W Griffin - Hunters

"Mr. Ambassador, I-" Alvarez began.

"Good morning, gentlemen," McGrory said, cutting him off again. "This visit is terminated."

Alvarez stood up, looking as if he was going to say something else but changing his mind.

"Good morning, Mr. Ambassador," he said, finally, and walked out of the office with Ordonez on his heels.

Howell thought: Well, that wasn't too smart, McGrory. But, on the other hand, I think both Alvarez and Ordonez walked out of here believing that you know nothing about what happened at Tacuarembo. The best actor in the world couldn't turn on a fit like you just threw.

That doesn't mean, however, that Ordonez thinks I'm as pure as the driven snow.

"I regret that, of course, Howell," McGrory said. "But there are times when making your position perfectly clear without the subtleties and innuendos of diplomacy is necessary. And this was one of those times."

"Yes, sir," Howell said.

"If this has to be said, I don't want what just happened to leave this room."

"I understand, sir."

"What is your relationship with Mr. Darby?" McGrory asked.

"Sir?"

"Are you close? Friends? If you asked him, would he tell you if he knew anything about anything that went on at that estancia?"

"We're acquaintances, sir, not friends."

"But you both work for the CIA. Don't you exchange information?"

"As a courtesy, sir, I usually send him a copy of my reports to the agency-after you have vetted them, sir. And he does the same for me."

"Nevertheless, I think you should ask him about this. I'm going to catch the next plane to Buenos Aires to confer with Ambassador Silvio. I want you to go with me."

"Yes, sir, of course."

"I don't want to go to Washington with this until I hear what Ambassador Silvio has to say."

"Yes, sir."

Why do I think that you're having second thoughts about throwing Alvarez out of your office? [FOUR] Office of the Director The Central Intelligence Agency Langley, Virginia 1205 5 August 2005 John Powell, the DCI, a trim fifty-five-year-old who had given up trying to conceal his receding hairline and now wore what was left of his hair closely cropped to his skull, rose from behind his desk and walked across his office with his hand extended to greet his visitor.

"It's good to see you, Truman," he said as they shook hands. "We haven't been seeing much of each other lately."

"The ambassador keeps me pretty busy," Truman Ellsworth replied. He was also in his midfifties but with thirty pounds and six inches on Powell. He also had a full head of carefully coiffured silver hair. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

Powell gestured to indicate thanks were not necessary.

"And your coming gave me a much nicer alternative to eating alone or with five people with an agenda, not food, in mind. I ordered grilled trout avec beurre noir. How does that sound?"

"It sounds wonderful," Ellsworth said and obeyed the DCI's gesture to precede him into the DCI's private dining room.

The table, with room for eight, had been set for two, across from one another, at the head of table.

A waiter in a stiffly starched jacket asked what they would like to drink.

"Unsweetened iced tea, please," Ellsworth said.

"The same," the DCI ordered. "So what can I do for you, Truman? Or the ambassador?" the DCI asked when the trout had been served and the waiter had left the room.

"The president has taken a personal interest in the Argentine affair," Truman said.

"There's a rumor that there has even been a Presidential Finding," the DCI said.

"One wonders how such rumors get started," Ellsworth said. "And, consequently, the ambassador has taken a very personal interest in that unfortunate business."

"You don't want to tell me about the Finding?" the DCI asked.

"If there is a Finding, John, I really don't think you would want to know the details."

The DCI pursed his lips thoughtfully but didn't respond.

"And as the ball bounces down from the pinnacle, I now have a personal interest in the Masterson affair," Ellsworth said.

"Well, that's certainly understandable," the DCI said.

"I don't suppose there have been any developments in the last couple of hours?"

"No. And since I have made it known that I also have a personal interest in this matter, I'm sure I would have heard," the DCI said.

"Yes, I'm sure you would have," Ellsworth said. "That's one of the reasons I'm here. Should there be any developments-and I'm sure there will be-the ambassador would like to hear of them immediately after you do. I mean immediately, not through the normal channels."

"Consider it done, Truman."

"If the ambassador is not available, have the information passed to me."

The DCI nodded.

"Does the name Castillo ring a bell, John?"

"Major C. G. Castillo?"

Ellsworth nodded.

"Oh yes indeed," the DCI said. "The chap who stumbled upon the missing 727. Odd that you should mention his name. That rumor I heard about a Finding said that he was somehow involved in the Masterson business."

"Well, if there were a Finding, I wouldn't be surprised. The ambassador was at the White House last night where Castillo was promoted to lieutenant colonel by the President himself. Not to be repeated, entre nous, the ambassador told me that if the President were the pope he would have beatified Colonel Castillo at the ceremony."

"How interesting!" the DCI said. "I wonder why that brings to mind Lieutenant Colonel Oliver North?"

"Possibly because they are both good-looking, dashing young officers who somehow came to bask in the approval of their commander in chief," Ellsworth said.

"That's probably it."

"The ambassador is personally interested in Colonel Castillo," Ellsworth said. "I have the feeling he likes him and would like to help him in any way he can."

"Is that so?"

"Now, to help him-which would also mean keeping him from getting into the same kind of awkward situation in which North found himself-the more the ambassador knows about where the colonel is and what he's up to, the better. Even rumors would be helpful."

"I understand."

"The problem, John, is that both Colonel Castillo and the President might misinterpret the ambassador's interest. It would be best if neither knew of the ambassador's-oh, what should I say?-paternal interest in Colonel Castillo and his activities."

"Well, I certainly understand it. And I hear things from time to time. If I hear anything, I'll certainly pass it on to you. And I'll spread the word, discreetly of course, of my interest."

"Not in writing, John. Either up or down."

"Of course not. Have you any idea where Colonel Castillo might be?"

"The last I heard, he was on his way to Paris. And he's liable to go anywhere from there. Germany. Hungary. The Southern Cone of South America."

"He does get around, doesn't he?"

"Yes, he does."

"Well, as I said, I'll keep my ear to the rumor mill and keep you posted."

"Thank you. I know the ambassador will be grateful."

"Happy to be of whatever assistance I can. Is that about it?"

"There's one more thing, John. For some reason, the ambassador thinks your senior analyst in the South American Division's Southern Cone Section may not be quite the right person for the job."

"Oh really? Well, I'm sorry to hear that. And you can tell the ambassador I'll have a personal look at the situation immediately."

"Her name is Wilson. Mr. Patricia Davies Wilson," Ellsworth said.

"You know, now that I hear that name, I seem to recall that it came up not so long ago in connection with Castillo's."

"Really?"

"I seem to recall something like that."

"I think the ambassador would be pleased to have your assurance that you're going to put someone quite top-notch in that job and do so in such `a manner that, when she is replaced, Mr. Wilson will have no reason to suspect the ambassador-or even the DCI-was in any way involved with her reassignment."