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“Well, I can tell you he’s probably not drunk, because Sweaty doesn’t like him to drink too much. And that I can get word to him to call you, probably tonight, and certainly by morning. Your AFC’s working, right?”

“As a matter of fact, Paul, my miraculous AFC communications device is not working at all. The reason I called on the telephone is because nobody we tried to call on it to find Carlos answered.”

“Sir, we’re not on twenty-four/seven anymore. Just once in the morning—oh-four-twenty-hundred Zulu time—and again in the afternoon at sixteen-twenty Zulu. I’m surprised no one told you.”

“By Zulu, you mean Greenwich?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your AFC is working?”

“Yes, sir. I can have it up in a minute.”

“There’s a document I want Carlos to see. I want to send it in the highest encryption possible.”

“Yes, sir, give me a minute to turn on my AFC.”

“You can get it to him?”

“In the morning, maybe even tonight.”

“I want you and Mrs. Sieno to have a look at it, to see if you can make more sense from it than I can. And tell Carlos what you think.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s not addressed to Carlos, Paul. It’s addressed to someone else. I don’t want that party to see it until after Carlos does.”

“This sounds important, Herr Kocian.”

“I don’t know. It may well be. Is Herr Delchamps available?”

“He’s here, but he went out for dinner.”

“Show this document to him, too, please, with the same caveat that I don’t want the addressee to see it until Carlos has.”

“Got it,” Sieno said. And then, “There goes the AFC, Mr. Kocian. It shows you as online. I’m ready to receive. Send the message.”

“It came through fine, Herr Kocian,” Paul Sieno said over the encrypted AFC not quite two minutes later. “What the hell is it all about?”

“I don’t know, Paul.”

“Where did you get it?”

“A Russian who said he was Colonel Solomatin was waiting for me in the lobby of the Gellért when I came in about an hour ago.”

“I will be damned! I’ll have this in Charley’s hands just as quick as I can.”

“Thank you, Paul.”

“Herr Kocian, I’m sorry I hung up on you before.”

“No apology necessary. My best regards to Mrs. Sieno.”

“Will do,” Sieno said, then gave the AFC the order: “Break it down.”

The green LED indicating the AFC was connected to another AFC device at Encryption Level One went out.

[TWO]


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