“Yes, sir.”
“You’re General Gonzalez’s aide?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you should know better than bringing any unauthorized personnel out here. I think you can count on General Gonzalez getting a memo for record reporting this incident. Good night, gentlemen.”
He turned, marched toward the inner gate, and made an “open it up” gesture.
“Colonel,” Castillo called out. “Before you go through that gate, I respectfully suggest you hear me out.”
Colonel Fortinot continued walking.
“Sir,” Castillo called, “I’m privy to the Gray Fox op in progress.”
Colonel Fortinot stopped, turned, and walked back to the fence. He looked intently at Castillo for a moment. “Major, I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Gray Fox? Never heard of it.”
Then he turned and made another “open it up” gesture toward the compound.
The gate began to swing inward.
A barrel-chested, very short, totally bald civilian—in a red polo shirt and khaki trousers and carrying a CAR-4 in his hand—came out.
“Goddamn, I thought that was you!” CWO-5 Victor D’Alessandro, USA, Retired, called. “How the hell are you, Charley?”
“Hello, Vic,” Castillo called.
Saved by the goddamned bell!
D’Alessandro marched through the inner gate, made an “open it up” gesture over his head, and marched toward the outer gate, which swung inward as he approached.
He walked up to Charley, looked at him carefully for a moment, said, “You looked better with the beard. What the fuck are you doing here?”
Then he wrapped his arms around Castillo, which placed his face against Castillo’s chest, and lifted him off the ground.
“Presumably, Mr. D’Alessandro, you know this officer?” Colonel Fortinot said.
“Goddamn right, Colonel,” D’Alessandro said, dropping Castillo to the ground. “Charley and I go way back. Word I had was that he was in Washington trying to learn how to act like a lieutenant colonel.”
“Something like that, Vic,” Castillo said, chuckling.
“The major does not have authorization to be here,” Fortinot said.
“He does now,” D’Alessandro said and turned to Charley. “They made me retire when I came back from Afghanistan the last time, Charley. So I hired on as a fucking double-dipper. I’m director of security for the stockade. GS-fucking fifteen. I’m an assimilated full fucking bird colonel. Isn’t that right, Colonel?”
Lieutenant Colonel Fortinot nodded.
“You came at a bad time, Charley—knowing you, no fucking surprise—we got a Gray Fox going,” D’Alessandro said.
“That’s why I’m here, Vic,” Castillo said. “I came up with the intel that set that off.”
“Again, knowing you, no fucking surprise. So what do you need?”
“Have you got a link to General McNab?”
“Data, imagery, voice. You wouldn’t believe the gear your pal Casey has come up with.”
“I’d like to talk to him,” Castillo said.