By Order of the President (Presidential Agent 1)

“I think you’re right. Can I go on?”

“Sorry.”

“We can presume he can fly helicopters—the Huey, at least, since you have doubts that he should be flying the Apache—and is qualified in no other useful skill, like being an Infantry or Armor platoon leader.”

“Okay.”

“And if he stays in Aviation, and all those terrible things you think Aviation brass is doing to him are true—and I think you’re probably right—and is an Apache pilot, they will continue to put him in an Apache cockpit . . .”

“Where he will get killed, and probably get a lot of people with him killed,” Naylor interrupted.

“Allan, by now you should have vented your temper,” General Young said. “The problem is a given. Now, let’s find a solution.”

“Sorry, Oz.”

“Schwarzkopf has given you a blank check. At one end of that range of options is a message saying this young man is grounded, by order of H. Normal himself.”

This time when Naylor heard “H. Normal” it didn’t seem at all funny.

“I don’t think we want to do that,” General Young went on, “for a number of reasons that should be self-evident. So what’s left? We have to get him out of Aviation, but where can we send him? I have a suggestion which I sort of thought you would think of first. You set it up.”

“What did I set up?”

“The 2303rd Civil Government Detachment,” Young said, “commanded by Colonel Bruce J. McNab. A classmate of ours. Who we can talk to. You, or me, or both of us.”

“And I told you when I set it up that I didn’t like it; that what it was was Green Beanie McNab playing James Bond. General Schwarzkopf was told to do it by Colin Powell personally, and he told me to do it and not to ask any more questions than I had to. But we both know that whatever Scotty McNab’s involved with, it doesn’t have very much to do with civil government.”

“We don’t think it has much to do with civil government, ” Young said. “Unless you know something I don’t?”

Naylor shook his head, and then asked, “What would Castillo do there?”

“There’s six, maybe eight Hueys on McNab’s TO&E,” Young said, referencing the Table of Organization & Equipment. “He could fly one of those.”

“For all I know, Scotty is planning to fly into Baghdad in one or more of those Hueys and try to kidnap, or assassinate, Saddam Hussein.”

“I frankly wouldn’t be surprised. But, to repeat, you or me, or both of us, could have a word with him, and make sure he understands this young officer is not to be put in harm’s way for the benefit of Army Aviation public relations. ”

“If McNab’s doing something covert . . .” Naylor said, thoughtfully. “I said that about Hussein to be clever, but, now that I think about it, I’m not so sure it’s that far off the mark—he’s certainly got some cover operation up and running to hide it. A perfectly legitimate military operation, possibly even having something to do with civil governments. ”

“Probably,” Young agreed.

“From which he can detach whatever number of people he needs to conduct whatever, almost certainly illegal, operation he wants to do without attracting much attention.”

Young nodded in agreement.

“Oz, how about you transferring Castillo to the 2303rd Civil Government Detachment and I will get on the horn to Colonel Scotty McNab and tell him that whatever he does with Castillo is not to be even remotely connected with what he is doing covertly?”

“Done,” Young said. “But I think I’d better talk to Scotty, not you.”

“Why?”

“Because it takes you out of the loop,” Young said. “Over the years, Allan, you’ve spoken to me of Lieutenant Castillo. Often.”

“Have I?”

“Yeah. And I got the feeling you’re really fond of him.”

“Guilty.”