W. Griffin: Covert Warriors

“Did you really think you could put my Carlos in your pocket for a miserable two hundred thousand dollars?” Senorita Barlow demanded.

“Senorita Barlow,” Annapolis said reasonably, “that was all that Colonel Castillo asked for.”

“Score one for the Navy, Sweaty,” Castillo said.

During her association with the Merry Outlaws, “Svetlana” had quickly morphed first to “Svet” and then even more quickly to “Sweaty.”

Annapolis pressed his advantage.

“We stood willing to provide whatever was asked for,” he said.

“Yeah,” Aloysius Casey said, “but you thought you were buying something that wasn’t for sale.”

“It seems to me,” Investment Banker said, “if I may say so, that our problem has been one of communication. .”

“I just told you what our problem was,” Casey interrupted. “You thought you were buying something that wasn’t for sale.”

“It seems to me, if I may say so,” Delchamps said sarcastically, “that the Irishman has just put both thumbs on the problem. You thought you owned us for two hundred thousand.”

There was silence for a moment, then Investment Banker said, “If I may continue, gentlemen?”

He interpreted the silence that followed to mean there was no objection, and he went on: “If either of us had, when suspicions arose, contacted the other. .”

“You were suspicious of us ?” Yung challenged sarcastically.

“Yes, indeed, Counselor,” Investment Banker said. “Perhaps I was being paranoid, but when the Locator suddenly showed Colonel Castillo to be halfway between Budapest and Vienna-on a Danube riverboat that has the reputation of being a floating brothel-when last we’d heard he was on the Lopez Fruit and Vegetables Mexico property, I began to question Dr. Casey’s data, and thought we might be having a problem.”

“I thought putting Charley on the Love Boat was a nice touch,” Delchamps said smugly.

Casey explained: “We were just a little worried that one of you might tell Montvale, or maybe even Clendennen, that Charley was in Mexico-and where.”

President Clendennen recently had appointed Charles W. Montvale to be his Vice President. He had previously been director of National Intelligence.

“To be completely honest,” Annapolis said, “that path of action was discussed. The phrase I used at the time was ‘over my dead body.’ And obviously I prevailed.” He looked at Castillo. “I give you my word of honor, Colonel.”

We have just knocked rings , Castillo thought.

A former member of the Brigade of Midshipmen of the Naval Academy has just given his word of honor to a former member of the Corps of Cadets at West Point, fully expecting him to take it.

And the funny thing is, I’m going to do just that.

“I’ll take your word,” Castillo said. “Operative word, your . To be completely honest, you’re the only one of your crew I trust.”

“Some small progress is better than none at all,” Hotelier said. “For your information, Colonel, we take no actions of that sort unless there is unanimity among us.”

Castillo didn’t reply.

“Without objection, I will continue with the toast,” Hotelier said. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the magnificent success of Operation March Hare.”

Champagne was sipped. Max took the opportunity to help himself to a bacon-wrapped oyster.

“There’s liable to be a toothpick in that,” Sweaty said with concern.

“Max knows who we’re dealing with,” Castillo said. “He looked carefully before he grabbed it. He also sniffed for cyanide.”

There were a few chuckles at this.

“Very droll,” Investment Banker said. “But if we are to continue working together. .”

“And whatever gave you the idea that is even a remote possibility?” Castillo asked.

“Because we share the same objective,” Hotelier said. “Of defending the United States from all enemies, foreign and domestic.”

“I heard somewhere that patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel,” Castillo said. “Would you be interested in my take on You People?”

“I suspect we’re going to get it even if all of us chorused, ‘Hell, no,’ ” Annapolis said. “But I’d like to hear it.”

“You started out with good intentions,” Castillo said. “And I’ll admit that the money you’ve provided to SPECOPSCOM-and I presume to the Agency and others-helped them to do things that they wouldn’t have been able to do because they couldn’t get the funds from Congress.

“But then-how did that Englishman put it? ‘Power corrupts. .’ ”

“If you’re talking about John Emerich Edward Dalberg-Acton, First Baron Acton,” Annapolis said, “what he said was ‘All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely.’ ”

“Thank you,” Castillo said. “Sweaty, Annapolis men always like to demonstrate their erudition.”

Delchamps laughed.

“I tend to agree with the first part of that quotation,” Annapolis went on. “Is that what you’re suggesting happened here?”

“Bull’s-eye, Admiral,” Castillo said.

“Actually, I was a commander,” Annapolis said. “All right, Colonel, we’re guilty as charged. What would you have us do? Commit seppuku?”

“That’d work for you,” Castillo said. “But I don’t see any VFW buttons on your pals.”

“What are you talking about?” Sweaty demanded.

“Seppuku, my love, also known as hara-kiri, is what defeated samurai-warriors-do to atone for their sins. It involves stabbing yourself in the belly with a sword and then giving it a twist. But only warriors are allowed to do that.”

Delchamps chuckled.

“I don’t have a VFW pin, Colonel,” Radio and TV Stations said. “But I do have a baseball cap with the legend PALM BEACH CHAPTER, VIETNAM HELICOPTER PILOTS ASSOCIATION embroidered in gold on it. Would you say that gives me the right to disembowel myself?”

“Only if you didn’t buy the cap at a yard sale,” Castillo said.

Radio and TV Stations did not look anything like what comes to mind when the term warrior was used.

“I got mine after I showed them my DD 214 and gave them fifty bucks,” Radio and TV Stations said.

DD 214 was the Defense Department’s form that listed one’s military service, qualifications, and any decorations.

“You were a helicopter pilot in Vietnam?” Castillo asked, but even as the words came out of his mouth he knew that was the case.

Radio and TV Stations met Castillo’s eyes and nodded.

“I’ll be a sonofabitch,” Castillo said.

“It gets better than that, Castillo,” Annapolis said. “Tell him, Chopper Jockey.”

“I’d planned to tell you this at some time, but not under these circumstances,” Radio and TV Stations said, “but what the hell. I would guess you’ve heard of Operation Lam Son 719?”

Castillo nodded.

“I was shot down-and wounded-during it,” Radio and TV Stations went on. “My co-pilot and I were hiding in a rice paddy, wondering if we were going to die right there-or after the VC found us and put us in a bamboo cage-when a pretty well shot-up Huey flew through some really nasty antiaircraft fire and landed next to us. The pilot and his co-pilot jumped out, threw us onto the Huey, and got us out of there.

“I later learned the pilot was a young Mexican-American from San Antonio who had flown fifty-odd such missions before his luck ran out. He became a posthumous recipient of the Medal of Honor.”

“He wasn’t a Mexican-American,” Castillo said. “He was a Texican, a Texan of Mexican heritage.”

“You knew this man, Karl?” Berezovsky asked.

“Unfortunately, no,” Castillo said.