Covert Warriors (Presidential Agent 7)

“What did he do?”

“DEA agents intercepted a movement of drugs near El Paso—in the United States, near El Paso—during which this fellow shot and killed three agents. The DEA believes he is one of the leaders of one of the major drug cartels.”

“I would suggest it’s a moot point, Mr. President,” Attorney General Crenshaw said.

“What?”

“The United States has a long-standing policy of not negotiating in situations like this, Mr. President.”

“Policies change, Mr. Attorney General. Lammelle, has the CIA got anything to add?”

“Sir, both the DEA people in Acapulco and my man there feel there is something odd about the murders and kidnapping. The relationship between the DEA and the Sinaloa drug cartel, which controls that area, is—for lack of a better word—amicable. Their compliance with the orders of the ambassador to cooperate with the Mexican authorities has meant that the cartel almost certainly has not felt threatened by the DEA in the area, or by the Special Forces. There is no reason for them to draw attention to themselves by doing something like this.”

“Except, of course, that they want this fellow Abrego back.”

“Mr. President, they could have kidnapped Colonel Ferris in Mexico City.”

“Get to your point, Lammelle,” the President said impatiently.

“Raw intelligence data, Mr. President, as I’m sure you know, is intelligence that has not been analyzed as to the source, and the reliability of that source. In short, it’s unreliable.”

“You do have a point, right?” the President asked.

“This does not mean that raw intelligence data is not accurate, Mr. President, just that we can’t determine whether it is or not.”

“Why do I suspect, Lammelle, that you’re going to tell me that you have some raw intelligence data, the accuracy of which you can’t determine?”

“My raw data suggests the possibility, Mr. President, that Putin—the Russians—are behind what happened in Acapulco.”

“What possible interest could Putin have in Whatsisname . . . Félix Abrego?”

“My raw data suggests his interest is in Colonel Dmitri Berezovsky, Lieutenant Colonel Svetlana Alekseeva, and Lieutenant Colonel Castillo.”

“Ah-ha! Well, I can understand that. Nobody likes traitors.”

“Mr. President, I must object to your characterization of Colonel Castillo as a traitor,” Secretary Natalie Cohen said.

“That’s right,” the President said with a thin smile. “He’s a hero, isn’t he? A well-paid hero. The Vice President and Mr. Lammelle didn’t waste very much time before handing him a check for a hundred twenty-five million of taxpayers’ dollars, did they?”

“Mr. President,” Vice President Montvale said, “that reward for the delivery of a Tupelov was authorized by both your predecessor and by Senator Johns of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence.”

The President ignored him.

“In your opinion, Mr. Ellsworth,” the President said, “presuming that Mr. Lammelle’s raw and

unconfirmed intelligence that Mr. Putin’s wholly understandable interest in getting his hands on his two traitors is true, how is that going to affect our efforts to get Colonel Ferris back?”

“I have no idea,” Ellsworth replied. “It seems to me that we’re going to have to wait until we see what the Mexicans come up with. The ball, so to speak, is in their court.”

“No, the ball is in our court,” the President said. “They want to talk. So we’ll talk.”

“Mr. President,” Attorney General Crenshaw said, “you’re not thinking of entering into negotiations involving exchanging this fellow Abrego, are you?”

“Of course not,” the President said. “I wouldn’t think of violating long-standing policy. But one thought I’ve had running through my mind since I—finally—got a look at their message is that this fellow is a convicted murderer, not a terrorist. And I seem to recall that our policy speaks of not negotiating with terrorists. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

The attorney general thought for a split second, then said, “I believe you’re correct, Mr. President, but—”

“I also believe that it is within my power to show compassion. For example, if Señor Abrego were discovered to have developed a terminal illness, who could fault me for returning him to his native Mexico to live out what little remains of his life? He would then become the Mexicans’ problem. And if that somehow resulted in Colonel Ferris’s being released . . .”