"Certainly. But if that is your intention, I think I should tell you that when I speak with the President--and I will do so--I will tell him that Colonel Castillo is, in my judgment, in full possession of his extraordinary mental faculties, and that it seems to me that, motivated by your desire to spare the CIA and yourself embarrassment for losing the Russian defectors, what you and the DCI are trying to do--please forgive the colorful speech--is to throw Colonel Castillo under the bus."
Montvale looked at him in angry disbelief.
"I shall also tell him," Silvio went on, "that it is my judgment that if he goes along with you and orders Castillo to Washington, it will be some time--probably years--before the CIA will be able to locate the Russian defectors, much less get them to the United States. I will point out to the President that it took decades for Mossad, the Israeli intelligence service, as you know, to find Adolf Eichmann, who they knew was in Argentina, and wasn't until a couple of years ago that Erich Priebke, who gained infamy for his role in the Ardeatine Caves massacre outside Rome, could be brought to justice, even though he had been in Argentina since 1948 and owned a hotel in Bariloche."
Montvale's face was white. Castillo wondered if the director of National Intelligence was going to lose control.
He didn't.
"Well, it seems our little chat is over, doesn't it, Castillo?" Montvale said.
"Not quite, Mr. Montvale. I would like to know whether you are going to obstruct my operation in Africa, or provide what assistance I'll need to carry it out under my existing authority."
Montvale contorted his face. "Why in hell would I do that?"
"Because, if you give me the help I need, I give you my word that I will go along with your charade about my medical retirement, and even show up for my retirement parade."
Montvale looked as if he didn't believe his ears.
"You'll go along with that?" Montvale asked after he'd taken a moment to consider the ramifications. "Why?"
"I'm as interested in protecting the President as you are. And after this the President would have to choose between us--and, self-evidently, you're far more valuable an asset than I am. I know when it's time to fold my tent."
Montvale considered that, then nodded once. "I'll give you what you think you need."
"I don't want the CIA, or anybody else, to know what I'm going to do. Understood?"
"You have my word."
"Before a witness," Ambassador Silvio put in.
"It will take me a couple of hours to explain the situation to Colonel Torine and get him and Captain Sparkman to Jorge Newbery."
"To where? Oh, the airport." He looked at his watch. "Okay. We'll be there."
Without thinking about it, when Montvale looked at his watch, Castillo looked at his. Montvale saw it.
"That looks like a brand-new stainless steel Rolex," the director of National Intelligence said.
"Actually, it's white gold. A gift from a friend."
Castillo, using his eyes, then asked for permission to use the secure telephone from Ambassador Silvio, who responded by handing him the handset.
"Get State on here, please," Castillo said into it, "and get them to give me a secure line to Major Richard Miller at OOA in the Nebraska Avenue Complex."
In the silence of the room, with Montvale's and Silvio's eyes on him, Castillo took a puff on his cigar while the telephone operator put the call through.
"Dick? I'll call you back in an hour or so. But right now make plans to get yourself on a plane down here tonight. If there's any trouble with that, call the Presidential Flight and have them fly you down in one of their Gulfstreams. If there's any trouble about that, tell them Ambassador Montvale authorized it."
Montvale rose from the couch and, without saying a word or looking at either Ambassador Silvio or Castillo, walked out of the ambassador's office.
Castillo heard Montvale say, "Okay, Remley, we're through here."
After Castillo broke off his call with Miller, he looked at Silvio.
"Mr. Ambassador, I didn't realize that you'd wind up in the middle of that. I am indeed sorry. And of course very grateful, sir."
"No reason for you to be sorry, Charley. Or grateful. I did what I thought it was my duty to do."