The shooters pa-4

by W. E. B Griffin

  "It's against the law, for one thing," Milton Weiss said.

  "Oh, come on, Weiss," John Walsh of the DEA said. "They all do it, and we all know they do it, and you know as well as I do that there's nothing really wrong with it."

  Good for you, Walsh. I think I like you.

  "If I'm getting into something here that perhaps I shouldn't?" DeBois said.

  "Whatever you heard from your people couldn't really be called reliable intelligence, could it?" Ellsworth said. "It would be, in legal terms, 'hearsay,' would it not?"

  "I'd like to hear the hearsay," Castillo said.

  Ellsworth flashed Castillo an icy look.

  Is that because he doesn't like me challenging him?

  Or because he doesn't want DeBois to report what Lorimer told him?

  "Please go on, sir," Castillo said.

  "I thought you were chairing this meeting, Mr. Ellsworth?" Weiss demanded.

  "We're supposed to be sharing intel, so let's share it," Castillo said.

  Careful, Charley, you don't want to lose your temper.

  After a moment's hesitation, Ellsworth said, "I think if Colonel Castillo wants to hear what Colonel DeBois has to say, then we should. With my caveat that it really is hearsay."

  "Actually, rather than hard intelligence," DeBois said, "what Lieutenant Lorimer provided might be called background-his informal assessment of the problems down there, his own opinions, plus what he heard from Special Agent Timmons and others."

  "Why don't you get on with it, Colonel?" Weiss said impatiently. "So the rest of us can get out of here?"

  "Very well," DeBois said. "Lorimer reported that Timmons said, and he agreed, that the drug operations in Paraguay are more sophisticated than might be expected."

  "Sophisticated?" Weiss parroted incredulously.

  "The drug people in Paraguay seemed to be taking unusual steps to keep from calling attention to themselves," DeBois said.

  "I thought all drug dealers did that," Weiss said.

  "If you keep interrupting Colonel DeBois, Mr. Weiss," Castillo said, "we'll all be here a long time. Why not let him finish, and then offer your comments all at once?"

  Colonel DeBois looked at Castillo gratefully, then went on: "According to Lorimer, Timmons said they had sort of a system, a sophisticated system, of dealing with the Paraguayan authorities. A system of rewards and punishment."

  "I'd like to hear about that," Walsh said. "This is all news to me."

  "For one example, people approach the children of Paraguayan police on their way home from school. They give them envelopes to give to their mothers. The envelopes contain money."

  "I don't understand," Mrs. Dumbrowsky said.

  "Well, to Special Agent Timmons, it was pretty clear it was a message. If you don't give us trouble, we will give you money. And if you do, we know where to find your family."

  "Mr. Walsh, how experienced an agent was Timmons?" Weiss asked.

  "He hadn't been down there long, if that's what you're asking," Walsh said.

  "And how long had he been with the DEA?"

  "He hasn't been in DEA very long, but if you're suggesting he was-that he is-sort of a rookie, I don't think that's right. He was a cop in Chicago. He comes from a family of cops. And he's a lawyer. He was recruited for the DEA by one of our guys in Chicago who met him and liked what he saw. He's fluent in Spanish."

  "Go on, please, Colonel," Weiss said, "and tell us whatever else this very bright, very new DEA agent has theorized."

  Colonel DeBois nodded and said, "Timmons also saw sophistication in how these people dealt with DEA agents. There were significant differences. For one thing, there were no envelopes with money, which Timmons felt was significant because it meant that the drug people knew the DEA agents could neither be bought nor coerced by threats against their families. Or because the drug people knew that injuring-or killing-the family of an American would bring a good deal of attention."

  "But they are willing to kidnap DEA agents?" Inspector Saffery of the FBI asked.

  That's the first time he's opened his mouth.

  "Oh, yes."

  "One would think that DEA agents would protect themselves from being kidnapped," Weiss said. "Wouldn't you, Inspector?"

  "Very few FBI agents are kidnapped," Saffery said, chuckling.

  "That's what Timmons found interesting," DeBois said.

  "Doesn't kidnapping imply a ransom?" Norman Seacroft, of the Treasury Department, asked. "That's interesting! How much did they ask?"

  "Kidnapping is taking someone against his or her will," Saffery said, somewhat intolerantly. "There doesn't have to be a ransom element."

  "These people don't ask for a ransom?"

  "Not so far," Walsh said.

  "Then why do they kidnap them? And how do we get them back?" Seacroft asked.

  "According to what Timmons told Lorimer, they kidnap them to suggest that working too hard to interdict the flow of drugs is not smart."

  "But they turn them loose, right?" Seacroft said.

  "As I understand it, all the DEA agents who have been kidnapped have been returned unharmed," Weiss said.

  "Mr. Weiss, are you suggesting that becoming addicted to heroin is not being harmed?" Colonel DeBois asked, coldly courteous.

  "Addicted to heroin?" Seacroft parroted.

  DeBois explained, "I don't know the exact figure-Timmons didn't know-but at least two kidnapped DEA agents who were turned free by their captors had become addicted to heroin."

  "Four," Walsh said.

  "Let me make sure I understand this," Inspector Saffery said. "While these people held the DEA agents, they forced heroin on them? Turned them into addicts?"

  "Correct," Walsh said.

  "That's hard to believe!" Mrs. Dumbrowsky said.

  "The ones who were addicted were released after there had been a successful delivery of a large drug shipment," Walsh said.

  "This is the first I've heard of this!" Saffery said, indignantly.

  "Inspector," Walsh said, "think about it. If you were a field agent who had become involuntarily addicted, would you like that information to become widely known? Even-perhaps especially-within the FBI?"

  "As Mr. Ellsworth has pointed out, this is nothing more than hearsay," Mrs. Dumbrowsky said. "The State Department has heard nothing like this."

  "And unless the colonel has some more fascinating hearsay to relate," Weiss said, "I really do have other things to do."

  He stood up.

  "As a matter of fact, Mr. Weiss, I wasn't quite through," DeBois said, coldly.

  Weiss reluctantly sat down.

  "Putting everything together, Timmons had been wondering if perhaps the Paraguayan drug-shipment operation was being run by someone other than the Paraguayan/Colombian/Bolivian drug people."

  Castillo glanced at Weiss.

  You didn't expect to hear that, did you, Milton?

  But who is he talking about?

  I can't believe that Timmons got into the Stasi/DGI involvement.

  "That's absurd!" Weiss said.

  "Why is it absurd, Mr. Weiss?" DeBois asked, courteously.

  "On its face," Weiss said.

  "Wait a minute," Saffery said. "Why not? The drug trade didn't start last week. A lot of these people have lived in the States for years-some of them even legally with Green Cards, even citizenship-"

  "Your point, Inspector?" Weiss interrupted.

  "What I'm saying is that they've been in the States long enough to figure out what Cousin Jose back in Colombia has been doing wrong and to tell him how to do it right."

  "Define 'right' for me, please, Inspector," Weiss said.

  "Don't kill our DEA people," Saffery said. "That draws attention to you. Knock off that macho bullshit-excuse me, Mrs. Dumbrowsky-that doesn't make us any money. Getting the stuff through is what makes us money."

  "With all respect, Inspector, I still think that's absurd," Weiss said, and stood up again. "Mr. Ellsworth, if I have to say this
, if the agency comes by some solid intelligence, it will be immediately brought to your attention, and that of Ambassador Montvale."

  "Thank you," Ellsworth said.

  The rest of the CIA delegation was now on its feet.

  They followed Weiss to the door.

  "Not that one, Weiss," Castillo blurted. "That's the door to my office."

  By then Weiss had cracked the door open.

  He turned to look at Castillo.

  Max, towing Sergeant Phillips behind him, shouldered the door open.

  The edge caught Weiss on the side of the face.

  "Sonofabitch!" he exclaimed, and backed away, running into the rest of the CIA delegation and causing further consternation. No one actually fell down, but almost, and two briefcases hit the floor.

  Max went to Castillo, sat down, and offered him his paw.

  "Colonel, I'm sorry," Phillips said. "I didn't realize how strong he is!"

  "Presumably, Castillo, that animal is yours?" Ellsworth said.

  "Actually, I'm just minding him for a friend," Castillo said. "You all right, Mr. Weiss?"

  Weiss glared at him, then marched to the other door, and the CIA delegation departed.

  The others in the room were reacting as if an auto accident had just happened before their eyes. No one moved, or showed any inclination to do so.

  "Well, it would appear this meeting is over," Castillo said.

  Ellsworth looked at him with a stone face, then turned to those at the table and said, "Yes, it would appear that way. Thank you, all, for coming."

  "Colonel," Castillo said to Colonel DeBois. "May I have a moment of your time, sir?"

  He gestured toward the open door to his office.

  DeBois nodded, stood up, and walked to the door, then through it. Castillo, with Max and Phillips behind him, followed, and then Miller.

  "Dick," Castillo said, "close and lock that behind you, will you, please?"

  "I thought I heard you say 'my office,'" DeBois said. "Are you going to tell me what's going on here, Colonel?"

  Castillo did not immediately respond.

  He said, "Take the leash off Max, Phillips, and then see if you can raise the safe house."

  "Yes, sir."

  Max-as if he had understood what Castillo had ordered-sat down and allowed Phillips to remove the wire leash from his neck. Phillips went into the commo room. Max walked to Castillo and lay down at his feet.

  Castillo met DeBois's eyes.

  "Sir, with respect, you are not here and never have been here. But if you had been here, everything you might have seen, heard, or intuited is classified Top Secret Presidential."

  DeBois's eyebrows rose, but he didn't reply.

  Phillips came to the door of the commo room and said, "We're up, sir."

  "Sir?" Castillo said, and asked DeBois with his eyes to go ahead of him into the commo room.

  Sergeant Neidermeyer handed Castillo the handset.

  The screen flashed the legend SUSANNA SIENO.

  Castillo pressed the speaker button, then said: "Good morning, Susanna."

  "How are things in our nation's capital?"

  "I just had an unpleasant session with one of your coworkers, a guy named Milton Weiss. Know him?"

  "Unfortunately."

  "Is Eddie Lorimer around?"

  "Right here, Colonel," Lorimer's voice came over the speaker.

  "Colonel DeBois of DIA has been asking about you."

  "I guess that was bound to happen. Colonel DB's one of the good guys, Colonel. What did you tell him?"

  "Nothing, of course," Castillo said. "Hold one, Eddie."

  He put his hand over the microphone.

  "I'm sorry, Colonel," Castillo said. "But that concludes your tour of the Office of Organizational Analysis."

  DeBois looked at him a long moment before he spoke.

  "Thank you, Colonel Castillo. If you ever need anything, anything at all, you know where to find me."

  "Thank you, sir. And if you hear anything interesting, I'd be grateful if you'd pass it to Major Miller."

  DeBois nodded and walked out of the commo room. Castillo put the handset to his ear and turned off the speaker.

  "Susanna, how long will it take to get just about everybody there? Including Darby and Santini? And Munz."

  "Probably the better part of two hours."

  "Well, it's important. So will you set it up, please? Give me a call when everybody's there."

  "Will do," she said.

  "Break it down, Neidermeyer," Castillo said, and handed him the handset. "Stay loose. As soon as I'm finished with that call, we're off."

  "Yes, sir."

  Castillo walked out of the commo room and sat down at his desk.

  "You shut off the phones in the hotel?" he asked.

  Miller shook his head.

  Castillo picked up one of the telephones on his desk and punched one of the buttons on it.

  "And how are you this bright and sunny morning, Uncle Billy?" Castillo asked in German.

  "I probably shouldn't admit this to you," Eric Kocian said, "but I'm actually feeling pretty chipper. Madchen and I took our morning constitutional past the White House. I was reminded of what people say about Paris."

  "Which is?"

  "Beautiful city. If it wasn't for the people, I'd love it. And then I came back to the hotel and had a word with the manager-"

  "What didn't you like?"

  "I told him that once he provided a decent leather armchair with footrest, the accommodations would be satisfactory. And to continue to send the bill to Fulda."

  "Billy, what am I supposed to do with Max?"

  "You were the one who sent Madchen to him. As ye sow, so shall ye reap."

  "I've been thinking of sending him to my grandmother."

  "His broken heart would be on your conscience, Karlchen. Max took one look at you and-for reasons that baffle me-transferred his affections to you. But dogs choose their masters, you know, rather than the other way around."

  Castillo looked across his office. Max was lying on the carpet in front of the couch, his head between his paws, looking at him.

  "Where was Sandor Tor when you took your walk this morning?"

  "He insisted on going with me. He and an apparently deaf man from the Secret Service. He wears a hearing aid and keeps talking to his lapel."

  Castillo laughed, even though he knew he shouldn't.

  "You know why he's there, Billy."

  "Even as much as they dislike me, I don't think the FSB is going to try to shoot me in front of the White House."

  "Never underestimate your enemy. Write that down, Uncle Billy."

  "If you have nothing important to say, Karlchen, the hotel has at long last delivered our breakfast. They do a very nice corned beef hash with poached eggs. I suspect Madchen will like it."

  "I've got to go out of town for a couple of days. We'll resume this conversation when I get back."

  "Remember not to give Max more than one small piece of chocolate at a time. Too much chocolate gives him flatulence. Auf Wiedersehen, Karlchen."

  Castillo put the handset back in its cradle. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but didn't. A red LED on another telephone was flashing. Castillo leaned to it to read the legend.

  "Montvale," he said, and reached for it.

  "That didn't take long, did it?" Miller asked.

  "Good morning, Mr. Ambassador," Castillo said. "Why do I think you've just been talking to Mr. Ellsworth?"

  "He has a phone in his Yukon," Montvale said. "Did you actually bring that dog to the meeting?"

  "Actually, Max invited himself."

  "I gather the meeting wasn't all that we hoped it would be?"

  "I didn't learn much that I didn't already know."

  "So what's next?"

  "In case the President asks?"

  "In case the President asks."

  "Well, I have to go to MacDill to see General McNab, and then to Fort Rucker to see about Huey
s, and then to Mississippi to see if I can talk Ambassador Lorimer out of going to Uruguay."

  "Your plane is back already?"

  "No. I'm going to travel in unparalleled luxury and comfort in an ExecuJet aircraft."

  "Which will not be able to land at either MacDill or Fort Rucker without making waves. Would you like to use my plane?"

  "I'd love to use your plane. But what if you need it?"

  "I'll get something from Andrews."

  "Then I gratefully accept. Thank you."

  "It'll be waiting for you in, say, thirty minutes. Keep in touch, Charley."

  "Yes, sir. I will."

  The line went dead.

  "Do you think he's loaning you his airplane because he likes you," Miller asked, "or because he can now tell the President he loaned it to you?"

  "You have a suspicious and devious mind, Major Miller. Have you ever considered a career in intelligence?"

  "Charley, if you want-it would save you two hours-I can bring the people in Argentina up to speed. Unless there's something I don't know?"

  "Bottom line: Make no waves."

  Miller nodded.

  Castillo stood up and walked to the door of the commo room.

  "Come on, Neidermeyer," he said. "We're off."

  [THREE]

  MacDill Air Force Base

  Tampa, Florida 1135 4 September 2005 The ground handlers wanded the Gulfstream V to a stop on the visiting aircraft tarmac. An Air Force master sergeant, who Castillo had decided was a combination of crew chief and steward, moved quickly to open the door.

  Max, who had been lying in the aisle beside Castillo's chair, greeted him at the door and went down the steps long before anyone could stop him.

  Castillo looked out his window, vainly hoping that no one would be watching.

  General Bruce J. McNab was marching toward the aircraft. Two officers, one middle-aged and the other younger, were on his heels. All were wearing the Army combat uniform, a loose-fitting garment of light green, gray, and tan camouflage material, worn with the jacket outside the trousers. All were wearing green berets.

  One of McNab's rather bushy eyebrows rose and his head moved toward the nose of the aircraft. Castillo couldn't see what he was watching, but there was a very good chance he was watching Max void his bladder on the nose gear.

  "Sorry, Colonel," Neidermeyer said. "That sonofabitch is quick."