The Shooters (Presidential Agent 4) - Page 160

"And you of course agreed to call him?"

"I was reluctant at first. He didn't push. What he did say was that he thought OOA was going to not only be around for a while, but grow in size and importance. And that being true, it would need someone more senior than a junior lieutenant colonel…"

"An impetuous junior lieutenant colonel?"

Torine nodded. "…to run it. A brigadier general, for example. And wasn't I eligible for promotion?"

"And then you blushed modestly?"

"Uh-huh. And I think we parted with him thinking I thought he and I had an understanding."

"I don't know if I'm amused or disgusted," Castillo said. "But his job is to protect his boss, who, like us, has an obligation to keep the President from being embarrassed. And I am a junior lieutenant colonel. An impetuous one. He really would be happier if you had this job."

"Moot point, Charley. You were there when the President-before the Finding-asked me if I would have any

trouble working for you. I didn't have any problem working for you then, and I don't have one now. Most important, your name is on the Finding setting up OOA, not mine. The commander-in-chief has spoken."

Castillo met his eyes for a moment, but said nothing at first. Then he asked, "So did you get us this Gulfstream jockey you talked into staying in the Air Force?"

"He'll be here at three. I told him to bring a toothbrush, as you would probably want to go somewhere."

"As hard as it may be for any of you to believe, there are several minor but as yet unresolved little problems with my grand master plan. For one thing, I don't know where Special Agent Timmons is being held. Or by who. And once I get the H-models into Uruguay, I don't know what to do with them. And I can't keep them in Shangri-La long. Chief Inspector Ordonez, I'm sure, has the local cops keeping an eye on it. Which means that I'm going to have to get Munz to get his pal Ordonez to look the other way, briefly. Even if-big 'if'-Ordonez is willing to do that, he won't do it for long. Which means I will have to get the choppers out of Uruguay quickly. Pevsner has at least one estancia in Argentina. Maybe more than one. If I can find him-another big 'if'-maybe that'll be the answer.

"And then there's this small problem I have with the agency."

"An old problem," Torine said, "or a new one?"

"The new one. Didn't Miller tell you?"

"Delchamps did. If you're talking about this Weiss guy coming here?"

Castillo nodded.

He went on: "I don't believe for a second, of course, that the agency would even think of fucking up something I'm doing to protect something that they're doing."

"Perish the thought," Torine said in agreement. "What the hell is that all about, Edgar?"

"Which brings us to my little tete-a-tete with the DCI," Delchamps said. "The bottom line of which is that he's either a much better liar than I think he is, or he doesn't know what Weiss and Company are up to in Paraguay."

"How did you come to have a little tete-a-tete with the DCI?" Castillo said.

"Well, there I was rooting around in the bowels of the palace in Langley, and all of a sudden I looked up and there he was.

"'Ed Delchamps, right?' he asked, and put out his hand. 'I'm Jack Powell.' I picked up right away on that. Here was John Powell, the director of Central Intelligence, wanting to make kissy-kissy with a dinosaur-slash-pariah, which I found interesting.

"So I enthusiastically pumped his hand and told him I was really pleased to meet him, Mr. Director, sir."

Leverette chuckled deep in his throat.

"So Jack asked me if I had time for a cup of coffee, and I said, 'I always have time for you, Mr. Director, sir,' or words to that effect, thinking we would then take the elevator to his office, where I would either be charmed or terminated.

"Wrong. He takes me to a little room in the bowels, furnished with chrome-and-plastic tables and chairs, and a row of machines offering candy bars, snacks, Coke, and coffee dispensed in plastic cups. It is where the filing cabinet moles go to rest from their labors.

"One look at who had just dropped in and the room emptied of file clerks in thirty seconds flat. There we are alone, holding plastic cups of lukewarm, undrinkable coffee, two pals-slash-coworkers in the noble, never-ending effort to develop intel against our enemies."

"And he told you how happy he was that you were in a position to restrain the impetuosity of our Charley?" Torine asked.

Delchamps took a sip of his drink, then said: "No. I expected something like that, but that's not what happened. What he said was that he understood there had been problems and disagreements in the past, and that he wasn't going to pretend he wished I hadn't changed my mind about retiring, or that he was happy I was 'in the building with an any-area, any-time pass hanging around my neck, but that's what's happened. More important, that's what Montvale ordered…'"

Tags: W.E.B. Griffin Presidential Agent Thriller
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