"I'm all for it. How?"

"What I thought, off the top of my head, is a conference in either Leopoldville or Dar es Salaam. I'll send someone senior-I'm thinking of Howard O'Connor-with orders to tell everybody to stop the bickering. If you were to send someone . . ."

"Leopoldville," Felter said. "I can't go myself. I can send Lieutenant Colonel Lowell. I will, if you also tell O'Connor he and Lowell will be there as equals."

"When?"

"How long will it take O'Connor to pack his bags?"

"You think I should propose to the Secretary of State that he send someone too?"

"I think that would unnecessarily complicate a good, simple idea."

Fifteen minutes later, the vice admiral walked up to Felter and the Director.

"Mr. Director, we ran a downlinked satellite photograph of the vessel in question through the naval computer. It has been identified, with a ninety-seven percent positivity, as the Cuban merchant vessel Uvera. Uvera. I have details-" I have details-"

"That won't be necessary, Admiral," the Director said. "All Colonel Felter and I wanted was to make sure, (a) that it was the Uvera Uvera and, (b) that they not be aware we know where they are, and are going." and, (b) that they not be aware we know where they are, and are going."

"Yes, sir."

"Admiral," Felter said, "would it be possible to send one of the flanking destroyers of the naval force close enough to the Uvera Uvera so that it would be seen? Taking no action, of course. I think if they saw a destroyer that did not inspect them, they might change course, in the belief they had escaped detection." so that it would be seen? Taking no action, of course. I think if they saw a destroyer that did not inspect them, they might change course, in the belief they had escaped detection."

"Good idea, Felter," the Director said.

"I'll have the necessary orders issued, sir," the vice admiral said.

[ THREE ].

SECRET.

EARN0059 WASH DC 1235 ZULU 4 MAY 1965.

VIA WHITE HOUSE SIGNAL AGENCY.

FROM: EARNEST SIX.

TO: HELPER SIX1. LTCOL CRAIG W. LOWELL REPRESENTING COL FELTER AND CWO (4) JAMES L. FINTON WILL DEPART WASHINGTON DC 1400 ZULU 6 MAY 1965 TWA FLIGHT 233 TO BRUSSELS AND DEPART BRUSSELS 0830 ZULU 7 MAY 1965 UFA 4545 TO LeOPOLDVILLE. A SENIOR CIA OFFICER REPRESENTING DIRECTOR CIA AND AN ASSISTANT WILL TRAVEL TO LeOPOLDVILLE APPROXIMATELY SAME DATES AND ROUTE BUT DIFFERENT AIRLINES NOT KNOWN TO UNDERSIGNED.2. A CONFERENCE BETWEEN THE ABOVE, PLUS CIA STATION CHIEFS LeOPOLDVILLE AND DAR ES SALAAM, PLUS ONE STAFF MEMBER OF EACH WILL BE SCHEDULED AS SOON AS POSSIBLE AFTER ALL PARTIES ARE IN LeOPOLDVILLE. CIA STATION CHIEF LeOPOLDVILLE WILL COORDINATE.3. INASMUCH AS CONFERENCE SHOULD BE AS INCONSPICUOUS AS POSSIBLE LOWELL AND FINTON WILL TRAVEL IN CIVILIAN STATUS, AND EARNEST SIX SUGGESTS IF POSSIBLE CONFERENCE BE HELD IN HOME OF CAPTAIN PORTET.4. YOU ARE DIRECTED TO MEET LOWELL AND FINTON ON ARRIVAL IN LeOPOLDVILLE NOT IN US UNIFORM REPEAT NOT IN US UNIFORM AND ARRANGE FOR THEIR QUARTERS AND TRANSPORTATION. YOU AND SUCH US OFFICERS AS YOU MAY DESIGNATE WILL PARTICIPATE IN CONFERENCE NOT IN US UNIFORM.FINTON FOR EARNEST SIXSECRET.

[ FOUR ].

404 Avenue Leopold Leopoldville, Republic of the Congo 1930 8 May 1965 There were three Congolese paratroopers in front of the gate in the fence that surrounded the Portet property. One of them, a lieutenant, stepped in front of the black 1964 Chevrolet with a Corps Diplomatique license plate and identification badge and held his hand out to make it stop. The other two moved so, should it be necessary, they could quickly train their FN 7-mm automatic rifles on the car.

"What the hell is this?" D. Patrick O'Hara, who was the Deputy to the Assistant Director of the CIA for Sub-Saharan Africa, said to Mr. Howard W. O'Connor, the CIA's Assistant Director for Administration. Both were in somewhat mussed tropical-weight gray suits.

"We don't have diplomatic status," O'Connor said, and then added, "I would like to know what the hell is going on with all of this."

The embassy chauffeur stopped and rolled down his window.

"This is a U.S. Embassy car," the driver said.

The Congolese paratrooper lieutenant did not seem very impressed.

"Papers, please," he said in French.

"Can they do that to an embassy car?" D. Patrick O'Hara asked.

"Just give him your goddamn passport," Howard W. O'Connor said.

The Congolese lieutenant examined the passports and handed them back.

"Invitation, please?" he asked.

O'Connor fumbled in the pocket of his suit and handed it over.

Captain and Madame Jacques Emile Portet Request The Honor of the Presence OfHON. HOWARD O'CONNOR AND GUESTAt cocktails and dinner to honor Lieutenant General Joseph Desire Mobutu 404 Avenue Leopold Leopoldville, Republic of the Congo At half past seven o'clock 1930 8 May 1965 The paratroop lieutenant examined the invitation, returned it, saluted, and motioned for the driver to proceed.

Three minutes later, an identical black Chevrolet, also bearing Corps Diplomatique insignia, rolled up. This one contained a black man and a black woman. The paratroop lieutenant held out his hand to stop the car, and the driver rolled down the window and protested that he was driving a U.S. Embassy car carrying two American diplomats.

A major of Congolese paratroops in crisply starched camouflage fatigues stepped out from behind one of the gateposts.

"The lady is known to me, Lieutenant," he said in Swahili. "The man I never saw before. Check him carefully."

"Yes, my major," the lieutenant said, and did so.

Two minutes later-which seemed longer-it was apparent to the lieutenant that the man's papers were in order. He reported this to the major.

"Let them pass, then," the major said.

The car began to move.

As it passed the gatepost, the black lady ordered, rather imperatively, the driver to stop. The Chevrolet jerked to a stop. The lady rolled the window down.

"Well, look who got himself a pair of shoes," she said, and then, before he could reply, ordered the driver to drive on.

There were three houseboys in immaculate, stiffly starched jackets, black trousers, and no shoes, inside the door of the Portet home.

"Good evening, sir," Nimbi said, in French, to Howard W. O'-Connor and his guest. "If you will be good enough to follow Ali, cocktails are being served by the pool."

Ali smiled at the two Americans and signaled to them that he would lead them to the pool.

O'Connor saw that a bar had been set up at the pool, that beyond the pool were two tennis courts, and beyond the tennis courts, the area was ringed by Congolese paratroops, one every fifteen yards, keeping the fence under surveillance.

A strikingly beautiful young woman greeted them as they reached the pool.

"You must be Mr. O'Connor," she said.

"Yes, I am, and this is Mr. O'Hara."

"I'm Marjorie Portet," she said. "Welcome to my home . . . actually, my father- and mother-in-law's home. And welcome to the Congo, too, I suppose."

"Thank you very much," O'Connor said. "We're delighted to be here. Is there a Mr. Lowell here?"

"There's a Colonel Colonel Lowell here," Marjorie said. "Actually, tonight is his idea. He's over there with General Mobutu and Colonel Supo." Lowell here," Marjorie said. "Actually, tonight is his idea. He's over there with General Mobutu and Colonel Supo."

She inclined her head to indicate the bar.

O'Connor saw a tall, handsome white man in a white dinner jacket, the lapel of which sagged under the weight of an impressive array of miniature medals. There was an enormous medal of some sort hanging around his neck from a purple sash.

With him were two other white men in dinner jackets, and two Congolese officers, one in what in the U.S. Army would be called a Class A uniform, and the other in starched camouflage fatigues. The latter O'Connor recognized from his photos as Lieutenant General Joseph Desire Mobutu, Minister for Defense and Chief of Staff of the Armee National Congolaise.

"Why don't you come with me?" Marjorie said. "Everybody's here but the people from Dar es Salaam, I think. I'll introduce you."

"Thank you very much," O'Connor said.

They started toward the group at the bar.

At the opposite end of the pool, there was another small group of people. Two white men in suits not unlike those of O'Connor and O'Hara, and two more in white dinner jackets were sitting at a table with a blond young woman. There was an infant on the table, being fed a banana by an enormous black woman.

The two men in the dark business suits got to their feet when they saw O'Connor and O'Hara, and intercepted them before they got to the bar.

"Good evening, sir," one of them said respectfully to O'Con-nor.

"Hello, Charley," O'Connor said to the CIA station chief, Leopoldville. He nodded at his deputy.

He desperately wanted to ask him what was going on, but with Madame Portet with them, that was obviously out of the question.

"We're about to meet General Mobutu," O'Connor said. "Have you met him?"

"Tonight," Charley said. "For the first time."

O'Connor resumed his walk toward Mobutu.

Craig Lowell smiled at O'Connor when he saw him coming.

A smile, O'Connor decided, O'Connor decided, that is less an offer of friendship than one of amusement, and amusement at the expense of Howard W. O'Connor. I came here to do business, not attend a pool party. that is less an offer of friendship than one of amusement, and amusement at the expense of Howard W. O'Connor. I came here to do business, not attend a pool party.

"And this, my general," Lowell said in French, and gesturing with his martini glass at O'Connor, "is the distinguished Howard W. O'Connor, Deputy Director of our Central Intelligence Agency."

"How do you do, General?" O'Connor said. "May I present my colleague Mr. O'Hara?"

Mobutu shook their hands and said, "And these are my friends Dr. Dannelly and Colonel Jean-Baptiste Supo," Mobutu said.

Everybody shook hands.

"And I think you know Mr. Finton, don't you?" Lowell asked.

"Good evening, sir," Finton said.

A houseboy appeared for their drink order.

O'Connor debated asking for something soft, but lost his resolve and ordered a gin and tonic. O'Hara followed his lead.

"I've been telling the general," Lowell said. "That you have taken the time from your very busy schedule to come here to coordinate our mutual efforts with regard to Senor Guevara and his friends."

"That's true," O'Connor said, and blurted, "And when are we going to have the time for that, Colonel?"

"I thought we'd do it over after-dinner coffee," Lowell said. "I met with Colonel Supo and Major Lunsford this afternoon, and went over their plans. All we have to do is fit the CIA and its assets into the plan. That shouldn't take long."

O'Connor searched for words to reply.

"As I told the General," Lowell went on, "Colonel Felter meant it when he said this is a cooperative effort and we are going to have no secrets from Colonel Supo or General Mobutu. You don't have any problems with that, do you, Mr. O'Connor?"

Goddamn! O'Connor thought. O'Connor thought. What the hell is wrong with the Director? He should have known Felter would sandbag him! What the hell is wrong with the Director? He should have known Felter would sandbag him!

"No, of course not," O'Connor said as sincerely as he could.

Lowell smiled at him, then looked over his shoulder.

"Well, everybody's here, I see," he said.

The secretary to the Consul General of the United States in Dar es Salaam and that luminary himself were being escorted across the lawn toward them.

"General," O'Connor said, "this is Mr. James Foster, the United States Consul General in Dar es Salaam, and his assistant, Miss Cecilia Taylor."

"How do you do?" Mobutu said, and there was another round of introductions, during which Lieutenant Colonel Dahdi-who had had to walk from the gate to the house-showed up.

"Actually, General," O'Connor announced, "Mr. Foster has duties beyond Consul General in Dar es Salaam."

"You are right, Major," General Mobutu said in Swahili, "she really is something to look at! An absolute beauty!"

"Well, since it's truth time," Lowell said, "why don't we confide in General Mobutu that Miss Taylor is actually the Dar es Salaam CIA station chief?"

"So Major Lunsford led me to believe," Mobutu said in French.

"Unfortunately, General," Cecilia Taylor said in perfect Swahili, "Major Lunsford talks too much."

Mobutu laughed out loud.

"You speak Swahili very well, mademoiselle," Mobutu said in French. "Are you familiar with the Swahili saying?"-he gave the saying in Swahili.

Dannelly and Supo laughed. Supo waved his finger-naughty boy-at Father Lunsford, who looked very uncomfortable.