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"He's in Argentina."

"I just saw that on Fox News. The bad guys blew Jack the Stack away. What's Charley got to do with that?"

"I'll tell you when you get here."

"And, back to that question, when will that be?"

"Hold one, Dick," Isaacson said, punched off the speakerphone, covered the microphone with his hand, and looked at Secretary Hall.

"Go get him," Hall ordered.

"Dick, I'll be over there in, say, half an hour," Isaacson said.

"Well, if that's the best you can do," Miller said, and hung up. [THREE] Castillo came out of the phone booth and smiled at the guy in charge of the communications room.

"Thank you," he said, and then, pointing at a coffeemaker, "What are my chances of getting a cup of that?"

"Couldn't be better, sir," the man said, and handed Castillo a china mug.

"Soldier or Marine?" Castillo asked.

"Soldier, sir. Sergeant First Class."

"Do you ever yearn for simple soldiering?" Castillo asked. "Nothing to worry about except maybe an IG inspection?"

"Sometimes, sir. But this is pretty interesting, and the life here is good."

"Did you know Mr. Masterson?"

"Yes, sir. One of the good guys. What the hell is going on?"

"Right now, nobody knows," Castillo said.

Including, or maybe especially, the guy who by direction of the President is now in charge of the investigation.

And who is about to become the most unpopular sonofabitch in the embassy, with everybody from the ambassador on down pissed at him.

And with cause.

They have done their very best, from a sense of duty plus their feelings of admiration for Masterson and his wife, and it hasn't been good enough.

They're probably thinking, Some hotshot who's been in Buenos Aires for two days is now in charge. God only knows what that sonofabitch said about us when he got on a secure line to Washington.

He took a sip of the coffee, burned his lip, and said, "Shit!"

"I should have warned you it was hot," the commo sergeant said.

"My fault," Castillo said.

Well, at least I learned how to handle a situation like this at The Point.

It's essentially a matter of what not to do.

You don't line the troops up and say, "Jesus, guys, wait until you hear what a dumb order we just got."

When you get a lawful order, no matter how dumb- and with all due respect, Mr. President, this decision of yours is about as dumb as orders get-you either refuse to obey it or you obey it.

And since this order cannot be refused-it's "not open for debate" and I have sworn a solemn oath, without any mental reservations whatsoever to cheerfully obey the orders of officers appointed over me, which would certainly include the President-that means I will have to go before the troops bubbling over with enthusiasm to carry out the brilliant order I have just received. And then do my goddamnedest to execute it.

"Can I take this with me? The ambassador wants to see me ten minutes ago."

"Sure," the sergeant said. [FOUR] "Sir, I just spoke with Secretary Hall, who told me what the President has ordered."

"The President made it crystal clear what he wishes done; what he wants you to do," Ambassador Silvio said.

"For your ears only, sir, I'm way out of my depth."

"The President doesn't seem to think so," Silvio said, "and that's all that really matters, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir, I guess it is."

"I've asked everybody with a role in this to come to the conference room. They're in there now."

"Have you said anything to them, sir?"

"I thought I would ask you what you would like me to say before I said anything."

"Sir, I think the simple facts-that the President told you he has given me the responsibility to get Mrs. Masterson and the children, and Mr. Masterson's body, safely out of the country, and that I am now in charge of the investigation-would be the best way to handle it."

"That's about what I was thinking," Silvio said. "Just before the President called me, I made a decision that I don't think is going to please the FBI team that's coming down."

"Yes, sir?"

"Colonel Munz asked for permission to perform the autopsy on Mr. Masterson's body and I gave that permission. It was a tough call."

"I'm not sure I follow you, sir."

"We get into a somewhat hazy area of law and diplomacy here," Silvio said. "A murder and an abduction have occurred. Those are violations of Argentine law. The murder of an official of the U.S. government, no matter where it occurs, is a violation of the United States Code, one of the few offenses for which the death penalty may be applied…"

Castillo thought, If I needed another proof that I don't know what the hell I'm doing, I never thought about any of this.

"… And in theory at least, the government can demand that the perpetrators be extradited to the United States for trial. I don't know-I just haven't had the time to look into it-where Mrs. Masterson's abduction fits into this, but her abduction violates Argentine law."

"I never even thought about this," Castillo confessed.

"I've given it some thought," Silvio said. "Now, presuming that the people who did this are apprehended, they would be arrested by the Argentines, and tried in an Argentine court. The problem I have with that is that if found guilty, the maximum penalty is twenty or twenty-five years' imprisonment."

"No death penalty," Castillo said.

"And, for your ears only, Mr. Castillo, while I would dearly love to see these people-what is that lovely phrase?-'hung by the neck until dead, dead, dead,' that's just not going to happen.

"Furthermore, extradition poses some problems. Unfortunately, a number of Argentine officials and more important legislators oppose anything we norteamericanos ask for-probably a vestige of Juan Domingo Peron-as a Pavlovian reflex. While I'm fairly certain that extradition would ultimately be approved, I'm not certain.

"Our death penalty enters into the equation. When I was a young consular officer in Paris, there was a terrible man from Philadelphia who stuffed his girlfriend in a trunk and let her petrify there. When this was finally discovered and he was arrested, his attorney-now Senator Arlen Specter, as a matter of interest-got him out on bail, which he promptly jumped. We finally located him in France. When we tried to have him extradited, French officials and legislators, who seem to share the Argentine fondness for denying anything we Americans ask, were more than a little difficult.

"One of the reasons they cited for denying extradition was that we have the death penalty, and they don't. There were other reasons, but that was one of their major moral arguments. It took us about twenty years to get this chap extradited from France. That took place just a couple of years ago. And I feel sure that our death penalty would be advanced as a reason for the Argentines to deny extradition."

"I heard that story," Castillo said. "I have some friends in the Philadelphia Police Department."

Including a former sergeant named Betty Schneider, who at this very moment is on her way down here. And who may not be nearly as delighted to see me as I will be to see her.

"Two of whom, sir," Castillo went on, "have become Secret Service agents. I asked that they be sent here to assist me. One of them is a woman, whom I intend to assign to Mrs. Masterson's security detail. The other is a very bright detective, who will keep his eyes on the investigation for me. He's a black guy, which I thought might be useful."

"So you do have some ideas what to do?" Silvio said. "I suspect you're not nearly as far out of your depth as you say you are."

Oh, yes I am. And did I ask for Sergeant Schneider because I wanted her to sit on Mrs. Masterson, or because I can't get her out of my mind? How does Dick Miller so cleverly phrase it? That I have the lamentable tendency to think with my dick?

"With all of these things in mind," Silvio said, "it seemed to me that justice-as much of it as can be expected in this circumstance-would best be served to have these scum tried and convicted in an Argentine court."