"Sir, this is Sergeant Lefler at Pope base ops. I have a gentleman here who doesn't have any identification but says he's a Major Castillo and that you expect him."

Fifteen seconds later, after repeating Castillo's name, the sergeant almost triumphantly turned to Castillo and said, "They never heard of you, sir."

"Let me talk to him, please," Charley said.

The sergeant didn't reply, instead dialing a number from memory.

"Sir, I hate to bother you," he said a moment later, "but I think you better come down here. We may have an attempted breach of security."

A moment later, he added, "No, sir. Not to worry," and then hung up.

"Sir, would you please have a seat over there?" he said to Charley, pointing to a row of chrome-and-plastic chairs.

"What's going on, Sergeant?"

"Sir, the Airdrome Officer of the Day is on his way here. He will answer any questions you might have. Please take a seat, sir."

The sergeant rested his hand on the holster hanging from his pistol belt.

What the hell is going on here?

They don't expect me?

Charley walked to the row of chairs and sat down.

Fuck it, I'll give him something to talk about.

"Sergeant, could I walk over there and get into my briefcase, please?"

"You just sit right there, please, sir," the sergeant replied. "You can talk about your briefcase to the major when he gets here, sir."

The telephone on the desk rang. Without taking his eyes from Castillo, the sergeant answered it.

"Pope base operations, Sergeant Lefler speaking, sir "Sir, the AOD is not here at the moment "He should be here in a couple of minutes, sir. Would you like to call back? "Sir, there already has been a civilian Citation in here. It just left "Yes, sir. A man did get off. He doesn't have any identification, sir, but he says he's a major "I don't think I'd better do that, sir, until the AOD gets here. He may let you talk to him "No, sir, I don't know who I'm talking to. You didn't give me your name."

The sergeant looked stricken at the response he was given.

An Air Force major, a pilot, wearing the brassard of an Airdrome Officer of the Day, came into the area.

Charley suspected the Airdrome Officer of the Day had been catching a few winks on a cot somewhere near.

"What's going on, Sergeant?" he asked.

"Sir, I think you better take this," the sergeant said, extending the telephone to him. "It's the deputy commander of Eighteenth Airborne Corps."

The major took the telephone.

"This is Major Treward, sir. The AOD. How may I help you, sir?"

The major looked at Castillo.

"Excuse me, sir, are you the special assistant to the secretary of homeland security?"

Castillo nodded.

"Yes, sir, he's right here," the major said and extended the telephone to Castillo.

"Sir," Sergeant Lefler said, "he told me he was an Army major."

"This is Major Castillo, sir," Charley said into the telephone.

"See, he just did it again, sir," Sergeant Lefler told the AOD.

"That's me, too, sir," Charley said into the phone. "I'm assigned to Homeland Security "Yes, sir. I just arrived here on the secretary's plane. My orders are to report to General McNab."

"He wouldn't show me any orders, either, Major," Sergeant Lefler said. "I asked."

"Yes, sir. I'll be here," Charley said into the telephone. "Thank you, sir."

He handed the telephone to the Air Force major. "The general is coming to pick me up."

"Sir, the Security SOP says nobody leaves the building without proper identification," Sergeant Lefler announced.

The major looked at him but didn't respond.

"What I'd like to know is how a civilian aircraft landed here without special permission and why I wasn't told it had," he said to the desk sergeant.

"The pilot filed his flight plan as Secret Service One," Charley offered. "That gets him clearance to land just about any place he wants to."

"Are you in the Secret Service?" the major asked.

Actually, I'm a supervisory agent of the Secret Service. Wanna see my badge?

Charley chuckled. It was almost a giggle.

"I say something funny?"

"No. All I am, Major, is another major."

Major General H. V. Gonzalez, who was about five-foot-five, olive-skinned, weighed no more than 130 pounds, and looked meaner than hell, marched purposefully into base operations ten minutes later, trailed by his aide and a full colonel, both of whom were well over six feet tall. They were all wearing desert camouflage battle dress uniforms (BDUs).

The deputy commander of XVIII Airborne Corps glanced around the room and then marched to where Castillo was sitting. Charley got up quickly as he approached.

"You're Castillo?"

"Yes, sir."

General Gonzalez switched to Spanish.

"The name Elaine Naylor mean anything to you?"

"Si, senor."

"And what's her husband's first name?"

"Allan, senor."

"But we are not privileged to call him by his first name, are we?"

"I'm not, sir."

"General Naylor tells me you're a Tex-Mex from San Antone who speaks pretty good Spanish and works for the secretary of homeland security and that he doesn't have a clue why Dr. Natalie Cohen called me up to tell me the president was sending you here. That about sum things up?"

"Si, senor."

"Harry," the general said, switching to English to speak to his aide. "Help Major Castillo with his bags."

There was a powder blue Plymouth Caravan parked outside the base operations building.

"You ride up front with me," General Gonzalez ordered, in Spanish, as he got behind the wheel.

" Si, senor," Charley replied.

"What was that Chinese fire drill back there all about?" Gonzalez asked.

"My fault, sir. I asked the sergeant to call SWC to get me a ride. They'd never heard of me. And then I couldn't come up with my Army

"Why did you call the SWC? Didn't they tell you General McNab is the Eighteenth Airborne Corps commander?"

"Unless stupidity is an excuse, sir, no excuse. When General McNab was deputy commander of SWC, I was his aide. I called there. Not bright."

"Oh, so you know General McNab?"

"Yes, sir. Sir, where is he?"

"I don't think you have the need to know that."

"Sir, knowing General McNab as I do, I'm guessing he's as close to the Gray Fox operation at Abeche as he can get."

"I'd love to know how you heard about Abeche," General Gonzalez said. "Most of the people at Bragg who know about it are in the backseat."

"Sir, the operation was to confirm intel I developed."

"And?"

"If you're asking, sir, was it confirmed? Yes, sir, it was. The missing airplane was there but has gone."

"Okay. If you know that much, you're in the loop. General McNab is in Menara, Morocco, with some more Gray Fox people standing by with a C-17 in case anything goes wrong with the extraction, which is scheduled for first light. As soon as he hears it's wheels-up, he and the backup team will return here in their C-17. It's about a five-hour flight."

"Thank you, sir."

"The problem I have right now is, what to do with you."

"Sir?"

"Until I talked to General Naylor twenty minutes ago, I expected some civilian VIP. The lights in the windows of the VIP guesthouse are burning for you, Major Castillo."

"How about dropping me at a Smoke Bomb Hill BOQ, sir?"

"No. The last thing we need is another Chinese fire drill when you can't produce an ID card. We'll take you to the VIP guesthouse. Just don't tell anyone you're a major."

"Yes, sir."

The general drove through Fort Bragg for several minutes before saying anything else; then he said: