By Order of the President (Presidential Agent 1)

“You really think you have to go there yourself? Can’t we get the CIA or Meade to find the airplane for us?”

“I think it would be best if I went myself, sir.”

Yeah, and so do I. When the CIA learns that based on flawed information from them, Gray Fox is about to violate the sacred territory of Suriname and neutralize—probably blow up—a perfectly legitimate airplane, Langley’s first reaction is going to be denial, and, way down the pike, taking action—maybe—to fix the problem.

“Get back in touch as soon as you can.”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

Secretary Hall put the handset back in its cradle.

“Miller, I want you to come with us,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

Hall started for the door to the mayor’s office.

“I won’t be long,” he said.

[TWO]

Penthouse “B” The Grande Cozumel Beach and Golf Resort Cozumel, Mexico 1022 10 June 2005

“Okay, Sherman, get General McNab again,” Castillo ordered.

Five seconds later, Sherman reported, “The link is down, Major.”

“Oh, shit!” Castillo said. “Get Bragg and see if they know why.”

“Already working on it, sir,” Sherman said, and almost immediately, “I’m getting some green LEDs on General McNab, Major . . . Okay, sir, we’re all up.”

“General McNab, please,” Castillo said into the headset.

“And now what, Major Castillo?” McNab himself answered.

“General, we have confirmation of what I told you before. It’s now almost certain that the stolen airplane has been repainted with the color scheme of Costa Rican Air Transport, which regularly flies into Philadelphia with flowers from Costa Rica, and they intend to . . .”

“You did say,” McNab interrupted, “did you not, Major, ‘flies into Philadelphia with flowers from Costa Rica’?”

“Yes, sir, that’s what I said. Flowers grown in Costa Rica and sold in supermarkets in the States. They go through customs in Tampa . . .”

“How convenient for General Naylor and CentCom. They can just hop in a couple of Humvees, drive over to Tampa International, and neutralize it there.”

“Please, sir, let me finish.”

“Why not?”

“Where they can top off the tanks and then file a flight plan—a domestic flight plan—to Philadelphia.”

“And how are they going to explain to the customs people in Tampa why they are carrying so much fuel in U.S. Army fuel bladders?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Castillo confessed.

“What was Secretary Hall’s reaction to this fascinating scenario? You did tell him?”

“Yes, sir. He told me he’s on his way to Washington. To the White House.”

“And?”