"I have to agree, Bill."

"So if it wasn't for Che fucking Guevara, Withers would be alive, right?"

Lunsford nodded.

"And so would those two savages I popped this morning, and all those poor fucking savages Coizi's shooters got, right?"

"Right."

"And now Che fucking Guevara is about to come across Lake Tanganyika in fucking person, right?"

"That's the intel, Bill."

"And if I pop the bastard-the only sonofabitch who really deserves to be popped-my ass is in a crack, right?"

"Very seriously in a crack, Bill," Lunsford said. "Don't even think about it."

"That's what I thought you would say," Thomas said.

He picked up the bottle of Martel and held it out to Lunsford. "You want a little taste, Father?"

"Thank you," Lunsford said, and took a pull from the bottle's neck.

"I'm trusting you on this one, Father," Thomas said. "I really would like to pop Che fucking Guevara."

"Not popping him is going to cause him, and people like him, more trouble than popping him," Lunsford said.

"So I keep hearing."

"You going to be all right, Bill?"

"Yeah. I'll just have a couple more tastes and hang it up for the day."

"You're sure?"

"I'm already shitfaced. I don't want Craig's wife to see me this way."

"You're probably right."

"Tough broad, that one," Thomas said. "Coming here to be with her man. You have to admire that. I'd like to find one like that."

"Me, too," Lunsford said, and was genuinely shocked when an image of Cecilia The Real Dar es Salaam Station Chief flashed through his mind.

God, that's strange. I don't even know her last name. What triggered that? When Doubting Thomas called Geoff's wife a "tough broad"? And that isn't the first time I've thought of her, either.

What did she say? Maybe sometime, when you're wearing shoes, we could talk about dinner again. Maybe sometime, when you're wearing shoes, we could talk about dinner again.

"You know she got out of East Berlin by crashing through the wall in a truck?" Thomas asked admiringly. "Tough broad."

"I heard," Lunsford said. "You sure you're going to be all right, Bill? You want me to hang around?"

"With all respect, Major, sir, get the fuck out of here."

[ THREE ].

Room 637, The Executive Office Building Washington, D.C.

0930 21 April 1965 Mary Margaret Dunne knocked politely at the door of Colonel Sanford T. Felter, and when he motioned her to enter, handed him a sheet of paper.

"Just delivered, Colonel," she said.

He took it and read it.

SECRETCentral Intelligence Agency Langley, VirginiaFROM: Assistant Director For Administration Assistant Director For AdministrationFROM: 21 April 1965 1345 GMT 21 April 1965 1345 GMTSUBJECT: Guevara, Ernesto (Memorandum #75.) Guevara, Ernesto (Memorandum #75.) TO: Mr. Sanford T. Felter Mr. Sanford T. Felter Counselor To The President Room 637, The Executive Office Building Washington, D.C.By Officer CourierIn compliance with Presidential Memorandum to The Director, Subject: "Ernesto 'Che' Guevara," dated 14 December 1964, the following information is being furnished: .From CIA Dar es Salaam, Tanganyika (Reliability Scale Five):1. In response to an inquiry by US Ambassador,Tanganyikan Minister of Foreign Affairs denied any knowledge of Cubans anywhere in Tanganyika.2. Accompanied by a senior Tanganyikan police official, sixteen Cubans, including Guevara and Dreke, left the Morogoro farm on two trucks 2130 Greenwich 20 April 1965.3. They are bound for Kigoma in the Western Province. They are in civilian clothing and armed with Belgian 7-mm automatic rifles and Israeli Uzi 9-mm machine pistols, but have no heavier arms, hand grenades, explosives, or other war materiel.4. They will travel by a circuitous route, off major highways and possibly only at night. Estimated time of arrival in Kigoma before midnight 23 April 1965.

Howard W. O'Connor HOWARD W. O'CONNORSECRET "What I think we have here, Mary Margaret," Felter said, "is the exception to the rule. The CIA station chief in Dar es Salaam seems to have all his ducks in a row."

She chuckled.

"Extract the pertinent points and satellite it to Lunsford."

"Right away. Would you like some coffee?"

"Is there any chocolate milk?"

"Coming right up."

[ FOUR ].

The Hotel du Lac Costermansville, Kivu Province Republic of the Congo 2215 22 April 1965 Specialist Five Charles K. Anderson, who was drawing extra proficiency pay for being both an Army Security Agency high-speed intercept operator and an ASA ultrahigh-frequency radio communications technician, and who was wearing the uniform of a lieutenant of Congolese paratroops, did not look much like the popular image of a paratroop officer, Congolese or any other kind.

He was five feet five inches tall, two months past his nineteenth birthday, and weighed 165 pounds. Among his peers he was known variously as "Tubby," "Fatso," and "Lumpy," and was privately thought of by Major George Washington Lunsford as "the fat kid from East Saint Louis."

Lunsford had been genuinely concerned-for the purposes of Operation Earnest, he really needed the fat kid's technical skills, and for the fat kid himself-when Anderson had shown up, displaying a wide array of white teeth for the irregular course in parachute jumping conducted at Camp Mackall.

Lunsford was absolutely convinced that Anderson could never have made it through the first week-much less the whole parachute course-at Fort Benning, but he had made it through the one at Camp Mackall.

And now he took great pride in being a paratrooper. He had confessed to Doubting Thomas that he could hardly wait to get back to East Saint Louis wearing his wings and Corcoran jump boots.

Anderson found Major Lunsford/Lieutenant Colonel Dahdi sitting at a table with Master Sergeant Thomas/Major Tomas, and the two white officer pilots and their wives on the hotel patio overlooking the lake. Lunsford and Thomas and the wives were drinking beer. The two pilots were drinking lemonade.

Anderson marched up to Lunsford, came to attention, saluted crisply, and announced: "Just off the satellite, sir."

Lunsford-who was not particularly fond of saluting-returned the salute with parade-ground precision.

"Stand at ease," Lunsford ordered, and reached for the sheet of paper. He read it, then handed it to Geoff Craig.

OPERATIONAL IMMEDIATE.

TOP SECRET.

EARS 0007 2140 ZULU 22 APRIL 1965.

VIA WHITE HOUSE SIGNAL AGENCY.

FROM: EARS SIX.

TO: HELPER SIX1-FOLLOWING RECEIVED LANDLINE 2105 ZULU 22 APRIL 1965 QUOTED VERBATIMBEGIN QUOTE.

TRANSMIT OPERATIONAL IMMEDIATE FOR BAREFOOT.

BOY FROM KATHARINE HEPBURN START IF YOU HAD.

SHOES WE COULD TAKE A MIDNIGHT DINNER.

CRUISE TONIGHT WITH DESI ARNAZ AND HIS.

FRIENDS. BEST WISHES ENDEND QUOTEEARS SIXTOP SECRET.

"Anderson," Lunsford ordered. "Search out Colonel Supo, present my compliments, and ask the colonel if he would be good enough to join me."

Anderson popped back to attention, said "yes, sir," saluted, waited for Lunsford to return it, did what he thought was a perfect about-face movement, and marched off the patio.

"Thomas," Lunsford said. "You know what's faster than a corporal going to his first noncom's call?"

"I'll bet you're going to tell me," Thomas said.

"A brand-new paratrooper looking for somebody to show how tough he is," Lunsford said.

"That's not nice, Father," Marjorie Bellmon said. "He's a nice kid."

"I know," Lunsford said. "That's why I don't want him trying to stomp somebody; he'd lose. Have a word with him, Sergeant Thomas."

Thomas chuckled.

"He went to Coizi," Thomas said. "Asked him, the next time the Congolese jump, could he jump with them."

"No goddamn way! I don't want him breaking a leg, or worse. You have a word with him."

"I already did."

"Then have another one," Lunsford said. "You have the map in your pocket?"

Thomas dug for it.

"Can I see that?" Marjorie asked her husband, to whom Geoff Craig had passed the message.

"Ask the boss," Jack said.

"Why not?" Lunsford said.

Jack passed it to Marjorie, who read it and passed it to Ursula.

"What's this Barefoot Boy/Katharine Hepburn business?" Marjorie asked. "What's it all about?"

"It was love at first sight," Jack said. "You could hear the violins playing, and our beloved commander was drooling all over the consulate floor." He chuckled, and added, "All over his bare feet."

"Goddamn you!" Lunsford said, but more in surprise-Gee, did I act that way?-than in anger.

"Who is she?"

"Ostensibly, the CIA station chief's secretary in Dar es Salaam," Jack said.

"And actually?" Marjorie asked.

"The CIA station chief," Jack said.

"Well, so much for keeping that little secret," Father said. "I hate to stop this delightful chitchat, but . . . I read that to mean Guevara and the others are taking boats at midnight from Kigoma. Am I right?"

"It looks to me as if she has somebody in Kigoma," Jack said. "Maybe she even went there. It said 'landline.' "

"Thomas?"

"That's how I read it," Thomas replied.

"Geoff?"

"Yeah. That's how I would read it."

"We're all set up at the field and the outposts?"

"The bad news there is that there's sometimes morning fog," Jack said. "Which maybe Guevara knows about, and is counting on to keep him invisible."

" 'Take not counsel of your fears,' " Lunsford quoted. "General George S. Patton. The question was 'we're all set up at the field and the outposts?' "

"Aunt Jemima is at Item," Craig said. "You want me to run this by you again, right?"

Lunsford nodded.