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McNab stopped and looked at Miller.

"Surely, Major, after you went and got yourself shot up in The Desert, you didn't think you were going to be running around the Congo bush with Phineas and Uncle Remus, did you?"

He turned to Colonel Hamilton.

"The big one is Uncle Remus, Colonel, and the ugly one Phineas DeWitt." He pointed. "Counting them, that's two of us who know anything about that part of Africa or have ever been there. Now you make it three."

"As a matter of fact, sir," Hamilton said, "I remember seeing Mr. DeWitt. At the Hotel du Lac in Bujumbura, Mr. DeWitt?"

"Yes, sir," DeWitt said. "I stayed there a lot. But I don't remember you."

"I was trying very hard to pass myself off as a Tutsi," Hamilton said.

"That made two of us, sir. I didn't speak Kinyarwanda, so I tried to keep my mouth shut."

"General," Hamilton said, "I'm sure that Mr. DeWitt knows as much about that area as I do, and I am therefore . . ."

"Wondering why I need you? Indulge me a little longer, please, Colonel."

"Yes, sir. You said something about a chemical--"

"What I politely asked you to do, Colonel, was to indulge me a little longer."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, General."

"So we have Britton in Philadelphia, Miller in Washington, and Colonel Castillo--and the Lear--here in Pensacola. By nightfall, I suspect the FBI will have more important things to do than hang around the Pensacola airport hoping for a glance at you. The Gulfstream, they will probably have learned, is in Baltimore. But, as I have been wont to say, people in our business can never have too much in the way of dark nights. So, Charley, wait until dark before you and go out to the airport with the Barlows, Corporal Bradley, and Jack Davidson."

"Yes, sir."

"Two questions. Are you going to have enough security? And can you land at your farm in the dark?"

Castillo glanced at Davidson. "As you know, sir, I've always had to worry a little about Jack, but as long as I have Corporal Bradley, we'll be all right."

Castillo got chuckles from a few. Davidson gave him the finger.

"I'll call somebody--my cousin Fernando, most likely--and have him have somebody light the strip. Worst scenario, I'd have to go into Midland. Lears in Midland go as unnoticed as Hatteras and Bertrams in Lauderdale. Not a problem."

"That brings us to these two," McNab said, nodding at Edgar Delchamps and Alex Darby. "Your call, Charley; who goes where?"

"I think that's Edgar's call," Castillo said.

"Alex to Fulda-slash-Marburg to deal with your guy there," Delchamps said immediately. "Me to Vienna or Budapest or wherever the hell Uncle Billy is. Okay, Alex?"

Darby nodded.

It occurred to Castillo that it was the first time Delchamps had opened his mouth since the session began.

It's not that he's shy--nor is Darby.

For that matter, nobody's shy; more the opposite.

It means they've agreed with everything McNab has said.

God, what a man!

"Communications?" McNab said.

"There's an AFC in Gorner's office," Castillo replied, "and I gave one to Sandor Tor."


Tags: W.E.B. Griffin Presidential Agent Thriller