"There is a USAF colonel here who wants to talk to a defense attache," he announced, and then handed the telephone to Torine.

"This is Colonel Jacob Torine, USAF. Are you the defense attache, Captain?" Brief pause. "Then get him on the G.o.dd.a.m.ned horn, or down here, and right G.o.dd.a.m.n now!"

An Army lieutenant colonel appeared.

"Colonel Torine?" he asked.

"Right."

"I'm Lieutenant Colonel Martin, sir. I'm the Army attache. May I see your identification, please, sir?"

Torine produced his identification again.

"How may I help you, Colonel?"

"We would like to see either the amba.s.sador or the chief of mission," Torine said.

"May I ask why?"

"No, G.o.ddammit, you may not!" Torine exploded.

"Jake!" Castillo said, warningly. "Colonel, what we need to do is get into the White House switchboard on a secure line."

"And you are, sir?"

"My name is Castillo. I'm with the Secret Service."

He showed Lieutenant Colonel Martin his credentials.

"This is very unusual," Lieutenant Colonel Martin said.

"I'm prepared to explain it to the amba.s.sador or the chief of mission," Castillo said.

"One moment, please," Lieutenant Colonel Martin said, and motioned for the Marine guard to slide him the telephone. He punched in a number. "This is Colonel Martin. We have an Air Force colonel here, I've checked his ID, who wants to be connected to the White House switchboard. Can we do that?"

There was a reply.

Lieutenant Colonel Martin turned to Colonel Torine.

"He said that you have to be authorized to connect to the White House switchboard. Do you have that authorization?"

"I do," Torine said.

"Excuse me, sir. But how do I know that?"

Torine threw up his hands in disgust.

"That was your commo room?" Castillo asked.

Lieutenant Colonel Martin nodded.

"Is it tied into the White House switchboard?"

"To the State Department switchboard."

"Tell him to get the State Department switchboard operator. Tell her, or him, as the case may be, that C. G. Castillo wants to talk to the secretary of state, and that if she is not available, to be connected to the White House switchboard."

"You want to talk to the secretary of state, Mr. Costello?"

"It's Castillo. See that you get that right when you call."

"Sir, it's four o'clock in the morning in Washington."

"So I have been told."

"Just one moment, please," Lieutenant Colonel Martin said, and took his hand off the mouthpiece of the telephone. "Mr. Costello-"

"Castillo. Castillo. With an 'a' and an 'i,'" Castillo said.

"Mr. Castello Castello wonders if it would be possible for you to contact the State Department switchboard and ask . . . see if they will take his call for the secretary of state." Martin turned to Charley. "The office of the secretary, Mr. Castello, or Secretary Cohen personally?" wonders if it would be possible for you to contact the State Department switchboard and ask . . . see if they will take his call for the secretary of state." Martin turned to Charley. "The office of the secretary, Mr. Castello, or Secretary Cohen personally?"

"Castillo with an 'i,'" Castillo responded. "Secretary Cohen personally."

"Secretary of State Cohen personally," Lieutenant Colonel Martin parroted. He put his hand over the mouthpiece again. "It'll be just a moment."

A moment later, he announced: "They will take your call, Mr. Castillo Castillo, but Secretary Cohen is not available. She's in Singapore."

"What time is it in Singapore, Seymour?"

"Jesus, Major, I don't know," Sergeant Kranz confessed.

It was apparent to Castillo that Lieutenant Colonel Martin had picked up on Seymour's use of his rank.

"I don't think this is a secure line, is it, Colonel?" Castillo said. "I need a secure line."

"Yes, of course," Lieutenant Colonel Martin said, and thought that over. "If you'll give the sergeant your ident.i.ty doc.u.ments, gentlemen, he'll give you a visitor's badge and I'll escort you to a room with a secure telephone."

They were in the process of handing over their doc.u.ments when a tall, rather distinguished-looking man walked through the door, smiled, and said, "Good morning."

"Good morning, Mr. Amba.s.sador," Lieutenant Colonel Martin said.

"You're the amba.s.sador?" Castillo asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am," the amba.s.sador said. "And you are?"

"He's from the Secret Service, Mr. Amba.s.sador," Lieutenant Colonel Martin offered helpfully.

"Really?"

"And he wants to talk to the secretary of state, sir, personally."

"Indeed?" the amba.s.sador said, and went to the counter and examined the identification doc.u.ments.

"You did tell Mr. Castillo that the secretary of state isn't here, didn't you, Colonel?" the amba.s.sador asked.

"Actually, she's in Singapore," Castillo said.

"Is she indeed?" the amba.s.sador said. "Would you mind telling me what this is about, Mr. Castillo?"

"I will tell you, sir. But I suggest this isn't the place to do that, sir."

"Well, then, why don't we go to my office and we'll see if we can get to the bottom of this."

"Thank you very much, sir," Castillo said.

"I knew Jack Masterson," the amba.s.sador said. "He was a good man."

"Yes, sir, he was."

"You're in Budapest, so there's obviously a Hungarian connection. Are you going to tell me what that is?"

"I was running down a source of information, sir. There is no Hungarian connection I know of to Mr. Masterson's murder."

The amba.s.sador considered that a moment, then pointed at a telephone on his desk. "Help yourself, Mr. Castillo."

"Thank you, sir." He picked it up and punched the "O" key.

"My name is Castillo. Would you get me the state department switchboard on a secure line, please?"

"Sir, I'll have to have someone authorize that."

Castillo pushed the SPEAKERPHONE b.u.t.ton. "Mr. Amba.s.sador, I'm going to need your authorization."

"It's okay," the amba.s.sador said, raising his voice.

Castillo started to push the SPEAKERPHONE b.u.t.ton again to shut it off but changed his mind.

"One moment, please," the emba.s.sy operator said.

"State Department."

"This line is secure?"

"Yes, sir."

"My name is C. G. Castillo. Can you patch me through to the secretary, please?"

"No, sir. The secretary is out of the country, and the secure voice link is down."

"Okay. Put me through to the White House switchboard, please."

"White House."

"C. G. Castillo on a secure line for the secretary of state, please."

"Her voice link is down, Mr. Castillo. We have a secure teletypewriter link. You'll have to dictate what-"

"Before we try that, put me through to Secretary Hall's office in the Nebraska Complex, please."

"Secretary Hall's office or your office, Mr. Castillo?"

"Okay, my office."

There was the sound of the phone ringing twice.

"Mr. Castillo's line. Mr. Miller speaking."

"What are you doing there at four o'clock in the morning?"

"I had them move a cot in. It's a long ride back and forth to your apartment in the back of a Yukon. I was starting to feel like a dummy in a disaster exercise. Where are you?"

"Budapest."

"Montvale wants to talk to you. So does the boss. And we have a mysterious message from your pal Natalie. The encrypted voice link on her plane is down, and so is the one in the emba.s.sy in Singapore. Heads are going to roll about that."

"Read me the message. Maybe I won't have to talk to Montvale."

"Okay. You going to write this down, or do you just want to hear it?"

"Just read it."

"Okay. 'Top Secret-Presidential. From SecState to SecHomeSec. Start Please convey following personal to C.G. by most expeditious means. Charley, believe me, I didn't know Yung was working for me until an hour ago. I have spoken with Amba.s.sador Silvio in Buenos Aires and Amba.s.sador McGrory in Montevideo and told both to tell Yung he is to put himself and whatever intelligence he has developed at your disposal. That's all I felt safe in doing as there is something wrong with the secure voice link on both the plane and in the emba.s.sy, believe it or not. Let me know what else I can do. Best personal regards. Natalie. End Personal message from SecState.'"

"Got it, d.i.c.k."

"Who the h.e.l.l is Yung?"

"He's an FBI agent in Montevideo."

"And he's working for Cohen? What's that all about?"

"I don't know. And I guess I won't find out until we get to Buenos Aires."

"When are you going there?"

"Just as soon as we have lunch."

"Will that little airplane make it across the South Atlantic?"