Max, growling deep in his throat, walked to Lammelle and showed him his teeth. Lammelle squirmed on the folding chair.

All the special operators in the room, plus Lieutenant Colonel (Designate) Naylor, chuckled.

General Naylor thought: There's that perverted sense of humor again! There's that perverted sense of humor again!

And Allan thinks that threatening to sic that enormous dog on Lammelle is perfectly acceptable conduct!

"Oh, that's right," Castillo said. "You haven't met my fiancee, have you, Frank? Sweetheart, say h.e.l.lo to Frank Lammelle. He used to be a friend of mine. Frank, the lady is former Lieutenant Colonel Svetlana Alekseeva of the SVR. And sitting next to her is her brother, former Colonel Dmitri Berezovsky of the SVR. I know you've been anxious to meet them."

There was a moment's silence.

"Lester, if Frank doesn't say 'Pleased to meet you' or 'How do you do?' in the next three seconds, dart him."

Lammelle very hastily said, "Pleased to meet you."

The special operators and Allan Junior now laughed.

"Colonel, regarding the Code of Honor," General Naylor said.

G.o.dd.a.m.n it, I'm smiling! What the h.e.l.l is happening to me?

"Yes, sir?"

"I don't know what your intentions are here, but I think I should tell you that when I am no longer constrained by my parole, I will feel free to relate to the proper authorities anything I see or hear here."

"Yes, sir. That's understood. It's not a problem, sir, as you remain here-in other words, not in a position to tell anyone anything-until this operation concludes."

Castillo looked around the room.

"I think I should make it clear before I start that-as much as I know I could have used his wise counsel-I did not ask General McNab for any a.s.sistance in coming up with this plan. The Code of Honor would have precluded him giving me any a.s.sistance."

"You're wrong about that, Charley," McNab said.

Naylor glared at him.

"On the other hand," Castillo, ignoring the comment, went on, "I have been privileged over the years to watch General McNab plan and execute maybe two dozen operations such as this one. What I'm doing now is praying that enough of his expertise has rubbed off on me so that this one will work."

He looked at Svetlana.

"And I meant that, Sweaty, about praying. That wasn't a figure of speech."

"I know, my Carlitos," Svetlana said.

"Okay, here we go," Castillo said. "Statement of the Problem: We have to interrogate General Yakov Sirinov to determine how much Congo-X the Russians have. To do this, we have to bring the general, plus whatever Congo-X he has in his possession, here.

"We know from satellite imagery that General Sirinov went from here to the airfield on La Orchila, the island off the coast of Venezuela. The latest satellite imagery we have, as of oh-six-hundred today, no longer shows the Tu-934A aircraft, but does show half a dozen of the Spetsnaz operators near what appears to be one of those canvas-and-poles, throw-it-up-overnight hangars. It is therefore reasonable to presume the Tu-934A is in the hangar; it is unlikely that Sirinov would leave the Spetsnaz in Venezuela. . . ."

"Colonel," Roscoe Danton said, "you never said where are you getting the satellite imagery ..."

Castillo nodded. "That's another of those questions, Roscoe, that I'd like to answer, but . . ."

"I know," Danton said. "You'd have to kill me if you did."

"Right," Castillo said. "Now, as far as personnel go, we're going to use as few Americans as possible. Colonel Berezovsky said that we stand a good chance, if we have the element of surprise on our side and use our ex-Spetsnaz people, to confuse Sirinov's Spetsnaz to the point where their efficiency will be substantially reduced."

"Explain that to me, Charley," General McNab said softly.

"Dmitri and our Spetsnaz get off the plane, the chopper, whatever we wind up using. Dmitri points to the nearest of Sirinov's Spetsnaz and says, 'I am Colonel Berezovsky. Take me to General Sirinov.' Dmitri thinks, and Sweaty thinks, and I agree, there's a good chance we can get away with that. If we do, we stick a pistol up Sirinov's nose. . . ."

"And if you don't?" McNab asked.

"Then we can probably disarm Sirinov's Spetsnaz. Or, if necessary, take them out."

"You don't want to start by taking them out?" McNab said.

"We're trying to avoid taking anybody out," Castillo said.

Berezovsky put in: "I think going in there with guns blazing would be counterproductive, General. And possibly disastrous. We don't know what would happen if one of those rubber barrels was subjected to machine-gun fire. We don't want little pieces of Congo-X scattered all over that airfield."

"Good point," McNab said. "What did you say, Charley, about 'whatever we wind up using'? That sounds like you're not planning to use the Black Hawks."

"We may not be able to use them," Castillo said. "The closest staging point we can use is Cozumel. And that island is thirteen hundred nautical miles, give or take, from La Orchila. The ferry range of a Black Hawk is in the book at twelve hundred. We might be able to stretch that to thirteen hundred-we probably could; d.i.c.k and I have a lot of time in Black Hawks watching the fuel exhaustion warning light blinking at us-but that would put us in La Orchila with dry tanks."

"Auxiliary fuel cells?" General Naylor asked.

"I don't know where I can get any, sir," Castillo said. "And even with fuel cells, we'd have to top off the Black Hawks, and the fuel cells, at La Orchila. That would take twenty minutes at least. I don't want to be on the ground more than fifteen minutes. And that's presuming we would be able to refuel at La Orchila."

"So what is your alternate plan?" McNab said.

"Overload the Gulfstream III-I can get a lot of people in there; maybe fifteen-to go in under the radar at first light and hope Dmitri's 'Take me to General Sirinov' order dazzles Sirinov's Spetsnaz. Then we load him and what Congo-X he has on his Tu-934A and come back here."

"What would happen to your Gulfstream?" Naylor asked.

"Sir, maybe there would be fuel there, and time to refuel. Unlikely, but possible. If not, Sparkman leaves with what fuel remains and heads for Barranquilla, Colombia. And we get on the Tu-934A and come here."

"Charley," McNab asked softly, "what would your wish list be for this operation?"

"General, we've given that very subject a lot of thought," Castillo said. "If I had my druthers, I'd commandeer four UH-60Ms from the One-Sixtieth Special Operations fleet. Two to use and two for redundancy. All with stub wings and external tanks. They would be armed with GAU-19 fifty-caliber Gatling guns and AGM-114 h.e.l.lfire laser-guided missiles to take out the commo building."

He paused, and then went on, "And since I have been a very good boy, I would like Santa to also bring me a Red Ryder BB gun and an anatomically correct Barbie doll."

McNab, D'Allessando, and Allan Junior laughed.

"Well, you asked me," Castillo said. "And, oh, I forgot: An aircraft carrier-preferably the USS Ronald Reagan Ronald Reagan-sitting somewhere out there on the blue Caribbean so that I and my stalwart band could have a last meal on the Navy before we sallied forth to battle the forces of evil."

This got the expected laughter.

"But since I don't believe in Santa Claus, I guess we'll have to go with my tired old Gulfstream III. Among other things, I suspect we're running out of time."

"How much time do you think you have?" General Naylor asked.

"Seventy-two hours tops, sir. If I had to bet, I'd wager that in forty-eight hours the Tu-934A will be on its way somewhere."

"Somewhere?"

"Sir, I have no idea where it will go. Maybe Cuba. I just don't know."

General Naylor then suddenly said, "Colonel Castillo, I herewith inform you I am withdrawing my parole."

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Allan!" General McNab said disgustedly. "Now what?"

"Yes, sir, General Naylor," Castillo said evenly. "I regret to tell you, sir, that I am placing you under arrest."

"Colonel Castillo, are you still determined to proceed on an operation that not only is unauthorized but in my professional opinion is suicidal?"

"Sir, I see going ahead with this as my duty. I beg you, sir, please don't get in my way."

General Naylor nodded, then said, "Colonel Brewer, make note of the time."

"Yes, sir. It's fourteen twenty-eight, sir."

General Naylor went on: "Make note of this, please, Colonel Brewer. Write it down. Quote. Having at fourteen twenty-seven withdrawn my parole, at fourteen twenty-eight, in the realization that I was not going to be able to deter Lieutenant Colonel Castillo from proceeding on an unauthorized operation involving Congo-X in Venezuela, I came to the conclusion that my duty lay in increasing his chances of success, as the failure of his operation would cause more damage to the United States than its success."

"Sir, I don't understand," Castillo said.

"Get me on a secure line to my headquarters at MacDill and it will be made clear to you, Colonel."

The two looked into each other's eyes for a long minute.

"Do what he says, Carlos," Svetlana said softly.

Castillo turned to Lester Bradley, and ordered: "Give the air pistol to Uncle Remus, Lester, and get a secure line to MacDill."

"Aye, aye, sir. Where will the general be calling from?"

"Mexico City," Naylor said. "I wish to speak with my deputy, General Albert McFadden, USAF."

Lester looked at Castillo for permission, and when Castillo nodded, said, "Aye, aye, sir."

"And put it on the loudspeaker," Naylor said.

"Office of the Deputy Commander, Central Command. Sergeant Major Ashley speaking, sir."

"This line is secure," Lester announced. "General Naylor calling for General McFadden."

"One moment, please."

"h.e.l.lo, boss. Where the h.e.l.l are you?"

"Mexico City, Albert. And you know why I'm here."

"Yes, sir. I do."

Naylor moved to the map on the wall.

"What's the Navy got, capable of refueling four UH-60Ms, in the area of eighteen degrees north lat.i.tude, eighty-five degrees west longitude? I need it there no later than tomorrow."

"What the h.e.l.l is going on, Allan?"

"Don't ask questions, please. Answer mine, but don't ask any. And this conversation goes no further than your ears. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. Just a moment, General."

"I can have the USS Bataan Bataan at that point by sixteen-hundred hours, sir." at that point by sixteen-hundred hours, sir."

"Tell me about the Bataan Bataan."

"It's a Wasp Wasp-cla.s.s amphibious a.s.sault ship," General McFadden said.

"I know the cla.s.s. That'll do fine. Make sure it's on station as of oh-eight-hundred tomorrow. Alert them, Top Secret, to be prepared to receive and fuel four UH-60Ms."

"Yes, sir. Sir, I'm guessing this is a black operation?"

"About as black as it can get. Hold one, Albert," General Naylor said, and turned to McNab.

"General McNab, I presume the four UH-60Ms will be coming from Fort Campbell?"

"Yes, sir," McNab said, and joined Naylor at the map.

"Where's the best jumping-off place for them to fly out to the Bataan Bataan, would you say?"

"Sir, can we use the Navy base at Key West?" McNab asked.

"General, I'm the commander in chief of Central Command. Of course we can use NAS Key West. Albert?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Tell Boca Chica airfield to be prepared to receive the Black Hawks, and order them to keep their mouths shut about it."

"Yes, sir."