Black Ops

“I thought Duffy was our evil leprechaun.”

“Comandante Liam Duffy is our evil leprechaun in Argentina. I was referring to our evil leprechaun in Uruguay, one Ambassador Michael A. McGrory.”

“Oh. Thank you for the clarification. And what is the secretary going to say to the ambassador?”

“That she is dispatching a Secret Service agent by the name of Britton—recently a member of the Vice President’s Protection Detail—to ensure the safety of Ambassador Lorimer, and that he is to be given what support he asks for and not to be assigned other duties.”

“Did you happen to mention the circumstances under which Britton left the protection detail?”

“Yeah. I don’t try to con her. She’s (a) too nice and (b) too smart. I told her just about everything except his rudeness to the SACs. And then I asked her what she thought about sending him to check on the ambassador’s security arrangements, and she thought that was a splendid idea.”

“You knew she would. She really likes the old guy. You don’t consider that conning her?”

“No, I don’t.”

Torine shook his head.

“You noticed that thanks to a lovely tailwind we didn’t have to land for fuel?” Torine asked.

Castillo nodded.

“We’re about two hundred miles—half an hour—from Flughafen Frankfurt am Main,” Torine went on.“There was an in-flight advisory just now; we are to be met by unidentified government authorities.”

Castillo raised his eyebrows, then looked at Davidson. “Jack, make sure to remind me to remind everybody my name is Gossinger.”

“Jawohl, Herr Oberst.”

“Just ‘herr,’ Jack. My grandfather was the oberst. I’m the ne’er-do-well heir to the fruit of his hard labor.”

“I knew that,” Davidson said.

Ground Control directed the Gulfstream to a tarmac and collection of buildings away from the main terminal. Castillo thought—but wasn’t sure—that it was probably what was left of what had been Rhine-Main USAF Base.

A number of vehicles—Castillo recognized both Otto Gorner’s company Mercedes-Benz S600 and his personal Jaguar XJ—were waiting for them. Gorner was out of his Jaguar and headed for the airplane before the stair door swung open.

When Gorner came up the stairs, Max growled.

“Get your goddamned animal under control, Billy!” Gorner almost shouted.

“That’s Karlchen’s goddamned animal, Otto,” Kocian replied. “Talk to him.”

Gorner looked around the cabin, then at Castillo.

“I thought you were coming alone,” he said unpleasantly, the translation of which was I told you not to bring anybody from the CIA with you.

“Obviously, you were wrong,” Kocian said, then nodded in the direction of the crowd outside his window. “Who are all these people, Otto?”

“Some are from the Bundeskriminalamt, some are our security people, and some are the press.”

“The press?” Castillo asked incredulously.

“The Tages Zeitung is going to offer a reward—fifty thousand euros—for information leading to the arrest of the people who killed Gunther Friedler,” Gorner said evenly. “And that announcement will be made by you, Herr von und zu Gossinger, as chairman of the executive committee, just as soon as you get off this airplane.”

He handed Castillo a sheet of paper.

“I took the liberty of preparing a few words for you to say when you make the announcement,” Gorner said.

Jack Davidson saw the look in Castillo’s eyes.

“Easy, Charley,” Davidson said softly in Pashtu, one of the two major languages of Afghanistan, the other being Afghan Persian. “Be cool. Count to two thousand five hundred eleven. By threes. In Russian. Slowly.”

Gorner looked at Davidson, clearly annoyed that he didn’t understand what had been said.

Castillo met Davidson’s eyes. He nodded and smiled just perceptibly. He was aware that he was furious, and had already ordered himself to put his mouth on total shutdown.

He glanced at Gorner and thought: Since I don’t think you want me set up to be killed, Otto, what the fuck were you thinking?

Is this punishment for bringing what you think is the CIA with me?

No. You wrote my speech before you knew I had.

What this is, is Teutonic stupidity!

He looked back at Davidson and said in Russian, “Two thousand five hundred eight. Two thousand five hundred eleven.”

Now both Kocian and Gorner looked at him in confusion.

“Daddy’s proud of you,” Davidson said in Pashtu, and meant it. He had been witness to Castillo losing his temper. “You get a gold star to take home to Mommy.”

“That’s a very good idea, Otto,” Castillo said in English. “And thank you for this.” He held up the sheet of paper. “After I announce the reward, what happens?”

“We go to Wetzlar so that you and Billy can pay your respects to Frau Friedler.”

“I see a couple of problems with that, Otto. One is that I didn’t know Herr Friedler or his wife and feel that I would be intruding on Frau Friedler’s time with Billy.”

Kocian grunted his agreement.

“Another is the dogs,” Castillo went on. “I don’t think Billy wants to take Madchen and the pups, and I know I don’t want—”

“Pups?” Gorner asked. “You mean baby dogs?”

“Four of them,” Castillo said, pointing down the aisle at the travel kennel. “One of them is a gift from Billy and myself to your kids, our godchildren.”

“We can talk about that later,” Gorner said.

“And I want to get Inspector Doherty and Special Agent Yung—”

“Who?”

“They’re FBI, Otto. I want to get them together with the German police as quickly as possible—”

“Karl, I don’t know about that,” Gorner protested.

“We’re going to need all the help we can get to find these murderers, Otto,” Billy Kocian said. “And Doherty and Yung are recognized experts in their fields.”

He didn’t say which fields, Castillo thought admiringly.

I don’t think either one of them knows much about investigating a murder. But Billy knows Otto can be a self-righteous pain in the ass unless you control him.

And already Billy is acting in charge, letting Otto know, as I’d hoped.

“I’ll get on the phone,” Gorner said.

“So what I’m thinking, Otto, is that it would be best if you took Billy to Wetzlar and I took Doherty and Yung to Marburg—put them up in the Europaischer Hof, where they could get together with the authorities first thing in the morning. Then I’ll take everybody else—including the dogs—with me in either the Jag or the Mercedes and the van to the Haus im Wald. That make sense?”

“It does to me,” Billy Kocian said, his tone suggesting his opinion settled the matter once and for all.

Gorner looked at him for a long moment, made a face of resignation, and nodded.

“Take my Jaguar,” he said. “I suspect I will need a drink—several drinks—in Wetzlar, and I don’t want to drink and drive.”

[FOUR]

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