“What the hell are these black boxes all over this?” President Clendennen then demanded.
“Mr. President,” Secretary Cohen explained, “those are redacting marks showing what has been redacted.”
“I’ll be damned. And you didn’t know that, Hoboken?”
“I will from now on, Mr. President,” Hoboken said firmly.
The President resumed reading:
THE ONLY RESTRICTION ON THIS REPORTER’S REPORTING, THE PRESIDENT TOLD ME, WAS THAT MY STORIES WOULD HAVE TO UNDERGO VETTING BY INTELLIGENCE OFFICERS SO AS TO ENSURE OUR ENEMIES LEARNED NOTHING OF VALUE FROM THEM, AND THAT I WOULD PUBLISH NOTHING UNTIL OPERATION OUT OF THE BOX WAS CONCLUDED.
ON THIS REPORTER’S ARRIVAL IN BUENOS AIRES, I WAS INFORMED THAT THE U.S. EMBASSY HAD NO IDEA OF COLONEL ██████ LOCATION. THIS REPORTER PERSEVERED, HOWEVER, AND LEARNED THAT THE LEGENDARY INTELLIGENCE OFFICER WAS IN BARILOCHE — A SKI RESORT SOMETIMES CALLED “THE VAIL OF ARGENTINA” — AND GOT HIM ON THE TELEPHONE.
COLONEL ██████ WAS NOT AT ALL PLEASED TO LEARN OF MY MISSION, BUT HE IS A SOLDIER, AND JOSHUA EZEKIEL CLENDENNEN IS THE COMMANDER IN CHIEF, AND COLONEL ██████ HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO OBEY HIS ORDERS.
“Goddamn right he didn’t,” the President said.
“Sir?” Truman Ellsworth asked.
“If that black redact-whatyoucallit stands for Castillo, as I strongly suspect it does, goddamn right he had no choice but to obey his orders. That’s what I told you when you showed a certain lack of enthusiasm for Operation Out of the Box.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. President,” Ellsworth said.
The President resumed reading:
AND I GOT MINE. I AM TO BE STANDING, WITH MY LUGGAGE, OUTSIDE MY HOTEL AT NINE TOMORROW MORNING. I ASKED WHERE WE WERE GOING AND WAS TOLD VATICAN CITY, BUT I DON’T BELIEVE THIS.
WE SHALL SEE.
DAY TWO—JUNE 12, 2007
BUENOS AIRES, ARGENTINA
AT EXACTLY NINE A.M., A MERCEDES SPORT-UTILITY VEHICLE WITH DARKENED WINDOWS PULLED INTO THE RECEPTION AREA OF THE ALVEAR PALACE HOTEL. TWO BURLY MEN GOT OUT. ONE TOOK MY ARM AND LOADED ME INTO THE REAR SEAT WHILE THE OTHER LOADED MY LUGGAGE INTO THE BACK.
HOW THEY KNEW WHO THIS REPORTER WAS, I DON’T KNOW, AND WHEN I ASKED WHERE WE WERE GOING, THEY PRETENDED NOT TO HEAR. I DID NOTICE THAT BOTH MEN WERE ARMED WITH UZI SUBMACHINE GUNS.
AFTER A FIFTEEN-MINUTE DRIVE THROUGH THE HEAVY EARLY MORNING BUENOS AIRES TRAFFIC, WE ARRIVED AT THE “BUSINESS SIDE” OF JORGE NEWBERY AIRFIELD, WHICH ABUTS THE RIVER PLATE.
THIS REPORTER WAS DRIVEN TO THE SIDE OF A GULFSTREAM V AIRCRAFT.
LIEUTENANT COLONEL ██████, A TALL, GOOD-LOOKING MAN IN HIS LATE THIRTIES OR EARLY FORTIES, CAME DOWN THE STAIR-DOOR STEPS AND GAVE ME HIS HAND.
“HELLO, ROSCOE,” HE SAID. “PLEASE GET ABOARD.”
THIS REPORTER HAD MET COLONEL ██████ BEFORE, WHEN HE HAD FLOWN INTO ██████ AIR FORCE BASE AT THE CONTROLS OF A ██████ AIRCRAFT. THE STORY GOING AROUND AND EMPHATICALLY DENIED BY THE CIA WAS THAT ██████ HAD STOLEN THE SECRET RUSSIAN AIRPLANE IN ██████ AND THAT THE CIA HAD PAID HIM ONE HUNDRED MILLION DOLLARS FOR IT WHEN HE DELIVERED IT TO THEM.
“What the hell is going on here?” the President said. “If that black box stands for Castillo, what the hell is this? ‘He had flown into Castillo Air Force Base at the controls of a Castillo aircraft he had stolen in Castillo’? Tell me that makes sense!”
“Those redacting remarks, Mr. President,” Secretary Cohen explained, “replace other words that have been obscured. A redacted block has no meaning in and of itself.”
“I think I’m getting it. Bear with me,” the President said, and resumed reading:
THE ENGINES OF THE GULFSTREAM V STARTED AS THE DOOR WAS CLOSING, AND TEN MINUTES LATER WE HAD TAKEN OFF.
AS SOON AS WE REACHED CRUISING ALTITUDE, ██████ INTRODUCED ME TO THE OTHERS ON BOARD, STARTING WITH HIS FIANCÉE ██████ ██████, A REDHEADED BEAUTY ALLEGED — SHE REFUSES TO CONFIRM OR DENY — TO HAVE EXTENSIVE INTELLIGENCE EXPERIENCE.
“I think I’m getting this,” the President announced. “He crossed out the name of his girlfriend, the Russian spy, right?”
“‘Redacted’ it, sir,” Robin Hoboken said.
“Why the hell can’t we just say ‘crossed out’?”
“If that is your pleasure, sir, we certainly will,” Robin Hoboken said.
The President resumed reading, this time finishing the report before saying anything else.
ALSO ABOARD THE AIRCRAFT WERE LIEUTENANT COLONEL ██████, JR., WHOM THIS REPORTER KNEW TO BE THE SON OF GENERAL ██████ ██████, SR., WHOM THIS REPORTER HAS DESCRIBED AS THE “MOST IMPORTANT ██████ IN THE U.S. ARMY”; ██████ ██████, A LEGENDARY SPECIAL OPERATOR RUMORED TO HEAD THE TOP SECRET DELTA FORCE UNIT IN FORT BRAGG, N.C.; FORMER MARINE GUNNERY SERGEANT ██████ ██████, A SNIPER WHO DOUBLES AS ██████ BODYGUARD; CWO(5) ██████ ██████ AND COMMAND SERGEANT MAJOR ██████ ██████, BOTH RETIRED MEMBERS OF DELTA FORCE; FIRST LIEUTENANT ██████ ██████, KNOWN AS “██████” MAKING REFERENCE TO ███ ███ WHILE A GREEN BERET; ██████ ██████, FORMERLY OF THE SECRET SERVICE, AND HIS WIFE, DR. ██████ ██████, A PHILOLOGIST.
██████, ██████ AND THE ██████ ARE AFRO-AMERICAN AND ██████ EXPLAINED THEY WILL FUNCTION PRIMARILY IN SOMALIA, WHERE IT WOULD BE DIFFICULT FOR HIM AND THE OTHERS TO “BLEND INTO THE WOODWORK.”
THE GULFSTREAM AIRCRAFT, CHARTERED WITH ITS CREW FROM PANAMANIAN EXECUTIVE AIRCRAFT IN PANAMA, WAS FLOWN BY COLONEL ██████ ██████, USAF, RETIRED, AND MAJOR ██████ ██████ JR., RETIRED. ██████ HAD BEEN WITH ██████ IN THE SEIZURE OF THE ██████ AIRCRAFT, AND ██████ HAD SERVED WITH THE 160TH SPECIAL OPERATIONS AVIATION REGIMENT, INCLUDING SERVICE IN SOMALIA. ██████ IS AN AFRO-AMERICAN.
THIS WAS THE TEAM ██████ HAD ASSEMBLED AT THE ORDERS OF PRESIDENT CLENDENNEN TO “PUT A FRESH AND KNOWLEDGEABLE EYE” ON THE MEXICAN DRUG CARTELS AND THE PIRATES OF SOMALIA.
██████ TOLD THIS REPORTER WE WERE HEADED FOR MEXICO, AND WOULD THEN GO TO BUDAPEST, HUNGARY.
EIGHT HOURS AFTER TAKING OFF, WE LANDED IN COZUMEL, MEXICO, WHERE TWO GMC YUKONS WERE WAITING TO TRANSPORT US TO THE FIVE-STAR ██████ ██████ BEACH & GOLF RESORT, WHERE WE WERE INSTALLED IN THE 24TH FLOOR IMPERIAL PENTHOUSE SUITE.
AFTER A GRILLED SEAFOOD DINNER, ██████, USING A SHORTWAVE RADIO OF A TYPE THIS REPORTER HAD NEVER SEEN, CONTACTED ██████ ██████ ██████ ████, OF THE POLICIA FEDERAL, WHOM HE DESCRIBED AS THE “ONLY HONEST COP IN MEXICO.” FOLLOWING A BRIEF CONVERSATION, ██████ SAID THAT ████ WOULD COME TO THE HOTEL FIRST THING TOMORROW MORNING.
DAY THREE—JUNE 13, 2007
COZUMEL, MEXICO
AT EXACTLY TEN A.M. THIS MORNING, A BLACK HAWK HELICOPTER BEARING THE IDENTIFICATION MARKINGS OF THE MEXICAN POLICIA FEDERAL FLUTTERED TO THE LANDING PAD ON THE ROOF OF THE ██████ ██████ BEACH & GOLF RESORT.
IN IT, ACCOMPANIED BY HEAVILY ARMED FEDERAL POLICEMEN, WAS ██████ ███ ████ ███.
COLONEL ██████, ███ AND ██████ ████, ████ ██████, ██████ ██████ AND THIS REPORTER CLIMBED ABOARD AND THE BLACK HAWK TOOK OFF.
OUR DESTINATION TURNED OUT TO BE A SECRET AIRFIELD KNOWN SARDONICALLY TO ██████’S MERRY OUTLAWS AS “DRUG CARTEL INTERNATIONAL.” IT IS LOCATED IN THE ██ █████�
� █ ████ IN COAHUILA STATE.
(SEE PHOTOGRAPHS)
██████ TOLD THIS REPORTER THE AIRFIELD WAS USED TO TAKE SUITCASES FULL OF DRUG PROFIT MONEY OUT OF MEXICO AND TO BRING IN COCAINE FROM COLOMBIA, VENEZUELA, AND OTHER PLACES FOR TRANS-SHIPMENT OVER THE BORDER INTO THE UNITED STATES.
WHEN THIS REPORTER ASKED HOW THE AIRCRAFT INVOLVED COULD AVOID BEING DETECTED ON RADAR BY MEXICAN AUTHORITIES, ██████ ███ ████ ████ REPLIED THAT RADAR OPERATORS WERE GIVEN THE CHOICE OF NOT DETECTING THE ILLEGAL FLIGHTS, WHEREUPON THEY WOULD RECEIVE A STACK OF U.S. CURRENCY, OR DETECTING THEM AND REPORTING THEM TO THE POLICIA FEDERAL, WHEREUPON THEIR MOTHERS, WIVES, AND DAUGHTERS WOULD BE RAPED AND/OR MURDERED.
██████ TOLD THIS REPORTER THAT IF SOME WAY COULD BE FOUND TO SHUT DOWN “DRUG CARTEL INTERNATIONAL,” IT WOULD PUT A “SERIOUS CRIMP” IN DRUG CARTEL ACTIVITIES AND THAT HE WAS WORKING WITH ███ ON A PLAN TO DO SO, WHICH HE WOULD FORWARD TO THE PRESIDENT.
AFTER NO MORE THAN AN HOUR AT THE AIRFIELD, WE REBOARDED THE BLACK HAWK HELICOPTER AND FLEW BACK TO COZUMEL AND BOARDED THE GULFSTREAM, LEAVING BEHIND ███ AND ██████ █████, AND TOOK OFF FOR BUDAPEST. THE █████ WILL UNDERTAKE MISSIONS FOR ██████ THAT HE WAS UNWILLING TO SHARE WITH THIS REPORTER.
MORE TO FOLLOW
“Okay, I got it. Castillo redacted all those things so in case this fell into the wrong hands, nobody would know who Roscoe J. Danton was talking about. Am I right?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. President,” Truman Ellsworth said. “That is correct.”
“Couple of questions,” the President said. “General Naylor, Danton said you were the most important what in the Army?”
“I believe, Mr. President,” Secretary Cohen said, “that Mr. Danton believes General Naylor is the most important general in the Army.”
“Where did he get a nutty idea like that? Everybody knows the chief of staff is the most important general in the Army.”
“I don’t know where he got a nutty idea like that, Mr. President,” Robin Hoboken said, “but I’ll get on it right away and let you know as soon as I find out.”
“Lammelle, I want you to get together with Ellsworth and come up with a plan to shut down this drug dealers’ airfield. I don’t want to do anything until I hear more from Castillo, but I want to be ready.”
“Yes, sir,” Lammelle said.
“This out-of-the-box idea of mine is working out better than I thought. I wonder why I didn’t think of it earlier.”
“Well, you had a lot on your mind, Mr. President,” Robin Hoboken said. “That probably had something to do with it.”
VII
[ONE]
The Portico
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, N.W.
Washington, D.C.
0935 14 June 2007
“Well,” Truman Ellsworth said to Natalie Cohen as they and General Naylor and DCI Lammelle waited for their various vehicles to pull up, “on balance, I’d say that went well.”
“I’m not so sure,” she replied.
“And what do you think, General?” Ellsworth inquired of Naylor.
“I am very uncomfortable with the entire situation,” Naylor replied. “I suspect that what Mr. Ellsworth means—”
“You can call me Truman,” Ellsworth interrupted. “We are all in this together. Succeeding together, I would suggest.”
“Forgive me, Mr. Ellsworth,” Naylor said, “for not sharing your pleasure in our successfully deceiving the President.”
“What would you have us do?” Lammelle asked. “Go to the Vice President and the Cabinet and ask them to bring on the men in the white coats and the straitjacket?”
“This is going to end badly,” General Naylor said.
“Possibly,” Lammelle said. “Everybody knows that. But the operative word is ‘possibly.’ It is also possible that we’ll get away with it.”
“Possible, but unlikely,” Secretary Cohen said. “He told you and Truman to come up with a plan to shut down that Mexican airfield. What are you going to do about that?”
“Take a long time coming up with a plan,” Lammelle said. “Hoping that he’ll forget he told me that.”
“And if he doesn’t forget?” General Naylor asked.
“Then I will stall him, using Castillo, for as long as I can.”
“And what if that doesn’t work?” Naylor asked. “What if he says, ‘Shut down that Mexican airfield now’?”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, General,” Truman Ellsworth said, “but wasn’t General Patton quoted as saying… something along this line—‘Don’t take counsel of your fears’?”
“That’s your recommended course of action?” Naylor demanded tartly. “‘Don’t worry about it!’”
Just as tartly, Ellsworth replied, “General, our course of action, repeat, our course of action, mutually agreed between the four of us, is to indulge the President as long as we can do that without putting the country at serious risk. I don’t see any greater risk to the country coming out of that meeting than I did going in. If you do, please share what you saw with us.”
“The President told you and Lammelle to prepare a plan to shut down that airfield,” Naylor said.
“And I just told you, General,” Lammelle said, “that we will do so very, very slowly. If he persists in this notion to the point where I think it’s necessary—let me rephrase, to the point where the four of us, repeat, the four of us, think it’s necessary—we will have Natalie explain to him that shutting down that airfield would be an act of war. If he still insists, then, presuming we four are then in agreement, the four of us will go to the Cabinet and tell them he’s out of control. Do you agree with that, or not?”
Naylor did not reply directly. Instead, he said, “I don’t think any of us should forget that the President, under the War Powers Act, has the authority to order troops into action for thirty days wherever and whenever he thinks that’s necessary. During those thirty days, if he tells me to shut down that airfield, I’ll have to shut down that airfield.”
“I think, General, that each of us is aware of the War Powers Act,” Secretary Cohen said. “We’ll have to deal with that if it comes up.”
“Relax, Allan,” Lammelle said. “Three will get you five that the Sage of Biloxi has already forgotten that notion and is now devoting all of his attention to getting the First Mother-in-Law out of jail.”
Ellsworth chuckled. Secretary Cohen smiled.
“And there’s one more thing, General,” Ellsworth said. “Have you noticed that Hackensack—”
“I think you mean Hoboken, Truman,” the secretary of State corrected him gently.
“Right. Hoboken. Have you noticed what a splendid job Hoboken does with what are known, I believe, as ‘Presidential Photo-Ops’?”
Cohen, Lammelle, and Naylor all shrugged, suggesting, in the cases of Cohen and Naylor, that they were not aware of the splendid job Presidential Spokesperson Hoboken was doing with Presidential Photo-Ops. Lammelle’s shrug asked, so to speak, “So what?”
“Every time a dozen Rotarians,” Ellsworth clarified, “or for that matter eight Boy Scouts, come to Washington, they can count on getting their picture taken with the President.”
“And Special Agent Mulligan,” the secretary of State said. “He’s usually in the picture.”
“At the risk of repeating my shrug,” Lammelle said, “so what?”
“When they are recording themselves for posterity, Frank,” Ellsworth explained, “they won’t have time to worry about seizing a Mexican airfield. It’s a matter of priority. Getting your picture in the paper with the Rotarians or the Boy Scouts helps your reelection chances. Thanks to Mulligan and Hoboken, I don’t think we really have to worry about get
ting ordered to seize the Mexican airfield.”
“You may have something there, Truman,” Lammelle said.
The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of their vehicles. Following the protocol of rank, Secretary Cohen’s Yukon arrived first. Charlene Stevens jumped out and opened the right rear door for her, and Cohen got in without saying anything else and drove off. Then Ellsworth’s Jaguar Vanden Plas pulled up and he got in it, and it drove off. Lammelle’s Yukon was next, and he got in and drove off. Finally General Naylor’s Suburban pulled up, a sergeant jumped out of the front seat and removed the covers from the four-star plates, and then held the right rear door open for the general.
[TWO]
The Cabinet Room
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, N.W.
Washington, D.C.
0935 14 June 2007
“Mr. President,” Presidential Spokesperson Robin Hoboken had asked the moment the door closed on Secretary Cohen and the others, “did you mean what you said about wanting to shut down that Mexican airfield, the one Castillo calls ‘Drug Cartel International’?”
“By now, Robin, you should know that—unlike some other politicians I can name—I always mean what I say.”
“Mr. President, I have an idea—”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Hackensack,” Supervisory Secret Service Agent Mulligan said, “not again! Every time you have one of your ideas, you get the Commander in Chief in trouble.”
“What did you say?” the presidential spokesman demanded angrily.
“I said, Hoboken, that every time you get one of your ideas, you get the President in trouble.”
“No, you didn’t. You called me Hackensack and you know you did.”
“You’ll have to admit, Hackensack, that Mulligan is right,” the President said. “Sometimes your ideas, while well intentioned, are really off the wall.”
“Now you’ve got the Commander in Chief doing it!” Robin fumed.
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