Hazardous Duty (Presidential Agent 8)

C IN C CENTRAL COMMAND

SITREP #1

US EMBASSY BUENOS AIRES 2020 ZULU 7 JUNE 2007

1-TELEPHONE CONTACT ESTABLISHED WITH CGC 0600 ZULU 7 JUNE

2-FACE TO FACE MEETING PROBABLE WITHIN TWENTY-FOUR TO THIRTY-SIX HOURS AT TO BE DETERMINED LOCATION

3-UNDERSIGNED AND VDA BELIEVE CGC AMENABLE TO CALL TO EXTENDED HAZARDOUS DUTY IF HIS PHYSICAL CONDITION PERMITS.

NAYLOR, LTC

TOP SECRET

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense to me,” Colonel Freedman said, as Naylor waited for the machine to report the message had been received and decoded.

“I suppose not,” Naylor said.

The message wasn’t supposed to make a lot of sense to anyone except the President. Actually, it was intended to pacify the President, by deceiving him into thinking his orders to get Castillo on extended hazardous duty were being executed.

“Who is CGC? A person, presumably.”

“Sir, you’re not cleared for that information.”

Freedman was annoyed but tried hard not to let it show.

“I understand,” he said. “I’m not asking for classified information I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s a question of Need to Know, sir.”

“What I’m curious about, Colonel, and I don’t think it gets into a classified area, is why send the message at all? I mean, we had General McFadden on the phone. Presumably he knows what this is all about and—”

“I could have just given him the essence of it, paraphrased a bit?”

“Exactly.”

“Two reasons, sir. Because this is going to the President, and when you’re dealing with POTUS you go by the book. And also because General McFadden does not know what this is all about, just that I am acting pursuant to a VOCICCENCOM.”

“I can understand that.”

“And now I have to get out of here, sir. I have something else to do that can’t wait.”

“I understand. I’ll walk you out.”

“I really appreciate your assistance, sir.”

“Not at all. Glad that I could be of service.”

When Naylor had passed through the door of the embassy, the Marine sergeant asked, “Sir, what the hell was that all about?”

“You’re not cleared for information at that level, Sergeant,” Colonel Freedman replied. “And you should know better than to ask.”

Major Kiril Koshkov was waiting with the Mercedes SUV when Lieutenant Colonel Naylor came through the gate in the embassy fence.

Colonel Freedman watched until Naylor got in the Mercedes and it drove off. Then he looked at his watch and said, “Damn, I’m going to be late,” and hurried to his embassy car (actually a black GMC Yukon armored with ballistic steel) and told the driver to take him to the embassy of the Republic of Botswana.

The Botswanese really knew how to throw a cocktail party.