By Order of the President

DO NOT APPROACH FENCE

Castillo got out of the back of the van, marched up to the outer fence, and saluted crisply. The tall officer returned the salute casually.

"Colonel Fortinot?" Castillo asked.

The tall officer nodded, just perceptibly.

"Sir, my name is Castillo:"

"Stop right there, Major," Lieutenant Colonel Fortinot said. "This is a restricted area. You need written authorization to enter this area. Do you have such authority?"

"No, sir. I do not."

Lieutenant Colonel Fortinot pointed at Captain Brewster.

"Are you the officer who called the duty officer here, asking that I come here?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're General Gonzalez's aide?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then you should know better than bringing any unauthorized personnel out here. I think you can count on General Gonzalez getting a memo for record reporting this incident. Good night, gentlemen."

He turned, marched toward the inner gate, and made an "open it up" gesture.

"Colonel," Castillo called out. "Before you go through that gate, I respectfully suggest you hear me out."

Colonel Fortinot continued walking.

"Sir," Castillo called, "I'm privy to the Gray Fox op in progress."

Colonel Fortinot stopped, turned, and walked back to the fence. He looked intently at Castillo for a moment. "Major, I don't nave any idea what you re talking about. Gray Fox? Never heard of it."

Then he turned and made another "open it up" gesture toward the compound.

The gate began to swing inward.

A barrel-chested, very short, totally bald civilian-in a red polo shirt and khaki trousers and carrying a CAR-4 in his hand-came out.

"Goddamn, I thought that was you!" CWO-5 Victor D'Alessandro, USA, Retired, called. "How the hell are you, Charley?"

"Hello, Vic," Castillo called.

Saved by the goddamned bell!

D'Alessandro marched through the inner gate, made an "open it up" gesture over his head, and marched toward the outer gate, which swung inward as he approached.

He walked up to Charley, looked at him carefully for a moment, said, "You looked better with the beard. What the fuck are you doing here?"

Then he wrapped his arms around Castillo, which placed his face against Castillo's chest, and lifted him off the ground.

"Presumably, Mr. D'Alessandro, you know this officer?" Colonel Fortinot said.

"Goddamn right, Colonel," D'Alessandro said, dropping Castillo to the ground. "Charley and I go way back. Word I had was that he was in Washington trying to learn how to act like a lieutenant colonel."

"Something like that, Vic," Castillo said, chuckling.

"The major does not have authorization to be here," Fortinot said.

"He does now," D'Alessandro said and turned to Charley. "They made me retire when I came back from Afghanistan the last time, Charley. So I hired on as a fucking double-dipper. I'm director of security for the stockade. GS-fucking fifteen. I'm an assimilated full fucking bird colonel. Isn't that right, Colonel?"

Lieutenant Colonel Fortinot nodded.

"You came at a bad time, Charley-knowing you, no fucking surprise-we got a Gray Fox going," D'Alessandro said.

"That's why I'm here, Vic," Castillo said. "I came up with the intel that set that off."

"Again, knowing you, no fucking surprise. So what do you need?"

"Have you got a link to General McNab?"

"Data, imagery, voice. You wouldn't believe the gear your pal Casey has come up with."

"I'd like to talk to him," Castillo said.

"No problem. He's getting ready to go wheels-up in Morocco with the backup team. I think there's still an open link. Come on. We'll see." Then he had a second thought and pointed at Captain Brewster. "Who you be, Captain?"

"My name is Brewster:"

"Gonzalez's aide?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're on the Snoopy list," D'Alessandro said. Then he said, "D'Alessandro coming in with two. On my authority."

Castillo noticed for the first time that D'Alessandro had what looked like a flesh-colored hearing aid in his right ear and that a barely visible cord ran from it into the collar of his polo shirt. There was obviously a microphone under the shirt.

"Sir," Castillo said to Lieutenant Colonel Fortinot, "may I suggest you come with us?"

Lieutenant Colonel Fortinot nodded just perceptibly and then followed D'Alessandro, Castillo, and Brewster into the compound. First the outer gate, and then the inner gate, swung closed as they marched toward the single-story brick building that had once been the headquarters of the U.S. Army Stockade, Fort Bragg.

D'Alessandro led them down a corridor to a door guarded by a sergeant who had a CAR-4 cradled in his arm like a hunter's shotgun.

"They're with me," D'Alessandro said, and then added, to the microphone under his shirt, "Open the goddamned door!"

There was a sound of a deadbolt being released and then the door opened inward.

The room was square, about twenty-five feet to a side. In the center was a very large oblong table, with room for perhaps twenty people. There were six people sitting at it. There were paper maps on one wall and video monitors showing maps of various parts of the world-including the area around Abeche, Chad-on another. There was a row of twenty-four-inch video monitors showing areas in and around the compound. Charley could see the van in which they'd come.

There was a captain sitting at the far end of the table. D'Alessandro walked there and sat down next to him and gestured for the others to take chairs.

"This is Major Castillo," D'Alessandro said. "He's in on Snoopy. The captain is General Gonzalez's aide; he's on the Snoopy list. And you all know Colonel Fortinot. Major Castillo needs to talk to General McNab. We up?"

The captain nodded and said, "All green."

"Speakerphone all right with you, Charley?" D'Alessandro asked.

"How secure is this connection?" Charley asked. "This room?"

"Don't get no more secure."

"Speakerphone's fine," Charley said.

"Speakerphone green," the captain said.

"Old Fart for Snoopy-Six," D'Alessandro said.

Three seconds later, the surprisingly clear voice of Lieutenant General Bruce J. McNab came over loudspeakers Castillo could not see. "Now what, Vic?"

"Fellow here wants to talk to you," D'Alessandro said and gestured to Castillo.

"It's Charley, General," Castillo said.

Three seconds later, McNab asked, "As in Castillo, that Charley?"

"Yes, sir."

"You've always had a talent for showing up at the worst possible time. What's on your mind?"

"I know what you were looking for, sir, and that it's no longer there."

"Who the hell told you that?"

"It was my intel that set the wheels turning."

"Okay. So what?"

"My boss sent me here, sir, to both get your report:"

"I already gave my so-far report to your Uncle Allan. You're talking about Secretary Hall?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excuse me, sir," Captain Brewster said. "It was Dr. Cohen, the national security advisor, who telephoned General Gonzalez and said you were coming here at the personal order of the president."

The delay was just perceptibly a little longer before McNab's reply came.

"That sounded like Brewster. Is your boss there, too?"

"No, sir. He's in his quarters."

"That figures. He's got you babysitting Castillo?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, Charley, what do you want?"

"I think we may soon know where the airplane is, sir, and I'd like to discuss with you plans to deal with it."

"You're in on my schedule? Won't that wait until I'm back?"

"Yes, sir. Of course. But there's something else."

"Like what?"

"I need three radios like these and people to operate them."

"Jesus Christ, Charley, you of all people should know how scarce they are!"

"One for my boss, one for Dick Miller, who's in Philadelphia, and one for me."

"What's Miller-I thought he was in Angola or some other hellhole-doing in Philadelphia?"

"Sir, we think the intention is to crash that airplane into the Liberty Bell. Miller's been working with the cops to come up with a connection. A little while ago, he told me he had found connections. He couldn't tell me what over cellular phone. We need secure commo."

The delay before McNab replied now was conspicuous.

"Where the hell am I? In the twilight zone? The Liberty Bell?"

"Yes, sir. What I would like to do is take a radio to Miller-and to my boss-so they have them up by the time you get back here."

"You've got a plane to do that?"

"Yes, sir," Charley said. "Or I'm pretty sure I will have."

"Just 'pretty sure'?"

"Yes, sir."

"You want me to call Naylor and make sure you have an airplane?"

"I don't think that will be necessary, sir."

"Okay, Charley. I know how close you and the Old Fart are, so this probably isn't necessary, but I left a lieutenant colonel named Fortinot minding the store; you better find him and bring him up to speed on this."

"Yes, sir, I will."

"Okay. I'll be in touch. I have to get wheels-up now. Snoopy-Six out."

The captain said, "Secure voice gone to standby."

D'Alessandro asked, incredulously, "These rag-head bastards are going to try to crash this airplane into the Liberty Bell? What the fuck is that all about?"

"I don't know, Vic," Castillo admitted.

His cell phone tinkled and he pulled it from his pocket.

"Yeah?"

"My toy, against my better judgment, will be wheels-up in about ninety seconds," Fernando Lopez announced.

"Thank you."

"Maria's really pissed," Fernando said. "And I mean really pissed."

"I'm sorry," Castillo said.

The line went dead.

"I guess you missed the sign on your way in, Charley," D'Alessandro said.

"What?"

"The sign that says, 'THE USE, OR POSSESSION, OF PERSONAL CELLULAR