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"Well, sir, the President was waiting for the Globemaster at Biloxi with a finding he had just made…" "… And that's about it, sir," Castillo concluded twenty minutes later.

Silvio, obviously considering what he had heard, didn't reply for a moment.

"My Latin blood took over for a moment," he said. "The first thing I thought was sympathy for Betsy Masterson and Ambassador Lorimer. To learn that your brother and your son was not only involved in that slimy oil-for-food business, but-indirectly, perhaps, but certainly-responsible for the murder of your husband and son. And the murder of a very nice young Marine. And the wounding of…"

He stopped and looked at Castillo. "I'll understand if you'd rather not answer this. Is Dr. Lorimer on your list you intend to 'render harmless'?"

"What I intend to do with him, sir, is take him to the States. Alive."

Silvio nodded.

"I'm sure he could be a cornucopia of interesting information," he said. "But that won't keep Ambassador Lorimer and Betsy from having to learn what a despicable sonofabitch he is, will it?"

"Sir, I'm ashamed to say I never even thought about that before. What I want Lorimer to do is point me in the direction of those who murdered Mr. Masterson. They're the ones I have been ordered to render harmless. Both Santini and Darby tell me the most likely scenario once I get him to the States is for him to be taken into the Witness Protection Program, which is run by the U.S. Marshal's service, in exchange for his cooperation."

Silvio grunted. "And if he doesn't choose to cooperate?"

"I think he will, sir. He knows that people are looking for him. And he'll understand, I think, that if we can find him, the people trying to find him to kill him- torture and kill him-can also find him. And I've had the fey notion that one thing I could tell him, to get him to cooperate, would be to threaten to take him back to Paris and turn him loose on the Place de la Concorde."

"After making sure Le Monde, Le Figaro, and L'Humanite are informed that the missing UN diplomat can be found there? I don't think that's a fey notion at all; that makes a good deal of sense."

"I didn't think about telling the newspapers," Castillo admitted.

"Is there anything I can do to help, Charley?"

"Would you be willing to call Ambassador McGrory and tell him the reason I didn't go to see him?"

"He wanted to see you?"

"He doesn't know what Yung is really doing in Montevideo…"

"And therefore feels he has the right to know what Yung is doing? Especially with you? What the telephone call from Secretary Cohen was really about?"

"Yes, sir. He told Yung if I went to Yung without going through the embassy first to tell me he wanted to see me immediately. I don't think he has to know about the finding. I'd like to leave him in a position where he can truthfully say he knew nothing about this. Either what I'm going to do, or what Yung has been doing."

"I understand. I'll call him as soon as I get back to the embassy."

"Thank you."

"He's going to be curious-from his standpoint, he has a right to know-what Yung's role in what you're going to do is going to be. Or, past tense, was. Can I tell him that after you're gone?"

"Yung's not going to have a role in what I'm going to do."

"Okay," Silvio responded. "That answers that, doesn't it?"

What's that look on Silvio's face mean?

That he doesn't believe Yung won't be involved?

That he's surprised that he won't be?

That he doesn't like me keeping McGrory, a fellow ambassador, in the dark, to pick up the pieces after I screw up?

"Sir… there was a look on your face. Did something I said make you uncomfortable?"

"I guess I don't have the poker face good diplomats are supposed to have," Silvio replied. "And I certainly have no expertise in your area. But I was surprised that you're not going to use Yung and then take him out of the country when you leave."

"Why?"

"Well, for one thing, won't his position with AmbassadorMcGrory be compromised? McGrory will soon learn that Yung wasn't what he believed him to be. And since you're not going to tell him that you're operating with the authority of a Presidential Finding, I'm sure he'll go to the State Department with that. I would, in his shoes. Absent a Presidential Finding, an ambassador is responsible for anything any government agency is doing in his country. And has veto power over any action proposed. He's not even going to know about this until it's over. He's going to be more than a little annoyed."

"Yes, sir. I know. What I'm trying to do is leave the ambassador in a position where he truthfully can deny any knowledge of what I plan to do. Or did."

"I understand. What I did was presume that you would take Yung with you, taking advantage of his expertise, and then take him out of the country when you left. And that, once your mission was accomplished, the secretary would tell Ambassador McGrory there were reasons for what had happened, and that she had decided it was best that he not be cognizant of those reasons. He wouldn't like it, but he would understand."

"And if I don't take Yung with me, and Yung obeys my orders to tell McGrory nothing-I threatened him with the felony provisions of violating Top Secret- Presidential material, so I think he would keep his mouth shut-McGrory would blow his top?"

"And a number of senior officials in the State Department who have no legitimate reason to know, would know that something had gone on in Uruguay…"

"And be curious and ask questions that shouldn't be asked," Castillo finished for him. "Which questions would come to-be leaked to-the Washington Post and the New York Times and other President-haters."

Silvio nodded.

"With all the ramifications of that," Castillo added.

"I'm sure you've thought of the risks involved, Charley. I'm not trying to tell you your business."

"The truth is I didn't think about it all," Castillo confessed. "Mr. Ambassador, you just kept me from making a stupid mistake. A serious mistake. Thank you." Then he blurted, "You know what Ambassador Montvale said about me?"

Silvio shook his head.

"Montvale said that I am someone 'who was given more authority than he clearly will be able to handle.' It looks like he's right on the money, doesn't it?"

"From what I've seen, Charley, you handle the authority you've been given very well."

"I'm so drunk with my authority that it never even entered my mind to ask you what you thought about what I'm going to do. Which means I just about blew the investigation into the oil-for-food scandal out of the water, and embarrassed the President personally. That doesn't strike me as handling my authority well."

Silvio studied Castillo for a long moment, then asked, "How much sleep have you had in the past few days?"

"It shows, huh?"

"It shows. If you really want my advice, get yourself some rest."

Castillo considered that, took a sip of his beer, then asked, "Can you recommend a quiet hotel near the airport in Montevideo?"

"As a matter of fact, I can. The airport's in Carrasco. There's a really nice hotel in Carrasco. The Belmont House. A little stiff on the pocketbook. But I was thinking you might get some rest today."

"So was I, sir. You think I could get a couple of rooms there for tonight? For two days? How would I get the number to call? I really don't want a record of me booking it through American Express."

Ambassador Silvio reached into the pocket of his frayed blue jeans, took out his telephone, and punched the appropriate buttons.

"Juan Manuel Silvio here," he said a moment later. "Please tell me that you'll be able to accommodate two friends of mine-separate rooms-for tonight and tomorrow night."

Thirty seconds later, he returned the cellular to his blue jeans.

"Done."

"Thank you very much."

"My pleasure. Anything else I can do?"

"Let me see if I can at least do this by myself," Castillo said, and took out his cellular and punched the appropriate buttons.

"I'm glad I caught you, Yung," he began. "I'd offer to drive you to the airport," Ambassador Silvio said, "but I don't think that would be a very good idea inasmuch as I suspect there's a good many people in uniforms looking for a man in a Harvard sweatshirt and blue jeans."