W. Griffin - Covert Warriors

FBI Director Mark Schmidt, presidential press secretary Clemens McCarthy, and Supervisory Secret Service Agent Robert J. Mulligan were already in the room when Secretary of Defense Frederick K. Beiderman walked in.

Beiderman nodded at them, and said, “Good morning, Mr. President.”

“We’ve been waiting for you,” President Joshua Ezekiel Clendennen said as he rose from his small “working desk.” He walked to a library table on one side of the room. “Take a look at what we have to show you.”

Clendennen gestured to Mulligan, who handed McCarthy a large manila envelope. McCarthy walked to the table, opened the envelope, and took from it a sheaf of eight-by-ten-inch color photographs. As if laying out a hand of solitaire, he laid them one at a time, side by side, in four rows on the table. When he was finished, the table was nearly covered.

Clendennen gestured for Beiderman to examine the pictures. He did so, then raised his head and asked, “Exactly what am I looking at, Mr. President?”

“These photographs were taken yesterday afternoon outside suite 1002 in the Mayflower Hotel,” McCarthy said.

“They were taken by FBI photographers, so they will stand up as evidence in court, if it ever comes to that,” Clendennen amplified.

“Yes, sir. Who are these people, Mr. President?”

“Don’t tell me you couldn’t pick anyone you know from them?”

“Well, sir, I of course recognize Roscoe Danton and Colonel Castillo-”

“ Retired Lieutenant Colonel Castillo, you mean?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what about my former press secretary, Porky Parker. Did you recognize him?”

“Yes, sir, of course. But I don’t recognize any of the others.”

“You didn’t see any of them at Arlington the day before yesterday? Maybe as they got into their limousines and drove off just as I was beginning my remarks?”

“I didn’t make that connection, sir. Who are they, sir? And what were they doing at the Mayflower?”

“They’re soldiers. Five of them are commissioned officers, seven of them are warrant officers, and the remaining ten are senior noncommissioned officers. They are all assigned to General McNab’s Special Operations Command at Fort Bragg-to the Delta Force and Gray Fox components thereof.”

“Yes, sir?”

“As to what they were doing at the Mayflower, they were having a party. The host was Lieutenant Colonel Castillo, Retired.”

“I don’t think I understand, Mr. President,” Beiderman said.

“What I want you to do, Mr. Secretary,” President Clendennen said, “is take these photographs to General Naylor. Tell him to show them to General McNab as proof that we know what he’s up to-”

“Sir?”

“Please don’t interrupt me, Beiderman,” the President said unpleasantly. “Tell Naylor to show these photographs to General McNab, and to tell McNab that if he immediately applies for retirement, that will be the end of it.”

“The end of what, Mr. President?”

“McCarthy thinks the less we put into words at this time, the better,” the President said. “For reasons that should be obvious to you.”

“I’m afraid they’re not, Mr. President,” Beiderman said. “Frankly, I don’t understand any of this.”

“I think you do,” the President said icily.

“The only thing I understand is that you want General McNab to resign.”

“Correct.”

“Presumably in connection with this party in the Mayflower?”

“McNab will understand when General Naylor shows him these pictures, and, aware that I am repeating myself, tells him he can end this whole thing by immediately retiring, and that will be the end of it.”

“The end of what whole thing, sir?”

“If you give it some thought as you’re traveling to CENTCOM to see General Naylor, I’m sure it will come to you, Mr. Secretary. Call me the minute Naylor has McNab’s request for retirement in hand.”

Clemens McCarthy bent over the table, slid the photographs together, stacked them neatly together, and handed them to Mulligan, who returned them to the envelope and then handed the envelope to Secretary Beiderman.

President Clendennen didn’t seem to notice when Beiderman left the room.

Office of the Commander in Chief United States Central Command MacDill Air Force Base Tampa, Florida 1245 17 April 2007

Colonel J. D. Brewer pushed open the door and formally announced, “General Naylor, the secretary of Defense.”

Naylor was out of his chair and on the way to the door before Beiderman was halfway through it.

Beiderman offered his hand.

“Mr. Secretary, I’m a little uncomfortable not having been at the field. .”

“Don’t be silly,” Beiderman said. “I told Colonel Brewer I would prefer that you not meet me. The less fuss about this, the better.”

“Yes, sir. Won’t you please sit down?”

“Thank you,” Beiderman said, and looked askance at Colonel Brewer.

Naylor caught that, and said, “That will be all, Colonel. Thank you.”

Brewer left and closed the door behind him. The implication was that SECDEF and C-in-C CENTCOM were now alone. The truth-which really made Naylor uncomfortable-was that he had ordered his senior aide-de-camp to go into the sergeant major’s office and listen to and record whatever was going to happen in his office.

“Can I offer coffee, sir? Or something to eat? Or ask you to join me in my mess for lunch?”

“Thank you, no. I had a sandwich on the plane. General, let me get right to it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Beiderman opened his attache case and took out a large manila envelope.

“Have a look, General,” he said as he handed Naylor the envelope. “The President gave me those just before he ordered me to come down here.”

Naylor took the sheaf of color photographs from the envelope and looked at each before raising his eyes to Beiderman.

“The President desires, General,” Beiderman said, “that you personally show those photographs to General McNab, tell him the President knows what he’s up to, and that if he immediately applies for retirement, that will be the end of it.”

Naylor didn’t reply.

“I suggest the best way to accomplish the President’s desires is for us to immediately fly to Fort Bragg, in separate aircraft. Once you have done what the President desires and have General McNab’s request for retirement in hand, I will take it to the President and you can come back here, and that will be the end of it.”

Again Naylor didn’t reply.

“I will entertain your recommendations as to a replacement for General McNab at SPECOPSCOM,” Beiderman said, “but I suspect the President has someone in mind for the post.”

And once more Naylor didn’t reply.

“Did you understand what I just told you, General Naylor?”

“No, Mr. Secretary, I’m afraid I didn’t.”

“What didn’t you understand, General?”

“For one thing, Mr. Secretary, the photographs. Who are they of, and what are they supposed to show?”

“They were taken by FBI agents the day before yesterday in the Mayflower Hotel in D.C. They show a number of members of Delta Force and Gray Fox. They were taken after these individuals walked out on the President’s remarks at Arlington. They were at a party given by retired Lieutenant Colonel Castillo.”

“And what is the connection with General McNab, sir?”

“My God, Naylor! General McNab commands Gray Fox and Delta Force; he’s responsible for them.”

“Mr. Secretary, I have already discussed the presence of these soldiers at Mr. Salazar’s interment with General McNab. He denies having anything to do with their being there. He also tells me that he has not been in touch with Colonel Castillo since before Mr. Salazar was murdered and Colonel Ferris kidnapped.”