The Outlaws_ A Presidential Agent Novel Part 53

He demanded: "Who are you?"

"My name is David W. Yung, Jr. I am Mrs. Darby's attorney."

"And you're refusing to let us in?"

"That is correct," Two-Gun Yung said. "Unless you have a search warrant, I am on behalf of my client denying you access to these premises."

"We're the Secret Service!" Special Agent Foster announced.

"So Mr. McGuire has said," Two-Gun said. "We are now going to close the door, as all the cold is getting in the house."

"We'll be back with a search warrant!" a.s.sistant Secretary Andrews announced as the door closed in his face.

"I don't believe that!" a.s.sistant Secretary Andrews said in the front seat of the Yukon. He mopped at the melting snow on his bald spot with a handkerchief. "Absolutely incredible! We should have just pushed that little j.a.p out of the way and grabbed Darby."

"Unfortunately, Mr. Secretary, the lawyer was right. Without a search warrant, we have no right to enter those premises," McGuire said.

"Well, we'll get a G.o.dd.a.m.ned search warrant! Where does one get a G.o.dd.a.m.ned search warrant at ..." He looked at his watch. "Quarter after seven in the morning?"

"That may be difficult, Mr. Secretary," McGuire said. "In order to get a search warrant, you have to convince a judge that you have good and sufficient reason to believe that illegal activity is taking place on a certain premises, or that a fugitive is evading due process of law-in other words, arrest-on said premises."

"G.o.dd.a.m.n it, we know that Darby is in there! We know he entered the country in Miami and flew here, and your own G.o.dd.a.m.ned agents reported they saw him entering that house. What else do we need, for Christ's sake?"

"Sir, we have no reason to believe that any activity violating federal law is taking place in the house. And Mr. Darby is not a fugitive; no warrants have been issued for his arrest on any charge."

"You're telling me there's not a G.o.dd.a.m.ned thing we can do? I don't believe this."

"Sir, what I hoped would happen when we came here was that Mrs. Darby, or perhaps Mr. Darby himself-we've been friends for years-would invite us into the house and we could discuss the location of Colonel Castillo amicably. If you want to, I can have another shot at that."

"Jesus Christ!"

"Other than that, sir, I don't know what else to tell you."

"Just stand there in the door, please, Mr. Secretary," Two-Gun Yung said ten minutes later.

There were now two photographers inside the house, the woman who had used the photographing capability of her cellular telephone earlier, and a man now holding what looked like a professional-grade video camera.

Andrews stood in the door.

"Ready, Harold?" Two-Gun asked.

"Lights, action, camera!" Harold replied, intentionally botching the sequence.

"Mr. Secretary, please identify yourself and give us the date and time."

Andrews complied.

"Now, repeat after me, please: 'I make the following statement voluntarily and without mental reservation of any kind.'"

Andrews did so.

"I acknowledge that I have informed Mrs. Julia Darby that by allowing me and Mr. McGuire of the Secret Service into her home, a compa.s.sionate gesture to get us out of the cold and snow, she in no way gives up her rights against unlawful search and seizure as provided by the U.S. Const.i.tution-"

"Go slowly," Andrews interrupted. "I can't remember all that."

"We'll try it again. 'I acknowledge that I ...'"

"'. . . and further that anything said in conversation by anyone here today will not be used in any court of law for any purpose,'" Two-Gun finally concluded.

With some obvious effort, Andrews repeated that.

"Is that it, Counselor?" Mrs. Darby then asked.

"It will be as soon as Harold sends a copy of that digital recording to that great file room in the sky," Two-Gun replied.

"Consider it done," Harold replied.

"Why don't we all go in the living room and have a cup of coffee while Dianne makes breakfast?" Julia Darby suggested.

[image]

"h.e.l.lo, Tom," Alex Darby said, putting out his hand. "Long time no see."

"How are you, Alex?" McGuire replied. "Alex, this is my boss, a.s.sistant Secretary of Homeland Security Mason Andrews."

"How do you do?" Darby said.

"You're a hard man to find, Mr. Darby."

"I guess that would depend on who's looking for me," Darby said.

"A lot of people are looking for you, including Amba.s.sador Montvale."

"Whatever would make Amba.s.sador Montvale look for me?"

"The President of the United States sent him to find you, Mr. Darby. Right now, he's in Ushuaia."

"Whatever for? I mean, why is he looking for me in Ushuaia, of all places?"

"Oh, Tom," Julia Darby said. "I was kidding you about that."

"Kidding him about what?" Darby asked his wife.

"I told him you were probably down there with your girlfriend," Julia said. "I never for a moment thought he would take me seriously. Especially the girlfriend part."

Darby looked at McGuire. "Yeah, I'm a little long in the tooth for that sort of thing, Tom."

Mason Andrews said, "There is reason to believe that you know where Colonel Dmitri Berezovsky, Lieutenant Colonel Svetlana Alekseeva, and Lieutenant Colonel Carlos G. Castillo are."

"As I think you know, Mr. Andrews," Darby replied, "Colonel Castillo was ordered by the President-the late President, not Mr. Clendennen-to fall off the face of the earth and never be seen again. I believe that Colonel Castillo is obeying those orders."

"You're telling me you don't know where he is-where the Russians are?"

"I didn't say that. What I said was that I believe Colonel Castillo has obeyed the order from the President to disappear."

"Then you do know where he is? Where the Russian defectors are?"

"I didn't say that, either."

"Are you aware that it's a felony, Mr. Darby, to lie to, or mislead, a federal officer?"

"Mr. Andrews, a point of order," Two-Gun said. "One, right now, you're not a federal officer, but rather simply someone whom Mrs. Darby has compa.s.sionately allowed to warm himself in her house. Two, if Mr. Darby were ever to be interviewed by any federal officer, he would, on advice of counsel, refuse to answer any questions put to him that either might tend to incriminate him, or cause him to violate any of the several oaths he took as an officer of the Clandestine Service of the CIA to never divulge in his lifetime anything he learned in the performance of those duties."

Mason Andrews looked between Two-Gun and the Darbys, then announced, "I can see that I'm wasting my time here. Let's go, McGuire."

"But you haven't had any breakfast," Julia Darby said. "Dianne's making a Spanish omelet."

"And breakfast is the most important meal of the day," Two-Gun offered. "Haven't you heard that, Mr. Secretary?"

Andrews glared at him but didn't respond.

"And one more thing, Mr. Andrews," Two-Gun said. "Those Secret Service agents of yours who have been watching the house?"

"What about them?"

"The right of a governmental agency to surveille does not carry with it any right to trespa.s.s. The next time I see one of them on this property, I'm going to call the Alexandria police and charge them with trespa.s.s. And if they are indeed Secret Service agents, since you and I have had this little chat, that would const.i.tute trespa.s.s after warning, which is a felony."

Andrews, his face white, marched toward the front door, calling over his shoulder, "G.o.dd.a.m.n it, McGuire, I said let's go."

In the Yukon, Andrews slammed the door shut and turned to McGuire.

"As of this minute, McGuire, you're placed on administrative leave. It is my intention to have you separated from the Secret Service and I think you know why."

"I haven't a clue, Mr. Secretary."

"G.o.dd.a.m.n it! Whose side are you on, anyway? You enjoyed watching those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds humiliate me."

"Mr. Secretary, I took an oath to defend the Const.i.tution against all enemies foreign and domestic. I have done so to the best of my ability."

"Sending the director of National Intelligence on a wild-goose chase to Ushuaia is your idea of defending the Const.i.tution? Jesus H. Christ!"

"I told Amba.s.sador Montvale that Mrs. Darby said Mr. Darby might be there. That's all."

"You'd better be prepared to tell a grand jury that Mrs. Darby did just that. Lying to or making a misrepresentation to a federal officer is a felony. Your pal is going to jail, McGuire, and if I can figure out some way to get you before a grand jury for lying to Amba.s.sador Montvale, I will."

"Oh, come on, Andrews. You know Montvale almost as well as I do. Can you really imagine the Great Charles M. getting up in a courtroom and testifying under oath that one of his underlings sent him on a wild-goose chase anywhere? Much less all the way to the bottom of the world? And that doesn't even touch on the question of who he was looking for and why."

Secretary Andrews considered that for thirty seconds.

"Get out of the car, you sonofab.i.t.c.h! Walk back to Washington!"

McGuire got out of the Yukon.

But instead of walking back to Washington, he went to the door of the house, rang the bell, and when the lady of the house answered, asked if there was any Spanish omelet left to feed someone who had just lost his job.

[THREE].

Office of the Commanding General United States Army Central Command MacDill Air Force Base Tampa, Florida 0730 9 February 2007

"General, General McNab is here," Colonel J. D. Brewer announced at Naylor's office door.

"Ask the general to come in, please," Naylor said.

McNab marched into the office, stopped six feet from Naylor's desk, raised his right hand to his temple, and said, "Good morning, General. Thank you for receiving me."

McNab was wearing what was officially the Army Service Uniform but was commonly referred to as "dress blues." The breast of his tunic was heavy with ribbons and devices showing his military qualifications, including a Combat Infantry Badge topped with circled stars indicating that it was the sixth award; a Master Parachutist's wings; seven other parachute wings from various foreign armies; and the Navy SEAL qualification badge, commonly called "The Budweiser." The three silver stars of a lieutenant general gleamed on his epaulets.

Naylor was wearing a camouflage-patterned sandy-colored baggy uniform called Desert Battle Dress Uniform. On it was sewn the insignia of Central Command, the legend US ARMY, a name tag reading NAYLOR, and, attached with Velcro to the b.u.t.ton line of his jacket, a strip with four embroidered black (called "subdued") stars, the insignia of his rank.

Naylor took his time before returning the salute, and after McNab had dropped his hand, took his time again before saying, "You may stand at ease, General. Please take a seat."

"Thank you, sir," McNab said as he settled into one of the two leather armchairs before the desk. "I trust the general is well?"

"Just so we understand one another, General, there was an implication you made just now that you were invited here. You were ordered here. There is a difference I think you should keep in mind."

"Yes, sir. Permission to speak, General?"