"The backgrounds said that Captain Portet was very close to Mobutu," Finton said, but it was a question.

"Jacques Portet needs to be involved with our operations, and Mobutu needs to approve of that, too."

"The backgrounds also said that Lieutenant Portet is on a first-name basis with Mobutu," Finton said, another question phrased as a statement.

"Dr. Dannelly is not one of Jacques's admirers," Felter said.

"Why is that?" Finton asked.

Felter cocked his head, then smiled.

"I was tempted to sugarcoat the situation by saying he disapproved of Jacques's sowing of wild oats," Felter said. "But it's worse than that."

"Specifically?"

"You tell him, Jacques," Felter said.

"I was in the Hotel Leopold in Kolwezi with a lady who was not my wife. Dannelly told me I was a disgrace, and I told him to go fuck himself," Jack said.

"I don't like to pry into your personal affairs, Lieutenant. . . ." Finton said.

"Ask him anything you want," Felter said.

"Was alcohol involved?" Finton asked.

Jack nodded.

"And was the lady someone else's wife?"

Jack nodded again.

"I thought it had to be something like that," Finton said. "The Bible teaches us, 'Judge not, lest ye be judged,' and we try to follow that teaching. Our church teaches us that a man's sins are between him and God. In this case, I would say that Dr. Dannelly believed not saying something to you, to try to turn you from your wicked ways, would be a sin of omission-'we have not done those things we ought to have done'-and tried to counsel you."

"Jacques has turned from his wicked ways," Felter said. "How do we convince Dr. Dannelly of that?"

Jack thought: That's the first time I have ever heard anyone say "wicked ways" in absolute sincerity, in a conversation. And they both did it. And I'll be damned if Felter didn't mean it just as sincerely as this Mormon bishop. That's the first time I have ever heard anyone say "wicked ways" in absolute sincerity, in a conversation. And they both did it. And I'll be damned if Felter didn't mean it just as sincerely as this Mormon bishop.

"Have you, Lieutenant?" Finton asked. "Have you turned from your wicked ways?"

Jack saw from his father's raised left eyebrow that he was amused by the exchange.

Jack thought: That's three times. And if I blow this answer, I'm really going to fuck things up. That's three times. And if I blow this answer, I'm really going to fuck things up.

"I hope so," Jack said. "I think so. The day before I got married, I took Holy Communion with my fiancee. We're Anglican. There is a prayer of confession, with the same line you quoted before-'we have done those things which we ought not to have done, and we have not done those things we ought to have done'-and the next day, before a priest, I swore to God that I would be faithful to my wife. The line is 'keep myself only unto her.' I'm really going to try to keep that promise."

Jack thought: The strange thing is, I meant that; I didn't say it to get on the right side of this guy. The strange thing is, I meant that; I didn't say it to get on the right side of this guy.

"I am happy for you, then," Finton said. "If you keep that vow, it will give you joy in this world and the next."

"I hope so," Jack said.

"You might consider giving up alcohol," Finton said.

"How about 'take a little wine for your stomach's sake and thine other infirmities'? Didn't Christ say that?" Jack quipped.

Oh, shit, my mouth ran away with me again.

"Probably, if you'd limited yourself to a little wine, you wouldn't have found yourself locking horns with Dr. Dannelly," Finton said, smiling.

"Okay," Felter said. "How do we convince Dr. Dannelly that Jacques has turned from his wicked ways?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Colonel," Finton said, "but what you're really asking is if I will help you do that, as a bishop of the Church of Latter-Day Saints."

"Yes, I am," Felter said seriously.

"I will have to ask God's guidance about that," Finton said.

"Our cause here is noble, Jim," Felter reasoned. "We've talked about that."

"I will have to ask God's guidance," Finton repeated. "I will let you have my decision in the morning."

"Thank you."

"And now I'd better go back to the office," Finton said, "and see how Mary Margaret is coming with your appointment to see the chief. Would you like me to send her here with the letter for Colonel Lowell?"

"Please," Felter said.

Finton came to a position close to attention.

"With your permission, sir?"

"Granted. Thank you, Mr. Finton," Felter said.

Finton left the room.

"Interesting man," Captain Portet said. "And just for the record, Jacques, I'm glad you have turned from your wicked ways."

"What are you going to do if he says no?" Lowell asked.

"Try to do it without him, obviously," Felter said. "The next question is Father Lunsford. How do you think Mobutu would react to him?"

"Tough one," Captain Portet said. "I don't know how it would go, whether he would look at Lunsford as a fellow black soldier-he's in love with his own parachutists-or whether he would look at him as a mercenary. And he's death, literally, on them."

"Jacques?" Felter asked.

"Father speaks pretty good Swahili; that would go well with Mobutu. And we know he's impressed with what Father did before we jumped on Stanleyville."

"I go with the fellow parachutist notion," Lowell said. "All you parachute nuts recognize each other. It's you against the rest of the sane world."

"Okay," Felter said. "Father goes. I think it's important that Mobutu know him. Anybody else? Should we start infiltrating the team now?"

"I think you'd better wait to see how Mobutu reacts to this," Jack said. "If he goes along, it will make things a lot easier."

"You're going to go ahead with this in any event?" Captain Portet asked.

"We have to," Felter said.

XI.

[ ONE ].

Room 914 The Hotel Washington Washington, D.C.

0805 12 January 1965 "Good morning," Colonel Sanford T. Felter said as he came through the door to the living room.

Major G. W. Lunsford, Captain John S. Oliver, and WOJG Enrico de la Santiago quickly stood up, and a moment later, so did Lieutenant Jacques Portet.

Felter impatiently waved them back into the seats. He was wearing the same mussed suit he had worn the day before. The others were in their shirtsleeves.

Lieutenant Geoffrey Craig was on the telephone.

"We're ordering breakfast, Colonel," he said. "What would you like?"

"Toast and tea, please," Felter said. "My wife made breakfast at home."

Felter turned to Captain Portet and smiled.

"I think you may have been a good-or should I say 'sobering'? -influence on these hoodlums, JP," he said. "I see few of the usual signs of debauchery on their smiling faces."

"We went to the movies," JP said. "Topkapi. "Topkapi. With Peter Ustinov. Pretty good." With Peter Ustinov. Pretty good."

"About a jewel robbery," Lunsford furnished. "And then we came back here and, with enormous patience, Captain Portet let me grill him about the Congo."

"I asked you to call me JP, Father," Captain Portet said.

"You're like the colonel, Captain, one of those people people like me have trouble calling by anything but their rank."

"You mean I'm stuffy?"

"No, I mean you're one of those people-like the colonel- people like me have trouble calling by anything but their rank. It was intended as a compliment."

"I will buy a bigger hat," Captain Portet said. "Call me JP, Father."

"Yes, sir," Washington said.

"Learn anything interesting?" Felter asked.

"He understands their thinking, sir," Lunsford said. "I wish my guys had been here."

The door opened and CWO Finton came in.

"Good morning, sir," he said to Felter, then nodded at the others and added, "Gentlemen."

"Breakfast is on the way, Jim," Felter said. "And I heard Lieutenant Craig tell them to send an extra order of steak and eggs."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, Lieutenant, I haven't had any breakfast." He paused and looked at Felter. "Sir, if you think I would be useful in the Congo, I am prepared to go."

"Thank God," Felter said, and then heard what he had said. "I know you know I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"I like to think I know you very well, Colonel," Finton said. "I took no offense."

"Lieutenant Portet just made the point that if we can get Mobutu's cooperation, things will be a lot easier for us. To infiltrate the team, for one thing."

"There's already a problem there," Finton said. "An immediate problem. Mary Margaret tells me the Congolese Embassy is being difficult about issuing visas."

"Did she say why?" Felter asked.

"She suspects it is an expression of unhappiness with our ambassador, sir."

"Slip the Congolese Consular officer a hundred bucks," Jack said. "That usually speeds things up miraculously."

"How many visas do you need?" Captain Portet asked.

Felter looked around the room and counted with his finger. "Five," he said. "You and Jacques, Father, Jim, and me. I don't want to enter the Congo on an accredited to U.S. Embassy basis unless I have to."

"Jack and I have Congolese passports," Captain Portet said. "I think I can get visas for you and Father and Mr. Finton. When do you have to have them?"

"As soon as possible," Felter said.

"Well, can I suggest that as soon as we finish breakfast, we go over there? To the Congolese Embassy?"

[ TWO ].

Chancellery of the Embassy of the Republic of the Congo Washington, D.C.

0945 12 January 1965 The receptionist of the embassy was a tall, stunning Negro woman in her late twenties.

"Good morning, my darling," Captain Jean-Phillipe Portet greeted her in Swahili, smiling broadly. "Would you be so kind as to inform the ambassador that Captain Portet of Air Congo would like a moment of his time?"