"Marriott and Hilton, no," Santini said. "There's generally at least one legal attache-which is what they call FBI agents in the diplomatic world-on their premises. Marriott and Hilton are thus reminded of their patriotic duty not to launder money. The locally owned casinos are where it's done. Isn't that so, Yung?"

"If you say so," Special Agent Yung said. He turned to Castillo. "When do you want to see Amba.s.sador McGrory?"

"I don't need to see him," Castillo said.

"He wants to see you."

"I don't need to see him, at least not today."

"He wants to see you."

"So you said."

"You are aware, aren't you, Mr. Castillo, that the amba.s.sador is the man in charge of all U.S. government activities in the country to which he is accredited?"

"So I've heard," Castillo said. "We'll talk about this when we have some privacy."

Yung didn't reply.

Yung had a s.p.a.cious, top-floor apartment in a three-story building on the Rambla, the waterfront highway between Carrasco and Montevideo, to the south.

Yung waved them, not very graciously, into chairs in the living room.

"All right, Mr. Castillo, what can I do for you? I'm sure you'll understand that I am obliged to report to Amba.s.sador McGrory what may be discussed."

"Special Agent Yung," Castillo said icily, "I am now going to show you my credentials identifying me as a supervisory agent of the United States Secret Service."

He got out of his chair and held his credentials in front of Yung, who examined them and then nodded.

"Are you satisfied that I am Supervisory Special Agent Carlos G. Castillo of the United States Secret Service, Special Agent Yung?"

"I'm satisfied," Yung said.

"These gentlemen, Special Agents Anthony J. Santini and John M. Britton of the Secret Service, will now show you their credentials. When you are satisfied they are who I am telling you they are, please say so."

Santini and then Britton got out of their chairs, walked to Yung, showed him their credentials, waited until he nodded, and then went back to their chairs.

"Are you satisfied, Special Agent Yung, that we are all who I am telling you we are?"

"I'm satisfied. Are you going to tell me what-"

"Gentlemen," Castillo interrupted him. "I want you to make note that at zero-eight-one-zero hours, local time, 29 July 2005, in his residence in Carrasco, Uruguay, we identified ourselves to Special Agent Yung as members of the U.S. Secret Service by showing him our credentials, and he acknowledged their validity."

Santini and Britton nodded.

"Special Agent Yung, what I am about to tell you is cla.s.sified as Top Secret-Presidential. The unauthorized disclosure of any of this information to any person not authorized by the President, or myself, to have access to this material, and that specifically includes Amba.s.sador McGrory, is a felony under the United States Code. Do you understand all that I have said?"

"You're telling me I can't report this to Amba.s.sador McGrory? Frankly, Castillo, I don't believe you have that authority."

"In the vernacular, Special Agent Yung, I don't give a flying f.u.c.k what you believe or don't believe. The question was whether or not you understood what I said to you."

"I understood it."

"Good. I now inform you that I am the chief of the Office of Organizational a.n.a.lysis-"

"The what?"

". . . which is a covert and clandestine organization set up in a Presidential Finding within the Department of Homeland Security and is charged with locating the a.s.sa.s.sins of J. Winslow Masterson and Sergeant Roger Markham, USMC, and rendering them harmless. Do you understand that?"

"That sounds as if you plan to . . . kill them."

"The question was, do you understand what I have just said?"

"There's nothing wrong with my hearing."

"To carry out this mission, it is necessary for us to find one Jean-Paul Lorimer, an American citizen employed by the UN, who I have reason to believe is somewhere in this area."

"I told you before, I never heard of him."

"Aware of my mission, the secretary of state, for whom you work, has relayed through either or both Amba.s.sadors McGrory and Silvio her orders to you to place yourself and whatever information you may have at my disposal. You have received those orders, have you not?"

"Amba.s.sador McGrory told me that you were going to come to me, and that I was to cooperate with you as much as possible," Yung said. "And that if you came to me directly, instead of through the emba.s.sy, I was to tell you he wanted to see you. Immediately."

"With the implication that you didn't have to cooperate with me unless he knew what this is about? And until he gave his permission?"

"For Christ's sake, Castillo, he's the amba.s.sador."

"Tony, see if you can get Amba.s.sador Silvio on your cellular," Castillo ordered.

"I work for Amba.s.sador McGrory, not Silvio," Yung said.

"No, you don't. You work for the State Department's bureau of intelligence and research. Doing something so secret that the secretary of state didn't know about it until the day before yesterday," Castillo said.

Castillo could see a flicker of surprise on Yung's face.

"Did you tell McGrory what you're really doing down here?"

Yung didn't reply.

"Okay, that explains a lot. You didn't tell McGrory what you're really doing, so he thinks you're just one more legal attache working for him. Right?"

"I've got the amba.s.sador, Charley," Santini said.

"That was quick," Castillo said as he reached for the telephone.

"The miracle of modern communications," Santini said.

"Good morning, Mr. Amba.s.sador. I'm on a cellular, so we're going to have to be careful what we're saying. I'm in Montevideo-actually, Carrasco-with Special Agent Yung. What I hope you'll be willing to do is relay the message from our friend Natalie to Yung. When the other fellow did that, it got a little garbled, and he's annoyed that I'm walking on his gra.s.s without his permission."

Amba.s.sador Silvio replied briefly.

"Thank you, sir. I hope to see you shortly," Castillo said, and handed Yung the telephone.

"Special Agent Yung, Mr. Amba.s.sador," Yung said.

He had the cellular to his ear for thirty seconds, and then he said, "Yes, sir, that's perfectly clear. That's not exactly the way I received the message here."

Amba.s.sador Silvio said something else.

"Yes, sir," Yung said. "I understand, sir. Thank you very much, sir. Do you want to speak with Mr. Castillo again, sir?"

The amba.s.sador apparently did not wish to again speak with Castillo. Yung ended the call and handed the cellular to Santini.

Yung smiled wryly at Castillo.

"After the amba.s.sador relayed Secretary Cohen's message," he added, "he said, 'For purposes of clarification, Mr. Castillo has permission from the highest possible authority not only to walk on anybody's gra.s.s he wants but to sow it with salt if that's what he chooses to do.'"

Castillo chuckled and smiled and said, "Okay. You satisfied?"

Yung nodded.

"So what are you actually doing here? I know it's not looking for money launderers."

"You don't know?"

"No, I don't. But you're going to tell me, right?"

Yung nodded. "Actually, it has something to do with money laundering. But not to develop a case against money launderers."

"I don't think I follow you."

"How much do you know about the UN oil-for-food business?"

"A h.e.l.l of a lot more now than I did a week ago," Castillo said. "What about it?"

"An astonishing number of people all over Europe and the Middle East-for that matter, all over the world- made a lot of money from that operation. Primarily Frenchmen-some very highly placed Frenchmen-and Germans. And Russians. It's an incredible amount of money, and like the n.a.z.is in World War Two, they decided that South America, primarily the Southern Cone, is the place to hide it.

"The director of the bureau of intelligence and research started to build dossiers on these people even before the Second Desert War. Using his own people, I mean. And it got out. There's a lot of one-worlders, UN lovers, in the State Department. They think that leaking things is their patriotic duty. So he, quote, called off, end quote, the investigation. And then he went to the director of the FBI-they were both FBI agents as young men-and explained the situation and asked for help. And here I am."

"I heard you were a hotshot," Castillo said.

"Who told you that?"

"The same guy who told me whatever you were doing here it wasn't looking for money launderers."

"Howard Kennedy," Yung said.

"Who?"

"I know you're pals," Yung said.

"I never heard that name in my entire life until just now," Castillo said. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Yeah, sure. Well, if you should ever happen to meet somebody with that name, give him my regards," Yung said. "When we were young, innocent, and naive, we really thought we could protect society from the barbarians. Had a lot of fun, for a while, doing it. And then Howard decided he'd rather be a barbarian. It paid better, and it wasn't nearly as frustrating. Sometimes I think I should have changed sides when he did."

"So tell me about these dossiers you're building," Castillo said.

"Well, there's fourteen FBI agents, including me, here looking at money laundering. As one of them, I have access to what's developed. They're looking for drug money, primarily-and there's a h.e.l.l of a lot of that-which means they're looking for Colombians and Mexicans, mostly. And Americans, of course. When they come across some European moving a lot of money around here, they check with the DEA, the treasury department, whoever, to see if there's a drug connection or an American connection of some kind. If there isn't, they let it drop." He paused, then added, "And I pick it up."

"And do what with it?"

"What my boss wants is proof-photocopies-of bank records; who deposited how much and when; records of who bought an estancia or a car dealership or a million-dollar villa in Punta del Este. I don't really know what he thinks anybody will do with it. He still has stars in his eyes. Expose the bad guys and the world will be a better place. I can't see that happening."

"Yes, you can," Castillo said. "You've still got stars in your eyes, too. Otherwise, you'd have changed sides when your friend-what was his name?-did."

"And what about you, Castillo? No stars in your eyes? How did you get involved in something like this? I know what 'render them harmless' really means."

"I am simply carrying out the instructions of my government, as I understand them, as an officer and a gentleman of the United States Army."

"Oh, s.h.i.t!" Yung chuckled. "Yeah, that's right. You are an Army officer, aren't you? A major. Back to my question, how did an Army officer get involved in something like this?"

"I just told you," Castillo said. "Where are your files?"

"Here. I can't leave them in the emba.s.sy. Another price I pay for being a secret hotshot, to use Kennedy's words, is that my fellow FBI agents think I'm either stupid or lazy or both. I don't turn in half the work they do."

"If you're working on something like this, I'm surprised you can turn in any work at all," Castillo said. "Can I see the files?"

"Reluctantly," Yung said. "I don't want it getting out what I've been doing here. Who else is going to know what's in my files? Even that I have them?"

"Would you believe me if I say no one?"

"Why should I?"

"I'll make a deal with you," Castillo said. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours. And that will be our little secret."

"What's in your files?"

"The names of people-Germans, French, and Russians-who are reliably reported to have made money on Oil for Food and probably are sending it over here. I promised my source I would not turn them over to the CIA or the FBI or anybody. And I won't. But maybe it would help if you took a look at them, maybe make a match with somebody you've got a dossier on. That might help us find this b.a.s.t.a.r.d Lorimer."

"What's your interest in Lorimer?"

"He was the head bagman for Oil for Food. He knows who got how much, and when, and what for. And if I find him, I think I can convince him to point me in the direction of whoever whacked Masterson and Markham. Lorimer is who I'm really after."

"Never heard of him," Yung said. "Sorry."

"And I have to find him before the bad guys do. They want to make sure he doesn't talk. They already whacked one of his guys in Vienna. Deal?"

"Why not?" Yung said. "Where's your list?"