"Do we know what kind of an airplane Naylor has?"

"No. And that bothers me, too. All Naylor told MacDill is the call sign. He told MacDill 'Big Boy' will be at thirty thousand feet moving at five hundred knots."

"That doesn't sound as if that's Naylor's Gulfstream."

"No, it doesn't. Which may be because Naylor's Gulfstream is on the tarmac at MacDill."

"I forgot that," Waters said.

"Yeah," Powell said.

"You think he has Castillo? Or the Russians? Or both?"

"Well, he could be smuggling drugs. But I'd say it's likely that he has either or both, wouldn't you?"

"Looks that way. What are you going to do?"

Powell picked up his telephone.

"This is DCI Powell. Get onto whoever would know and get me a track on all aircraft operating over the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, or headed toward the middle, at thirty thousand feet and five hundred knots. The one I'm looking for will probably not-repeat, not-have a transponder. Got it?"

He hung up.

"Are you going to tell the President, John?"

"No. I thought this would be our little secret."

He picked up a red telephone and punched one of the b.u.t.tons on it.

"Jack Powell, Mr. President. I have just learned that General Naylor has ordered that a flight of F-16s . . .

"Mr. President, I a.s.sure you that I'm doing all that's humanly possible to add to what I know, what I just told you . . .

"Yes, sir, Mr. President, I'll leave here immediately . . .

"Yes, sir, Mr. President, I fully understand that I am to take no action of any kind in this matter without your prior permission."

[EIGHT].

The Mayflower Hotel 1127 Connecticut Avenue, N.W.

Washington, D.C.

1745 13 February 2007

The manager on duty, who wore a frock coat with a tiny rose pinned to the lapel, intercepted the party before they were more than one hundred yards into the lobby.

"Mr. Barlow?"

"I am Thomas Barlow," Berezovsky said.

"My name is Winfield Broom, Mr. Barlow, I am the manager on duty. Welcome to the Mayflower."

"Thank you," Berezovsky said.

"From time to time, little mistakes are made, but sometimes-as now-they have a pleasant result."

"I don't think I understand."

"Well, when Mr. Darby called to make your reservations, we were of course happy to accommodate him and you. But then Mr. Darby called back a few minutes later and asked if Mr. von und zu Gossinger still kept an apartment here. I told him he did, although we haven't seen him for some time. And then thirty minutes after that, Mr. von und zu Gossinger himself called. He said he was skiing in Gstaad, but that he would be very pleased if you would stay in his apartment while you're here."

"That's very kind of Mr. von und zu Gossinger," Barlow said.

"Right this way, please," Mr. Broom said, gesturing toward the elevator bank.

"This is really very nice," Svetlana said five minutes later. "Not at all what comes to mind when you hear 'motel.'"

"I'm glad you think so," Mr. Broom said. "Now, the sauna is separate ..."

"Why does Mr. von und zu Gossinger call this hotel the 'Monica Lewinsky Motel'?" Svetlana asked.

"I'm sure I have no idea, madam," Mr. Broom said, just a little huffily. "Now, if you'll please come this way?"

[NINE].

Old Ebbitt Grill 675 15th Street, N.W.

Washington, D.C.

1750 13 February 2007

"Truman, I told you that if we just waited, Roscoe would inevitably show up," Amba.s.sador Charles M. Montvale said to Mr. Truman Ellsworth looking over his shoulder to the end of the ma.s.sive bar. "h.e.l.lo, Roscoe!"

"Your office said I could find you here," Danton said, taking a seat next to them at the bar.

"Waiting for my master's call, Roscoe. The odds are strongly against it ever coming."

"I'll have one of those," Danton said to the bartender. "And if these two are not already over their limit, give them another."

"What happened to you after we came back?" Ellsworth asked.

"I thought you would never ask," Danton said, and told them ...

"And Castillo's on the airplane with Naylor?" Ellsworth said when he finished.

"Naylor, McNab, and General Yakov Sirinov."

"That, I am having a hard time believing," Montvale said.

"What if I told you the airplane is a Tu-934A?"

"Even harder to believe."

"Charles, I think Roscoe is serious," Ellsworth said.

Montvale looked at Danton, who nodded.

"The plane should land at Andrews about nine o'clock," he said.

"And the Russians?"

"Maybe I'll tell you later. What I need right now is a way to get onto Andrews."

"I think we could arrange that," Ellsworth said. "And I submit, Charles, that we are indebted to Roscoe."

"I'd like to see this myself," Montvale said.

"And I would like somehow to get in touch with C. Harry Whelan, that sonofab.i.t.c.h, and get him and Wolf News out there," Danton said.

"That also I can handle," Ellsworth said. "He's been driving us crazy wanting to talk to us. The amba.s.sador has qualms-which I frankly don't share-about embarra.s.sing the President."

"The Office Office of the President," Montvale corrected him. "I would happily embarra.s.s Clendennen but I can't figure out how to separate in the mind of the people the a.s.shole from the office he holds." of the President," Montvale corrected him. "I would happily embarra.s.s Clendennen but I can't figure out how to separate in the mind of the people the a.s.shole from the office he holds."

The obscenity and a general slurring of speech confirmed to Danton that the amba.s.sador and Ellsworth had been at the bar for some time.

Danton looked at Ellsworth with a raised eyebrow.

"The amba.s.sador is no longer on the red phone circuit," Ellsworth said. "The President won't even return the amba.s.sador's calls. And we no longer have access to the White House Yukon fleet."

"That sonofab.i.t.c.h!" Danton said.

"He has also taken to referring to me as 'Amba.s.sador Stupid,'" Montvale said. "The director of National Stupidity."

Ellsworth said, "You wouldn't look stupid, Charles, if you were at Andrews when Castillo and Company arrive."

"True."

"I've got some caveats," Danton said. "I don't want to get into the Congo-X business until Lammelle has a chance to deal with Murov, the rezident rezident."

"My, people have been baring their hearts to you, haven't they, Roscoe?" Montvale asked.

"What I'd really like to do is have Sirinov on Wolf News, being carried off the Tu-934A."

"Carried off? He has been injured?"

"Sweaty shot him in the foot," Danton said.

"'Sweaty'?"

"Former Podpolkovnik Svetlana Alekseeva of the SVR," Danton said.

"And where did this altercation occur?"

"I can't tell you that. Not now."

"I don't want to be responsible in any way for any Congo-X being released anywhere," Montvale said.

"That's not a problem. We know how to kill it. We've killed all the Russians have. Hamilton's got some in his lab, but the Russians are out of ammo."

"How do you know that?" Montvale asked softly.

His speech, Danton noticed, was no longer slurred.

"Frank Lammelle told me thirty-five minutes ago. He was then at Fort Detrick."

Montvale considered that a moment, and then said, "Truman, be so good as to call Mr. Whelan. Tell him I will agree to be interviewed tonight, providing that it is on my terms, and that he and a camera crew are outside in thirty minutes."

"My pleasure," Ellsworth said.

"If he agrees, I will spend that thirty minutes getting those terms from Roscoe and drinking black coffee. I understand that the only thing that black coffee does to a drunk is make him a bright-eyed drunk, but perhaps C. Harry Whelan, who is not too bright, will not notice.

"If Whelan agrees to come, call the limousine service and have a car outside in thirty minutes."

"Yes, Mr. Amba.s.sador," Truman Ellsworth said as he took his cell phone from his pocket.

[TEN].