By Order of the President (Presidential Agent 1)

“No problem. He’s getting ready to go wheels-up in Morocco with the backup team. I think there’s still an open link. Come on. We’ll see.” Then he had a second thought and pointed at Captain Brewster. “Who you be, Captain?”

“My name is Brewster . . .”

“Gonzalez’s aide?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re on the Snoopy list,” D’Alessandro said. Then he said, “D’Alessandro coming in with two. On my authority.”

Castillo noticed for the first time that D’Alessandro had what looked like a flesh-colored hearing aid in his right ear and that a barely visible cord ran from it into the collar of his polo shirt. There was obviously a microphone under the shirt.

“Sir,” Castillo said to Lieutenant Colonel Fortinot, “may I suggest you come with us?”

Lieutenant Colonel Fortinot nodded just perceptibly and then followed D’Alessandro, Castillo, and Brewster into the compound. First the outer gate, and then the inner gate, swung closed as they marched toward the single-story brick building that had once been the headquarters of the U.S. Army Stockade, Fort Bragg.

D’Alessandro led them down a corridor to a door guarded by a sergeant who had a CAR-4 cradled in his arm like a hunter’s shotgun.

“They’re with me,” D’Alessandro said, and then added, to the microphone under his shirt, “Open the goddamned door!”

There was a sound of a deadbolt being released and then the door opened inward.

The room was square, about twenty-five feet to a side. In the center was a very large oblong table, with room for perhaps twenty people. There were six people sitting at it. There were paper maps on one wall and video monitors showing maps of various parts of the world—including the area around Abéché, Chad—on another. There was a row of twenty-four-inch video monitors showing areas in and around the compound. Charley could see the van in which they’d come.

There was a captain sitting at the far end of the table. D’Alessandro walked there and sat down next to him and gestured for the others to take chairs.

“This is Major Castillo,” D’Alessandro said. “He’s in on Snoopy. The captain is General Gonzalez’s aide; he’s on the Snoopy list. And you all know Colonel Fortinot. Major Castillo needs to talk to General McNab. We up?”

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The captain nodded and said, “All green.”

“Speakerphone all right with you, Charley?” D’Alessandro asked.

“How secure is this connection?” Charley asked. “This room?”

“Don’t get no more secure.”

“Speakerphone’s fine,” Charley said.

“Speakerphone green,” the captain said.

“Old Fart for Snoopy-Six,” D’Alessandro said.

Three seconds later, the surprisingly clear voice of Lieutenant General Bruce J. McNab came over loudspeakers Castillo could not see. “Now what, Vic?”

“Fellow here wants to talk to you,” D’Alessandro said and gestured to Castillo.

“It’s Charley, General,” Castillo said.

Three seconds later, McNab asked, “As in Castillo, that Charley?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ve always had a talent for showing up at the worst possible time. What’s on your mind?”

“I know what you were looking for, sir, and that it’s no longer there.”

“Who the hell told you that?”