what I’ve seen, Charley, you handle the authority you’ve been given very well.”
“I’m so drunk with my authority that it never even entered my mind to ask you what you thought about what I’m going to do. Which means I just about blew the investigation into the oil-for-food scandal out of the water, and embarrassed the President personally. That doesn’t strike me as handling my authority well.”
Silvio studied Castillo for a long moment, then asked, “How much sleep have you had in the past few days?”
“It shows, huh?”
“It shows. If you really want my advice, get yourself some rest.”
Castillo considered that, took a sip of his beer, then asked, “Can you recommend a quiet hotel near the airport in Montevideo?”
“As a matter of fact, I can. The airport’s in Carrasco. There’s a really nice hotel in Carrasco. The Belmont House. A little stiff on the pocketbook. But I was thinking you might get some rest today.”
“So was I, sir. You think I could get a couple of rooms there for tonight? For two days? How would I get the number to call? I really don’t want a record of me booking it through American Express.”
Ambassador Silvio reached into the pocket of his frayed blue jeans, took out his telephone, and punched the appropriate buttons.
“Juan Manuel Silvio here,” he said a moment later. “Please tell me that you’ll be able to accommodate two friends of mine—separate rooms—for tonight and tomorrow night.”
Thirty seconds later, he returned the cellular to his blue jeans.
“Done.”
“Thank you very much.”
“My pleasure. Anything else I can do?”
“Let me see if I can at least do this by myself,” Castillo said, and took out his cellular and punched the appropriate buttons.
“I’m glad I caught you, Yung,” he began.
“I’d offer to drive you to the airport,” Ambassador Silvio said, “but I don’t think that would be a very good idea inasmuch as I suspect there’s a good many people in uniforms looking for a man in a Harvard sweatshirt and blue jeans.”
Castillo smiled at him and chuckled.
“I meant what I said before about you keeping me from making a royal ass of myself, and more important, making the President look like one. Muchas gracias, amigo.”
Silvio made a deprecating gesture with his hand.
“What time’s your plane?” he asked. “Or are you taking the Lear? Or shouldn’t I ask?”
“You can ask me anything you want to,” Castillo said. “And I’ll tell you everything I think I can.”
“Okay. I will. How are things going so far? Just generally, if details may be inappropriate.”
“The first thing that can go wrong with this operation is that when I get to Jorge Newbery at five o’clock, a helicopter I borrowed won’t be there. Or it will be there and the man in it will shoot me. Or if it’s there and he doesn’t shoot me, it will be equipped with a pressure-sensitive detonator and a couple of pounds of Semtex, which will go bang when I pass through one thousand feet. Or if that doesn’t happen, the engine will quit when I am equidistant over the Rio Plate between Jorge Newbery and Corrasco. Aside from that, everything’s going swimmingly.”
Silvio shook his head.
“That’s today. The list of what can go wrong tomorrow is a little longer,” Castillo said.
“You will be in my prayers, Charley,” Silvio said softly.
Castillo nodded at him.
“I’d love another beer, but I’m driving,” Charley said. “But there’s no reason you can’t.”
[FOUR]
Belmont House 6512 Avenue Rivera Carrasco Carrasco, Montevideo República Oriental del Uruguay 1925 29 July 2005
“Nice place,” Castillo said as they stood at the reception desk of the small, luxurious hotel. “Looks more like a club than a hotel.”
“Fidel Castro thinks so,” El Coronel Alfredro Munz (Retired) said with a smile. “This is where he always stays when he’s in Uruguay.”
“If you would like a drink, gentlemen,” the desk clerk said as he returned Castillo’s passport and American Express card and Munz’s National Identity Card and handed them keys to their rooms, “I’ll have the bellman take your bags to your rooms.”
He gestured toward the interior of the building. Castillo saw a small, wood-paneled bar with leather-upholstered chairs at small tables.
“I think that’s a splendid idea,” Castillo said. “I’m expecting a visitor at seven-thirty. A Mr. Yung. Would you point him toward us, please?”
“Certainly, sir.”
Castillo walked into the bar and sat at one of the tables. Munz followed him but did not sit down.
“Will I be in the way, Karl?” Munz asked.
“Does ‘in for a penny, in for a pound’ mean the same thing