The Outlaws_ A Presidential Agent Novel Part 47

And when he was told, he didn't think it was at all funny.

The chief of staff was going to hear about it, Naylor had said, and he wasn't going to find any humor in it.

And then he'd had an even more disquieting thought. He didn't like C. Harry Whelan, Jr., but it was possible that he was right about this, too. It seemed to be a truism that whoever commanded the most troops was de facto de facto, if not de jure de jure, the most important general officer.

The President asked, "Would you agree with that a.s.sessment, General?"

"Sir, since the chief of staff gives me my orders and writes my efficiency reports-"

"Well, this is one of those rare occasions on which I fully agree with Mr. Whelan," the President said. And then went on: "Does the name 'Sergei Murov' mean anything to you, General?"

"The SVR rezident rezident in the Russian emba.s.sy, sir?" in the Russian emba.s.sy, sir?"

The President nodded. "And I believe you know Frank Lammelle, the deputy director of the CIA, pretty well?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

"Mr. Powell, will you please tell General Naylor of the meeting Lammelle had with Murov in the Russian compound on the Eastern Sh.o.r.e?"

"Yes, sir," Powell said, and did so.

When Powell had finished, Naylor said, "Very interesting."

"I have never liked traitors," the President then announced, more than a little piously. "And so I have decided to give the Russians these two. What are their names again, Jack?"

"Colonel Dmitri Berezovsky and Lieutenant Colonel Svetlana Alekseeva, Mr. President," the CIA director furnished.

"Mr. President, do we have them?" Naylor asked. "I was under the impression that-"

"That Lieutenant Colonel C. G. Castillo," the President said, "who s.n.a.t.c.hed them away from our CIA station chief in Vienna, has them?"

"Yes, sir."

"I understand, General, that you are personally acquainted with Lieutenant Colonel Castillo."

"Yes, sir, I am."

During the Cold War, there had been a custom in the regiments of the United States Constabulary in occupied West Germany called the "Dining In." Once a month, the officers of the regiments met for dinner in their regimental officer's club. These were formal affairs, ones presided over by the regimental commander, with seating at the one large table arranged strictly according to rank. Dress uniform was prescribed. Officers' ladies were not invited.

A splendid meal was served, with appropriate wines at each course. After the food had been consumed, and the cigars and cognac distributed, one of the officers-in a rigidly ch.o.r.eographed ritual-rose to his feet, and said, "Gentlemen, I give you the President of the United States."

Whereupon all the other officers rose to their feet and raised their gla.s.ses in toast.

The toasting then worked its way down the chain of command until it had reached the regimental commander.

And then the officers got down to some serious informal drinking and socializing, the intention of which was to raise the awareness of officers-particularly officers just reporting for duty-of their role in the Army, the Army of Occupation, the United States Constabulary, and their regiment.

It was at his first Dining In that newly arrived Major Allan B. Naylor, Armor, had first heard about the Gossinger family. The event had been held at the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment Officer's Club in Bad Hersfeld, which was in Hesse, very close to the border between West Germany and East Germany.

The 11th ACR-"The Blackhorse Regiment"-had the mission of patrolling the border between East and West Germany. Their patrols ran through the Gossinger family's farmlands, which had been cut by the barbed-wire fence and the minefields erected by East Germans at Soviet direction to separate the East and West Germanys. Most of the Gossinger farmlands had wound up in East Germany.

By the time the story of the princess in Castle Gossinger came up, both alcohol and tradition had eased much of the formality of the Dining In. It was now time to tell war stories and other kinds of stories, the idea being more to entertain those who had not heard them than to present an absolutely truthful version of the facts.

For example, the story went that the barbed-wire fence and the minefields had been erected to keep Americans and West Germans from escaping into the Heaven on Earth of the Communist world.

As far as the Gossinger castle was concerned, the good news was that the Gossinger family-the full family name, identifying them as highly ranked in the Almanach de Gotha Almanach de Gotha, was "von und zu Gossinger"-had lucked out: After the fence had gone up, their castle was in West Germany.

The bad news was that the Gossinger castle didn't look at all like Neuschwanstein Castle, the one built-d.a.m.n the expense-by Mad King Ludwig in Bavaria. It instead more resembled a tractor factory.

The good news was that there was a fair princess living in the castle who loved Americans.

The bad news was that her loving of Americans was past tense. She had loved one American. He had ridden up to the castle on his white horse-actually flying a Bell WH-1D "Huey"-dallied awhile, left her in the family way, and disappeared, never to return. Nor to be heard from again.

More bad news was that her daddy-formerly Oberst Hermann Wilhelm von und zu Gossinger, who had been one of the last seriously wounded evacuated before von Paulus had surrendered at Stalingrad-did not like Americans. This was possibly because of the American chopper jockey's relationship with the princess. He had made it clear that any contact with Americans would be rare and brief.

Shortly after the Dining In, Major Naylor had been taken to the castle-formally known as Das Haus im Wald-by the Blackhorse's commander, Colonel Frederick l.u.s.trous, and there introduced to former Oberst Hermann Wilhelm von und zu Gossinger, who received them courteously but rather coldly in his office.

Naylor had obeyed l.u.s.trous's order: "Allan, look closely at the pictures on the shelf behind his desk" as l.u.s.trous explained to Herr von und zu Gossinger that as the Regiment's S-3, Naylor would be dealing with the von und zu Gossingers for the regiment.

Major Naylor was surprised at what he saw on the shelf. There was a photo of General George S. Patton standing with his arm around von und zu Gossinger's shoulder. The third man in the photo Naylor recognized after a moment as Colonel John Waters, Patton's son-in-law, who had been captured in North Africa. Patton and Waters were splendidly turned out, while "Von und Zu"-as Naylor had quickly come to think of the starchy German-was in a tattered suit.

The picture had obviously been taken immediately after the war, probably just after Waters had been freed and just before Patton had died of injuries suffered in a car/truck accident in Heidelberg. And, judging by the way Oberst von und zu Gossinger was dressed, not long at all after he had been released from a POW camp and taken off his uniform for the last time.

But the photograph clearly made the point that Von und Zu had some powerful American friends. Waters was now a general officer.

Naylor got his first look at the princess-Frau Erika von und zu Gossinger-that first visit to the castle, but they were not introduced. She was a slim young woman in a black dress, her blonde hair gathered in a bun at her neck, and had been with her son, a towheaded ten- or eleven-year-old.

At the time, Naylor decided that while the story of the princess getting herself knocked up by some American chopper jockey made a great Dining In story, it was probably pure bulls.h.i.t.

Over the next two years, he became more sure of that as he developed a personal relationship with the princess. Or, more accurately, as his bride, Elaine, and Erika became friends, as did the boy and Allan Junior, who was a year younger than Karl Wilhelm von und zu Gossinger.

The two women became much closer about a year later, after Von und Zu and his son went off a bridge on the Autobahn near Ka.s.sel in their Mercedes at a speed estimated by the authorities at one hundred ninety kilometers per hour (one hundred eighteen miles per hour), which left the princess and her son not only alone in the castle but the sole owners of Gossinger Beteiligungsgesellschaft, G.m.b.H.

By that time Major Naylor had learned the Gossinger a.s.sets went far beyond the farmlands now split by the barbed-wire fence and minefields. There were seven newspapers all over Europe, two breweries, a shipyard, and other businesses.

At the funeral of Erika's father and brother, Allan had told Elaine that he thought Erika would now be pushed into marrying Otto Gorner, managing director of the Gossinger Beteiligungsgesellschaft, G.m.b.H., empire, who he knew had made his intentions of such known a long time ago, and who had enjoyed the blessing of the late Oberst von und zu Gossinger.

Elaine had told him that Erika had told her she would never marry-Otto or anyone else.

And she hadn't.

Six months after the funeral, Elaine, white-faced, showed up at Naylor's office-something she almost never did-and announced she had to talk to him right then.

"The best of the bad news is that scurrilous story about Karl being the love child of one of our overs.e.xed G.o.dd.a.m.n chopper jockeys is true," Elaine had reported, and handed him a slip of paper. "That's his name."

On the paper she had written, "WOJG Jorge Castillo, San Antonio, Texas."

"What am I supposed to do with this?" he'd said.

"Find him."

"After all this time? Why?"

"The worst of the really bad news, sweetheart, is that Erika has maybe a month, maybe six weeks, to live. She's kept her pancreatic cancer a secret."

"My G.o.d!"

"Very shortly, that Tex-Mex sonofab.i.t.c.h is going to be Karl's only living relative. Find him, Allan."

As any wise major destined for high command would do when faced with a problem that he didn't have a clue how to solve, Naylor turned to the Blackhorse's sergeant major. It took the wise old noncom not even thirty minutes to locate Warrant Officer Junior Grade Jorge Alejandro Castillo. He had remembered the name from somewhere, and then he had remembered where.

The sergeant major handed Major Naylor a book ent.i.tled Vietnam War Recipients of the Medal of Honor Vietnam War Recipients of the Medal of Honor.

WOJG Jorge Castillo was in San Antonio, in the Fort Sam Houston National Cemetery. His tombstone bore a finely chiseled representation of the Medal of Honor and dates that indicated he had been nineteen years old at the time of his death.

That presented problems for Naylor and the Army that were difficult to express without sounding like a three-star sonofab.i.t.c.h. But they had to be, as Karl Wilhelm von und zu Gossinger was about to become a very wealthy twelve-year-old. And all of that money was now going to come under the control of some Mexican-Americans in Texas who probably didn't even know he existed.

The Army tries to take care of its own. This is especially true when the person needing help is the only son of a killed-in-action officer whose incredible courage in the face of death earned him the nation's most prestigious medal for valor.

The problem went up the chain of command. Senior officers of the Judge Advocate General's Corps were directed to find ways to save the boy's inheritance from squander by his new family.

Naylor was flown to San Antonio to "reconnoiter the situation" two days after Elaine had walked into his office with the bad news. The commanding general V U.S. Corps telephoned the commanding general of the Fifth United States Army at Fort Sam Houston, and told him Naylor was coming and why.

That officer quickly informed Naylor that the problem was not that the Castillo family was going to squander the inheritance-they owned square blocks of downtown San Antonio, and a great deal else, and didn't need anyone else's money.

Naylor's-and the Army's-problem was going to be to convince them that the boy's mother was not some fraulein of loose morality trying to dump someone else's b.a.s.t.a.r.d on them to get her hands into the Castillo cashbox.

Naylor found Dona Alicia Castillo at her office near the Alamo.

When she telephoned her husband, who was in New York City on business, to tell him she had just been told that their only son had left behind a son in Germany, he begged her to take things very slowly, and to do nothing until he could return to Texas and look into it himself.

"He has Jorge's eyes," Dona Alicia had said, and hung up.

Juan Fernando Castillo caught the next flight he could get on to Texas. It took him to Dallas, not San Antonio, but that wasn't going to pose a problem. He had called Lemes Aviation and told them to have the Lear waiting for him in Dallas for the final leg to San Antonio.

When he got to Dallas, however, the Lear wasn't there. When he called Lemes Aviation, he was told that Dona Alicia had taken the jet to New York, so that she and some Army officer could make the five-fifteen Pan American flight to Frankfurt.

Within twenty-four hours of meeting Dona Alicia Castillo, Allan and Elaine Naylor stood in the corridor outside Erika von und zu Gossinger's room in the castle and overheard Dona Alicia say, "I'm Jorge's mother, my dear. I'm here to take care of you and the boy."

Juan Fernando Castillo arrived in Germany ten hours after his wife.

A week later-Erika having decided she didn't want the boy to see her in the final stages of her illness-Naylor and Elaine and Allan Junior had shaken hands and hugged the boy, who now carried an American pa.s.sport in the name of Carlos Guillermo Castillo and was preparing to board a Pan American 747 airliner bound for New York.

"You don't happen to know where your friend Lieutenant Colonel Castillo is, do you, General?" President Clendennen asked.

"No, sir, I do not."

"Well, I've got a mission for you, General. I want you-as your highest priority-to find Lieutenant Colonel Castillo, wherever he might be, whereupon you will personally hand him orders recalling him from retirement to active duty. You will then personally order him to turn these Russian traitors over to the CIA. And when he has done so, then I want you to place Castillo under arrest, pending investigation of charges that may be laid against him under the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Do you understand these orders?"

Allan Naylor stood stonefaced, and thought: G.o.dd.a.m.n you to h.e.l.l, Bruce McNab! G.o.dd.a.m.n you to h.e.l.l, Bruce McNab!

He then said: "May I ask questions, sir?"

The President wiggled his fingers, granting permission.

"Sir, what is my authority to detain or arrest the Russians?"

"That won't pose a problem for you, General. Mr. Lammelle will deal with that."

"Sir, I don't understand."

"From right now-or at least from as soon as Mr. Lammelle can get here from Langley-until this mission has been accomplished, you and Lammelle will be, so to speak, joined at the hip. I wouldn't think, General, of asking you or the Army to do anything that would const.i.tute a violation of any law. Nor would I ask that Mr. Lammelle or the CIA violate any laws. Having said that, we all know that the agency has a certain lat.i.tude in the gray areas, and I will personally accept full responsibility for any action that Mr. Lammelle feels he should take to carry out the desires of the commander in chief in this matter. Does that answer your question, General Naylor?"

"Yes, sir."

"How soon can you start on this, General?"

"Sir, I'll have to set up things at MacDill so that I can devote my full time to this. So, as soon as Mr. Lammelle gets here, I'll go there."

"Jack," the President said to the DCI, "Lammelle has a radio in his car, right? Why don't you get on the horn and tell him to meet the general at Andrews? There's no reason he actually has to come here."

"Yes, sir."

"Good hunting, General," the President said. "I don't think I have to tell you to keep me posted, do I?"

"No, sir."

[TWO].

Office of the Commanding General United States Army Central Command MacDill Air Force Base Tampa, Florida 1710 8 February 2007

By the time of the First Desert War, Allan Naylor was a well-respected major general, obviously destined for greater responsibility and the rank that would come with it. He had been selected to be General H. Norman Schwarzkopf's J-3, the Joint Staff's operations officer.

It was the J-3's responsibility to know what a.s.sets-usually meaning which units-were available to his general, and lists were prepared and updated daily that showed the names of the units and of their commanding officers.