Lester.”
Bradley was on his feet a second later.
“Sir, I guess I dropped off for a second.”
“Go to bed, Lester. Say, ‘Yes, sir.’ ”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
Castillo waited until Bradley had walked sleepily out of the room, then asked, “What would you say, Dr. Casey, sir, if I gave you the same order?”
“I would say, ‘Yes, sir, whatever the colonel desires, sir.’ Right after I tell you what Miller had to say and I show you what we’ve done.”
“What did Miller have to say?”
“Delchamps’s and Darby’s planes got off the ground, and so far there has been no report that they dropped into the Atlantic. And he said Doherty and Two-Gun Yung arrived. He said he’s going to install Doherty in the office to keep an eye on the FBI trying to put an eye on you, and that Yung will arrive at the Midland Airport at twelve twenty-five. He said he thought he might be useful here.”
“He will be. Thanks. And now why don’t you get some sleep?”
“You’ll notice that all four monitors are glowing dully,” Casey continued. He pointed at the monitors, one of which was on a table too small for it, and the others sitting on the floor. “But when the proper buttons are pushed, they begin to show us things. For example, the physical location of the AFCs in which I have activated the transponder.”
One of the monitors showed a map of the world. Lightning-bolt symbols showed the locations of the radios in Germany, Argentina, Uruguay, Hungary, and the United States.
“At various scales,” Casey went on, “for example, here in the States.”
A second screen lit up, with a map of the United States, showing lightning bolts in Nevada, Texas, North Carolina, and the District of Columbia.
“Or closer.”
The first screen went blank, then lit up with a map of the Washington area, with lightning bolts at the Nebraska Avenue Complex, the Baltimore airport, and the safe house in Alexandria.
“Or closer.”
The second screen now showed a map of the Baltimore airport, with a lightning bolt coming out of a hangar.
“That’s the one in your Gulfstream. And thanks to the friendly folks at Google, we have this view of that, as well.”
A third screen lit up showing a three-dimensional image of the Signature Flight Support, Inc., hangar.
“God knows that picture wasn’t taken yesterday, or even last month, but it’s better than no picture. And I sure as hell didn’t want to hack into Fort Meade.”
“Could you do that?”
“Who do you think set up their imagery? Whenever we need that, we can. Just didn’t think it wise in the middle of an op.”
Castillo was awed. He smiled. “Go to bed, Aloysius.”
“And so far as people are concerned”—Casey punched more buttons on a keyboard. The world map reappeared with symbols of humans—“this shows the last known location of everybody of interest.”
Casey then repeated the process of demonstration, which this time ended with a three-dimensional view of the ranch house, above which was a line of numbered symbols. A chart to the right identified the numbers. Castillo was represented by the number 1, Casey by the number 2, and so on.
“I’m awed.”
“This is pretty rough, Charley, but it’s up and running.”
“Now, go to bed. We’re going to have to wait for what comes next.”
“I think I will.”
“Thanks, Aloysius.”
Casey yawned, then made a deprecating gesture and walked out of the library.
Castillo sat down in the armchair Lester had vacated, reached for the coffee thermos, poured himself a cup, and began to wait for what would come next.
XVII
[ONE]
Double-Bar-C Ranch
Near Midland, Texas
1725 9 January 2006
The first thing Castillo had to wait for was the arrival of former FBI Special Agent David W. Yung, Jr. Jack Davidson, who had gone into Midland to meet Yung at the airport, called at half past twelve to report that Yung hadn’t been on the plane, had probably missed his connection at Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport and might be on the next plane, or planes, one of which was due at two something and the other at four something.
Castillo told him to wait. He didn’t want a record, should the FBI have a “locate but do not detain” out on their former co-worker, that Two-Gun had rented a vehicle and driven himself from the airport to the Double-Bar- C.
That hadn’t happened. Yung walked off the next regional jet that landed at Midland International.
Minutes before Two-Gun and Davidson walked into the ranch’s library, Corporal Bradley had updated the data bank with new information. Colonel Hamilton’s suitcases were now in Fort Bragg. But the 727 had not yet left for Africa. It had been discovered that an Air Tanzania already existed, which made it necessary to remove most of that color scheme and replace it with a scheme identifying the aircraft as part of the fleet of Sub-Saharan Airways, Ltd.
Corporal Bradley was thus able to demonstrate the command post’s new installed technical capabilities to Yung.
While he was doing that, one of the AFCs went off, the caller identified as Alex Darby. He was in Fulda, in Otto Gorner’s office. A conversation followed, during which it was learned that Edgar Delchamps’s going to Vienna had been something of a mistake, as Eric Kocian was in Budapest. God only knew when he’d get to Budapest now. It was also learned that the transmission of the late Herr Friedler’s notes would be begun as soon as they could be scanned.
As Lester was demonstrating how the changed data—Last Known Location of 7-Darby, A—could be entered into the data bank so that it could be shown on one of the monitors, Svetlana came into the library. She wore another new cowgirl suit, one much like the other—just as form-fitting—but the denim was red in color.
She kissed Castillo somewhat less than chastely on the mouth, then whispered something in his ear, and then finally said, “Lester, if you’ll show me how to do that, I can do it.”
“It’s not hard, Colonel,” Bradley replied, at which point Castillo deduced from the look on Two-Gun’s face that he now understood the cowgirl was one of the Russians Castillo had gotten out of Vienna, and also that Miller had not advised him that the relationship between the Russian defector and Colonel Castillo was not one that one would normally expect.
“Close your mouth, Two-Gun,” Davidson advised, “and pay attention to what Lester’s teaching Sweaty. You’re here; you’re going to be on the duty roster.”
[TWO]
0700 10 January 2006
The world map now showed that the Sub-Saharan Airways 727, having refueled in Morocco, was somewhere over the Sahara Desert, en route to Kilimanjaro International Airport, Tanzania.
It also showed Colonel Hamilton and DeWitt in Brussels, Belgium, where they would board an Air France flight to Dar Es Salaam International Airport, Tanzania, at 2300.
