The Hostage - Part 22
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Part 22

"I am both deeply sorry and grossly embarra.s.sed, Your Excellency, that I have failed my duty," Munz said.

"If you and Sieno were sitting up all night in Paul's car, Colonel," Silvio said, "I don't think anyone can fairly accuse you of being derelict in your duties."

"I f.u.c.ked up big time, Mr. Amba.s.sador, that's the bottom line," Paul Sieno said.

"I don't feel that you did, Paul," Silvio said kindly, then turned to Alex Darby. "Alex, will you stay here to learn what you can? And at the hospital?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. Castillo, can I see you for a moment?"

"Yes, sir, of course."

Silvio took Castillo's arm and led him out of earshot.

"We're going to have to talk, Mr. Castillo," the amba.s.sadorsaid. "Is there some reason we can't do that now? Would you ride to the emba.s.sy with me?"

"Yes, sir, of course."

"Do you have any idea what's going on here, Mr. Castillo?" Amba.s.sador Silvio asked when they were in the amba.s.sador's big BMW. "Is there something I should know?"

"Sir, I have no idea what's going on," Castillo said, and then blurted, "except that it's a f.u.c.king outrage."

"I'm a diplomat, I'm not supposed to use language like that, but I quite agree."

"Sorry, sir. That slipped out. He was such a nice guy!"

"Yes, he was," Silvio agreed. Then he said, "Excuse me," and took out his cellular telephone and pushed an autodial number.

"Jack has been murdered, my love," he said in Spanish. "At the moment, that's all I know. Betsy, who has been drugged, has been taken to the German Hospital- "No. Drugged. Not sedated- "I was going to suggest that you go to the hospital, but until they bring her out of it, I can't see what good that would do. Alex Darby's wife is with the Masterson children- "Thank you. Make sure you have at least one of Lowery's people with you, and that the Policia Federal are following you- "None of us would have believed what just happened, my love. Do what I tell you. I'll call you shortly."

[TWO].

The Office of the Amba.s.sador The United States Emba.s.sy Avenida Colombia 4300 Palermo, Buenos Aires, Argentina 0635 23 July 2005 "I expect that you will want to make a report to your superiors, Mr. Castillo," Amba.s.sador Silvio said as he led Castillo into his office.

"Yes, sir."

"You might as well do that from here," Silvio said.

"That's very kind of you, sir, but I don't mind-"

"We really haven't finished our conversation, have we?" Silvio interrupted him. "Just as soon as I speak with the secretary of state, I'll have them put you through."

Is he doing that to be a nice guy-which he certainly seems to be-or so that he can hear my report?

"Thank you very much, sir."

"Having said what I just said, I realize that I have no idea how to get through to the secretary at this hour of the morning-it's what, half past five in Washington? And I think she would want to hear this directly from me."

"Sir, I know how to do that," Castillo said.

The amba.s.sador indicated the secure telephone on his desk.

Castillo put the receiver to his ear and heard, "Operator."

"My name is Castillo. I need a secure line to the White House. The amba.s.sador's here to clear it, if you need that."

Silvio took the phone from Castillo.

"This is Amba.s.sador Silvio. Mr. Castillo is cleared to call the White House now and at any time in the future."

"Thank you," Castillo said as he took the handset back.

"White House."

"This is the United States Emba.s.sy, Buenos Aires. Please verify this line is secure."

Ten seconds later the White House operator said, "This line is secure."

"This is C. G. Castillo. I need the secretary of state on a secure line, please."

This took a little longer. It was thirty-five seconds before a male voice said, "This is the secretary of state's secure line."

"C. G. Castillo for the secretary of state."

"The secretary is asleep, Mr. Castillo."

"I thought she might be. Put me through, please."

Another forty-five seconds pa.s.sed.

"Put him through, please," Natalie Cohen said.

"Castillo, Madam Secretary."

"Charley, do you realize what time it is here in Washington?"

"Yes, ma'am. Hold one for Amba.s.sador Silvio."

He heard the secretary of state mutter, "Oh, G.o.d!" as he handed the amba.s.sador the telephone.

Then he started for the door. The amba.s.sador waved his hand to signal him to stay.

"Amba.s.sador Silvio, Madam Secretary," Silvio said. "I have the sad duty to inform you that the body of Chief of Mission J. Winslow Masterson was found an hour and a half ago. He had been shot twice in the head. . . ."

"The secretary wishes to speak to you, Mr. Castillo," Silvio said, and handed him the telephone.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"How come you placed the call, Charley?"

"I knew how to get through to you without going through layers of bureaucrats."

"Do you know anything the amba.s.sador doesn't?"

"No, ma'am. n.o.body has any idea what's going on."

"Presumably you've told Matt Hall?"

"No, ma'am. That's next."

"You want me to give him a heads-up?"

"Thank you, but I don't think that'll be necessary."

"I'm going to have to wake the President up with this. He finally told me, last night, that he'd sent you down there. And of what you found out, Sherlock."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm sure we'll be talking, Charley."

"Yes, ma'am."

There was a series of clicks on the line, then: "White House. Are you through?"

"Castillo again. Now I need Secretary Hall on a secure line."

"Hold, please."

"Secretary Hall's secure line," said a new voice.

"Tom?"

"This is Special Agent Dinsler. Who is this, please?"

"Is either Tom McGuire or Joel Isaacson around there?"

"No."

"My name is Castillo. Will you put me through to Secretary Hall, please."

"The secretary is asleep, sir."

He called me "sir," which means he doesn't know Castillo from Adam's off ox.

"Wake him, please."

"May I ask what this concerns, sir?"

"Get him on the G.o.dd.a.m.n phone, now!"

There was no reply, but fifteen seconds later Secretary of Homeland Security Matthew Hall came on the line.

"All you had to do was tell Dinsler who you are, Charley. You didn't have to swear at him," Hall said, his voice annoyed.

"Yes, sir. Sir, Mr. Masterson, Mr. Masterson, Mr. Masterson, the chief of mission, has been murdered." the chief of mission, has been murdered."

"Jesus Christ!" Hall said. "And his wife?"

"She's in the German Hospital, surrounded by eight SIDE agents, and four of ours. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds drugged her. She woke up-more accurately, came half out of it- in the backseat of a taxicab and found her husband slumped beside her with two bullets in his brain."

"My G.o.d, Charley!"

"Yeah, and he was a really nice guy, too."

"When did this happen?"

"Sometime after midnight. He got away from the people sitting on him at his house-a CIA guy and a big shot, a colonel from SIDE, plus half a dozen others- and apparently took a taxicab to meet somebody. Probably to pay ransom, or to arrange to pay it."

"Give me all the details, and slowly. I'm going to have to tell the President and Natalie."

"Natalie already knows. Amba.s.sador Silvio just talked to her, and she said she would tell the President."

"Okay. Now you tell me what you know."

"Yes, sir. There's not much beyond what I already have told you. A truck driver found Mrs. Masterson wandering dazed on a street in the port. She had been drugged. He called the cops, the cops found Masterson's body, searched it enough to find his diplomat's carnet, and called SIDE. The colonel from SIDE, a heavy hitter, was sitting outside Masterson's house with one of Darby's guys.

"Darby's guy called Darby, Darby called the amba.s.sador, and then called me and said he was sending a car for me. The SIDE colonel, his name is Munz, was in Darby's guy's car. When we got there, Mrs. Masterson was already in an ambulance, with an oxygen mask, and there were cops all over the place.

"Darby, the amba.s.sador, and the emba.s.sy security guy, Lowery, and some of his guys showed up moments later. Once the amba.s.sador had seen Mrs. Masterson, they took her to the hospital. The SIDE colonel sent two cars and eight of his men with the ambulance, and Lowery and some of our people went with them."

"How is Mrs. Masterson?"

"She's still pretty much out of it, but once they get her to the hospital-"

"What the h.e.l.l is going on, Charley? Who the h.e.l.l is doing this? Why?"

"n.o.body has a clue, and every time I think maybe this, or maybe that, it doesn't wash."

"For example?"

"A bungled kidnapping. Why did they kill Masterson if he paid the ransom? Why didn't they kill her, too? They killed the cabdriver, maybe-probably-because he saw them. So why let her live? She certainly saw something. I just wish the President had sent somebody who knows what he's doing down here."

"He didn't. He sent you," Hall said, and then asked, "You think Masterson was trying to pay the ransom? Where would he get the money? I thought you said there had been no contact with the kidnappers?"

"Somebody contacted Masterson last night. Maybe before. Otherwise, why would he have gotten away from the agency guys-and SIDE-watching his house?"

"Okay."