront, drugged and sitting beside the body of her husband, who had been shot before her eyes.
The President had been enraged. He telephoned Ambassador Juan Manuel Silvio to personally tell him that he was placing Major Castillo in charge of both the investigation of the kidnapping and murder and of the protection of Mr. Masterson and her children until they were safely returned to the United States.
When the Air Force Globemaster III carrying Masterson's family and remains-and the remains of a Marine Guard sergeant, who had been murdered when driving a female Secret Service agent away from the Masterson residence-touched down at Keesler Air Force Base in Mississippi on July twenty-fifth, Air Force One and the President of the United States were waiting for it.
The President sent for Major Castillo. Just before he got off the Globemaster to go aboard Air Force One, Mr. Masterson told Major Castillo that her kidnappers wanted to know where her brother was hiding and that they would kill her children if she didn't tell them. They had murdered her husband to make the point the threat was serious. Mr. Masterson told Castillo that she had absolutely no idea where Jean-Paul Lorimer was or why the kidnappers were after him.
When Castillo reported to the President aboard Air Force One, the President showed him the document he and Secretary of State Natalie Cohen had just made law:
TOP SECRET-PRESIDENTIAL
IT HAS BEEN FOUND THAT THE ASSASSINATION OF J. WINSLOW MASTERSON, CHIEF OF MISSION OF THE UNITED STATES EMBASSY IN BUENOS AIRES, ARGENTINA; THE ABDUCTION OF Mr. MASTERSON'S WIFE, Mr. ELIZABETH LORIMER MASTERSON; THE ASSASSINATION OF SERGEANT ROGER MARKHAM, USMC; AND THE ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF SECRET SERVICE SPECIAL AGENT ELIZABETH T. SCHNEIDER INDICATES BEYOND ANY REASONABLE DOUBT THE EXISTENCE OF A CONTINUING PLOT OR PLOTS BY TERRORISTS, OR TERRORIST ORGANIZATIONS, TO CAUSE SERIOUS DAMAGE TO THE INTERESTS OF THE UNITED STATES, ITS DIPLOMATIC OFFICERS, AND ITS CITIZENS, AND THAT THIS SITUATION CANNOT BE TOLERATED. IT IS FURTHER FOUND THAT THE EFFORTS AND ACTIONS TAKEN AND TO BE TAKEN BY THE SEVERAL BRANCHES OF THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT TO DETECT AND APPREHEND THOSE INDIVIDUALS WHO COMMITTED THE TERRORIST ACTS PREVIOUSLY DESCRIBED, AND TO PREVENT SIMILAR SUCH ACTS IN THE FUTURE, ARE BEING AND WILL BE HAMPERED AND RENDERED LESS EFFECTIVE BY STRICT ADHERENCE TO APPLICABLE LAWS AND REGULATIONS. IT IS THEREFORE FOUND THAT CLANDESTINE AND COVERT ACTION UNDER THE SOLE SUPERVISION OF THE PRESIDENT IS NECESSARY. IT IS DIRECTED AND ORDERED THAT THERE IMMEDIATELY BE ESTABLISHED A CLANDESTINE AND COVERT ORGANIZATION WITH THE MISSION OF DETERMINING THE IDENTITY OF THE TERRORISTS INVOLVED IN THE ASSASSINATIONS, ABDUCTION, AND ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION PREVIOUSLY DESCRIBED AND TO RENDER THEM HARMLESS. AND TO PERFORM SUCH OTHER COVERT AND CLANDESTINE ACTIVITIES AS THE PRESIDENT MAY ELECT TO ASSIGN. FOR PURPOSES OF CONCEALMENT, THE AFOREMENTIONED CLANDESTINE AND COVERT ORGANIZATION WILL BE KNOWN AS THE OFFICE OF ORGANIZATIONAL ANALYSIS, WITHIN THE DEPARTMENT OF HOMELAND SECURITY. FUNDING WILL INITIALLY BE FROM DISCRETIONAL FUNDS OF THE OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT. THE MANNING OF THE ORGANIZATION WILL BE DECIDED BY THE PRESIDENT, ACTING ON THE ADVICE OF THE CHIEF, OFFICE OF ORGANIZATIONAL ANALYSIS. MAJOR CARLOS G. CASTILLO, SPECIAL FORCES, U.S. ARMY, IS HEREWITH APPOINTED CHIEF, OFFICE OF ORGANIZATIONAL ANALYSIS, WITH IMMEDIATE EFFECT. SIGNED: