By Order of the President (Presidential Agent 1)

“Upper right corner of South America?”

“Not quite the upper-right corner; a little down the coast from the upper-right corner. But you got the continent right.”

“You were saying?”

“An Air Suriname 727 landed at N’Djamena, Chad, after a flight from Khartoum, took on fuel—lots of fuel—filed a flight plan to Murtala Muhammad International Airport, which you now know is the airport serving Lagos, Nigeria, and took off.” He paused to let that register, then added, “It never got to Murtala Muhammad International—”

“Okay. I follow. But—”

Kennedy ignored the interruption and continued: “Even more fascinating than that is the friendly folks in Khartoum tell us they have no record of Air Suriname 1101 having visited their airfield in the last six months.”

Charley gestured almost frantically to Captain Brewster, miming writing. Brewster quickly took a small notebook and a ballpoint pen from a shoulder pocket of his BDU and handed it to him.

“So you think it’s the one we’re looking for?” Charley said as he hurriedly scribbled “Air Suriname” and the flight number in the notebook.

“I think it probably merits further investigation,” Kennedy said, sarcastically. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Absolutely. You don’t happen to have the registration number?”

"P-Papa, Z-Zero, 5059. Fiver-Zero-Fiver-Niner.”

&n

bsp; Castillo scribbled PZ5059 in the notebook.

“I’ll pass this right on,” he said. “Thanks.”

“You will tell them where it came from, won’t you?”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I’ll take that chance, Charley.”

He’s serious about that. He must believe what he’s telling me. Or wants me to believe he’s serious.

“Any idea where it really went?”

“There’s any number of airfields on the west coast of Africa, some of them even sophisticated enough to have paved runways and navigation aids. If I had to guess, I’d say Yundum International.”

“Yumdum?” Castillo blurted.

“Yundum, Why You En Dum. No Bee After Dum.”

“Where the hell is that?”

“Outside Banjul. You know that charming metropolis, I’m sure.”

“Come on, Howard!”

“How about Gambia? You do know where Gambia is, don’t you?”

“West coast of Africa?”

“Next to Senegal,” Kennedy said. “Banjul is maybe a hundred miles down the coast from Dakar.”

“Why there?”

“It’s a pretty good jumping-off place if you want to fly across the ocean.”