“Isn’t that the place we used to protect?”
“Yes, it is. That’s what I meant by your having a grasp of the situation. Now, what I want you to do is send a couple of your best men out there—better yet, go yourself—and see if Darby is there, and if he’s not, ask his wife if she knows where he is. I’m sure Darby knows where Castillo is.”
“Have you got a first name on the wife, sir?”
Call her “Mrs. Darby,” you Irish moron!
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“Well, then I’ll just call her Mrs. Darby.”
“That’ll work. Now, Tom, there is a possibility that she might deny he is there, and another possibility, slight but real, that Castillo himself might be there, and even a remote possibility that two Russians we’re looking for—former SVR Colonel Dmitri Berezovsky and former SVR Lieutenant Colonel Svetlana Alekseeva—may also be in that house. Castillo is just arrogant enough, wouldn’t you agree, to try to hide himself, and the Russians, in plain sight, so to speak.”
“Would you spell those Russian names for me, please?”
Montvale did so. Then added: “So, do a really thorough job of searching the place.”
“Yes, sir. And what do I do if I find these people?”
“If you find Darby”—you Irish moron--“you find out from him where Castillo and the Russians are. If you find Castillo or the Russians, you detain them, and immediately notify the President, or his chief of staff.”
“Yes, sir. And whom do I see at Justice for the warrants, sir?”
“What warrants?”
“The search warrant for the premises, and the arrest warrants for Castillo and these Russians.”
“You don’t need a warrant”—you cretin—“you’re acting on the authority of the President.”
“Yes, sir. I understand. And from whom do I get that, sir?”
“Get what?”
“The presidential authority.”
“I just gave it to you.”
“Sir, it has to be in writing. I would suppose if I’m to act on the authority of the President, President Clendennen would have to sign it himself.”
Well, what did I expect? McGuire is part of the Washington bureaucratic establishment.
You don’t rise in that—for that matter, stay in that—unless you have mastered the fine art of covering your ass.
“Tom, I’m not sure if President Clendennen would be available to do that at this time. So here’s what I want you to do. Just go out there with enough of your people to place the premises under around-the-clock surveillance—discreet surveillance. This situation requires, as I’m sure you understand, the greatest discretion.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
“Do you happen to know either Darby or his wife, Tom?”
“I’ve met them, sir.”
“Then could you just knock at the door, unofficially, and tell Mrs. Darby you were in the neighborhood and took a chance to see if Darby was at home?”
“That would work, sir. And if he is?”
“Then you tell him that you’re looking for Colonel Castillo; that you have a message for Castillo from me that has to be personally delivered.”
“Yes, sir. And if he directs me to Colonel Castillo—I mean, if I find him—then what do I do?”