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“General McNab made the point to me that he has not spoken with you since before Salazar and the others were murdered and Colonel Ferris kidnapped . . .”

“He hasn’t,” Castillo confirmed.

“. . . which of course suggested to me that he wanted me to bring you into the loop especially in view of the fact that the other players are not liable to.”

“The other players being?”

“Thus far, Naylor and Beiderman. So, after speaking with General McNab, I spoke—separately—with both General Naylor and Secretary Beiderman.”

“They agree with your crazy theory?”

“I don’t have a crazy theory, Charley. Write that down. In blood. On your forehead.”

“They agree with the ‘he’s out of his mind’ theory?”

“They talked around it. But, yeah, they’re worried.”

“What happened when Beiderman or Naylor told McNab the President wanted him to retire?”

“It didn’t get that far. Beiderman told McNab to get out of Dodge before he had to show him the pictures. He did.”

“For McNab to retire would be an admission that he was involved in this nutty coup d’état scenario. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—do that. He’d demand a court-martial.”

“That’s precisely what McNab told them just before Beiderman told him to go to Afghanistan before he could show him the pictures and deliver the ‘retire now’ ultimatum. Both Beiderman and Naylor are hoping the whole thing will pass when Clendennen has a couple of days to cool off.”

“That looks to me like pissing into the wind, Frank.”

“Yeah. Agreed.”

“Did my name come up when you talked with Naylor and Beiderman?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Either one of them think I’m involved in this conspiracy?”

“No. But when your name came up, the phrase Beiderman used was ‘loose cannon,’ in the phrase ‘the one thing we don’t need in these circumstances is a loose cannon like Castillo.’ ”

“And Naylor didn’t rush to my defense?”

“No. He didn’t.”

“So what happens now?”

“We wait to see if this coup d’état theory of the President goes away when he’s had a few days to cool off.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Lammelle was silent a long moment. Then he said, “I don’t know, Charley.”

Then, when Castillo didn’t reply for maybe thirty seconds, Lammelle asked, “Any questions?”

“Just one. Where’s my helicopter?”

“I’m not sure I should tell you.”

“Come on, Frank.”

Lammelle took another long moment of silence before he said: “Okay, Charley. In a move I regretted before I finished hanging up the phone, I ordered it loaded onto a truck and taken to Martindale Army Airfield at Fort Sam for indefinite storage.”


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