Covert Warriors (Presidential Agent 7)

There was the sound of three rings, and then a somewhat metallic voice said, “General Naylor.”

“Bruce McNab, General. I regret waking you at oh dark hundred, but . . .”

“What’s on your mind, General?”

“. . . the protocol requires that I immediately notify C-in-C CENTCOM if something of this nature comes up, and something has.”

“What have you got, General?”

“There has been a second communication from the people who are holding Colonel Ferris. This one was sent UPS Next Day from El Paso, addressed to ‘Sergeant’ Terry O’Toole. It contained a photo of Colonel Ferris holding a copy of yesterday’s El Diario de El Paso. And a note offering to make an exchange for him. Shall I read it to you?”

“Please.”

McNab did so.

“Who is Félix whatever?” Naylor asked.

“We don’t know. As soon as I can get the FBI liaison officer in here, I’m going to ask him to find out. I would guess he’s someone we have in prison.”

“Probably,” Naylor said. “This message reached you last night?”

“About fifteen minutes ago.”

“UPS delivers at . . . a little after oh-five-hundred?”

“What I did, General, was ask the FBI to see if they could intercept any new messages as soon as they entered the UPS or FedEx systems. And they were successful. Mr. Stevens, the FBI liaison officer, called last night to report that this message, this envelope, had been intercepted in El Paso. When it arrived in Fayetteville, Vic D’Alessandro was waiting for it.”

“And what are your plans now, General?” Naylor asked.

“What I’m planning to do, General, is first send you photocopies of the envelope and its contents. Then I intend to get the FBI liaison officer in here, and turn the envelope and its contents over to him, so that he can send it to the FBI experts in Quantico.

“I presume you will pass the photocopies of the envelope and its contents to the chief of staff, who will presumably send copies to the secretary of Defense, the secretary of State, the director of National Intelligence, et cetera—”

“And of course the office of the POTUS,” Naylor interrupted.

“Yes, of course. We mustn’t forget President Clendennen, must we?”

“Spare me your sarcasm, McNab,” Naylor snapped.

McNab didn’t reply directly. After a moment, he asked: “If I may continue, General?”

“Go on,” Naylor said icily.

“And that no further action by me is required at this time.”

“No further action is required of you. That is correct.”

“Thank you, sir. Is there anything else, sir?”

Naylor broke the connection without replying.

“Sometimes, Vic,” McNab said as he reached for his Brick and opened it, “as hard as this is to believe, I don’t think General Naylor likes me very much.”

He checked to see if the proper LEDs were glowing, then pushed several buttons.

“Christ, McNab,” the voice of DCI A. Franklin Lammelle bounced off a satellite. “Do you know what time it is?”

“I have a little gossip with which I thought you might want to begin your day,” McNab said. “We have a new ally in our war against the evildoers who have snatched Colonel Ferris.”