“Knowing your other option is you and your men being found as Carlito’s friend and the DEA agents were found, and having this man Joaquin Archivaldo try to figure out who did it.”
Pena looked between Castillo and Svetlana for a moment.
He said: “And because I’m willing to believe Red is ex-SVR, I guess I’m willing to believe she’s capable of doing exactly that. Where the hell did you find this woman, Carlos?”
“Actually, my brother and I found
“What happened?”
“God showed us another path,” she said.
“Somehow I don’t think you’re being sarcastic,” Juan Carlos said.
“I’m not.”
“I’ll be damned,” Pena said. “I was beginning to think I was the only Christian left on earth except for the Pope.”
“There’s a few of us Christians left,” she said. “And I’m working on Carlito.”
“Good luck with that,” Pena said. “Which brings us back to my original question: Where are we?”
“As my heathen Carlito would put it, Juan Carlos, are you in or out?”
“You already know the answer to that, don’t you, Colonel?” Pena said.
Svetlana raised her voice and issued an order in Russian. One of the Spetsnaz popped to attention, saluted, and motioned to two of his men, who followed him as he trotted around the side of the house.
“He’s going to free your men,” she explained, “and bring them here. After you have explained the change in the situation, we’ll give them their weapons, and then Carlito will show you the helicopter and ask your suggestions vis-a-vis how it should be used.”
“What helicopter?” Juan Carlos asked.
“A Policia Federal Black Hawk,” Castillo said simply, and sipped his coffee as he watched Pena’s face change expression.
TWO
The Oval Office The White House 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, N.W. Washington, D.C. 1005 20 April 2007
Supervisory Secret Service Agent Robert J. Mulligan pushed open the door and announced, “Mr. President, His Excellency Raul Vargas, ambassador of the United States of Mexico to the United States, and Secretary of State Natalie Cohen.”
President Clendennen rose from behind his desk and with a cordial smile and his hand extended walked toward Vargas-a tall, olive-skinned, elegantly dressed man with a carefully trimmed pencil-line mustache-and the secretary of State.
“How nice to see you again, Mr. Ambassador,” he said.
“The pleasure is entirely mine, Mr. President,” Vargas replied.
“Secretary Cohen tells me you’re carrying a letter for me?”
“Yes, I am, Mr. President,” Vargas said.
He took a business-size envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it over.
“Please have a seat, Mr. Ambassador, while I read what my friend Ramon has to say.”
He indicated one of the couches, turned to Clemens McCarthy, and ordered, “Get the ambassador some coffee, McCarthy.”
McCarthy in turn gestured more than a little imperiously to Mulligan, who in turn gestured, even more imperiously, to Special Agent Douglas.
“May I sit, Mr. President?” Secretary Cohen asked.
Clendennen waved in the general direction of the couch as he sat down at his desk but did not otherwise respond. The President then tore open the envelope, took out the letter it contained, and began to read it:
Ramon Manuel Martinez Mexico City D.F. 19 April 2007
My Dear Joshua:
Ambassador McCann was kind enough to personally deliver your letter of 18th April, and I hasten to reply.
I am of course anxious to do what I can to see that Colonel Ferris is returned safely to his family. I fully agree with your belief that interrogation of Felix Abrego by Mexican law enforcement authorities will be quite helpful in identifying those responsible for his kidnapping and the murder of the other American officers.
To this end, I have instructed the Oaxaca State Prison officials to be prepared to receive Felix Abrego when he is delivered there by your Marshals, and to make him available for interrogation by Mexican officials.
Further, as soon as I can contact-at the moment, he’s not available-Senor Juan Carlos Pena, chief of the Policia Federal for Oaxaca State, I will direct him to call Ambassador McCann to coordinate with your Marshals the moving of Abrego to the Oaxaca State Prison, and to personally supervise his interrogation.
If there is anything else I can do, please let me know.
With warm personal regards,
Ramon
When Clendennen had finished reading the letter, he looked at Ambassador Vargas and started to say something.
The secretary of State, who had seen President Martinez’s letter, thought,
“Mr. President,” Vargas spoke first, “there is something else-another message.”
“Really?” Clendennen asked coldly.
“Yes, sir. President Martinez thought it best under the circumstances that it be delivered privately and verbally, rather than commit it to paper.”
“Privately?” Clendennen asked, then said, “Madam Secretary, would you give us a moment in privacy?”
“Mr. President,” Vargas said, “Secretary Cohen is familiar with the contents of the message. President Martinez suggested that she be with me when I deliver it, to assure you of its accuracy.”
“Well, then, Mr. Ambassador, why don’t you deliver the message President Martinez doesn’t want committed to paper?”
“Yes, sir. Quote. I am sure you will understand that what I propose is the best I can do under the circumstances at this time. End quote.”
Cohen thought:
He didn’t.
President Clendennen considered that calmly for a moment, and then politely asked, “Madam Secretary, is that the message you understand President Martinez wanted the ambassador to verbally deliver?”
“Yes, it is, Mr. President,” Cohen replied.
“Thank you, Mr. Ambassador,” the President said. “There’s no point in keeping you from the press of your duties any longer. Please be good enough to pass to President Martinez both my gratitude and my best wishes.”
“It will be my pleasure, Mr. President,” Vargas said.
“Madam Secretary,” Clendennen asked politely, “may I have a few minutes more of your time?”
“Yes, of course, Mr. President.”
The President waited until the door had closed behind Vargas, and then stood up, holding Martinez’s letter.
“Have you seen this fucking thing?” he asked furiously.
“Yes, sir, I have,” Cohen said.
“May I see it, Mr. President?” Clemens McCarthy asked.
