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 sonofabitch, 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 ambassador has qualms—which I frankly don’t share—about embarrassing the President.”
“The Office of the President,” Montvale corrected him. “I would happily embarrass Clendennen but I can’t figure out how to separate in the mind of the people the asshole from the office he holds.”
The obscenity and a general slurring of speech confirmed to Danton that the ambassador and Ellsworth had been at the bar for some time.
Danton looked at Ellsworth with a raised eyebrow.
“The ambassador is no longer on the red phone circuit,” Ellsworth said. “The President won’t even return the ambassador’s calls. And we no longer have access to the White House Yukon fleet.”
“That sonofabitch!” Danton said.
“He has also taken to referring to me as ‘Ambassador 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.”
“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.”