The Outlaws (Presidential Agent 6)

Berezovsky put in: “I think going in there with guns blazing would be counterproductive, General. And possibly disastrous. We don’t know what would happen if one of those rubber barrels was subjected to machine-gun fire. We don’t want little pieces of Congo-X scattered all over that airfield.”

“Good point,” McNab said. “What did you say, Charley, about ‘whatever we wind up using’? That sounds like you’re not planning to use the Black Hawks.”

“We may not be able to use them,” Castillo said. “The closest staging point we can use is Cozumel. And that island is thirteen hundred nautical miles, give or take, from La Orchila. The ferry range of a Black Hawk is in the book at twelve hundred. We might be able to stretch that to thirteen hundred—we probably could; Dick and I have a lot of time in Black Hawks watc

hing the fuel exhaustion warning light blinking at us—but that would put us in La Orchila with dry tanks.”

“Auxiliary fuel cells?” General Naylor asked.

“I don’t know where I can get any, sir,” Castillo said. “And even with fuel cells, we’d have to top off the Black Hawks, and the fuel cells, at La Orchila. That would take twenty minutes at least. I don’t want to be on the ground more than fifteen minutes. And that’s presuming we would be able to refuel at La Orchila.”

“So what is your alternate plan?” McNab said.

“Overload the Gulfstream III—I can get a lot of people in there; maybe fifteen—to go in under the radar at first light and hope Dmitri’s ‘Take me to General Sirinov’ order dazzles Sirinov’s Spetsnaz. Then we load him and what Congo-X he has on his Tu-934A and come back here.”

“What would happen to your Gulfstream?” Naylor asked.

“Sir, maybe there would be fuel there, and time to refuel. Unlikely, but possible. If not, Sparkman leaves with what fuel remains and heads for Barranquilla, Colombia. And we get on the Tu-934A and come here.”

“Charley,” McNab asked softly, “what would your wish list be for this operation?”

“General, we’ve given that very subject a lot of thought,” Castillo said. “If I had my druthers, I’d commandeer four UH-60Ms from the One-Sixtieth Special Operations fleet. Two to use and two for redundancy. All with stub wings and external tanks. They would be armed with GAU-19 fifty-caliber Gatling guns and AGM-114 Hellfire laser-guided missiles to take out the commo building.”

He paused, and then went on, “And since I have been a very good boy, I would like Santa to also bring me a Red Ryder BB gun and an anatomically correct Barbie doll.”

McNab, D’Allessando, and Allan Junior laughed.

“Well, you asked me,” Castillo said. “And, oh, I forgot: An aircraft carrier—preferably the USS Ronald Reagan—sitting somewhere out there on the blue Caribbean so that I and my stalwart band could have a last meal on the Navy before we sallied forth to battle the forces of evil.”

This got the expected laughter.

“But since I don’t believe in Santa Claus, I guess we’ll have to go with my tired old Gulfstream III. Among other things, I suspect we’re running out of time.”

“How much time do you think you have?” General Naylor asked.

“Seventy-two hours tops, sir. If I had to bet, I’d wager that in forty-eight hours the Tu-934A will be on its way somewhere.”

“Somewhere?”

“Sir, I have no idea where it will go. Maybe Cuba. I just don’t know.”

General Naylor then suddenly said, “Colonel Castillo, I herewith inform you I am withdrawing my parole.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Allan!” General McNab said disgustedly. “Now what?”

“Yes, sir, General Naylor,” Castillo said evenly. “I regret to tell you, sir, that I am placing you under arrest.”

“Colonel Castillo, are you still determined to proceed on an operation that not only is unauthorized but in my professional opinion is suicidal?”

“Sir, I see going ahead with this as my duty. I beg you, sir, please don’t get in my way.”

General Naylor nodded, then said, “Colonel Brewer, make note of the time.”

“Yes, sir. It’s fourteen twenty-eight, sir.”

General Naylor went on: “Make note of this, please, Colonel Brewer. Write it down. Quote. Having at fourteen twenty-seven withdrawn my parole, at fourteen twenty-eight, in the realization that I was not going to be able to deter Lieutenant Colonel Castillo from proceeding on an unauthorized operation involving Congo-X in Venezuela, I came to the conclusion that my duty lay in increasing his chances of success, as the failure of his operation would cause more damage to the United States than its success.”

“Sir, I don’t understand,” Castillo said.