“He understands their thinking, sir,” Lunsford said. “I wish my guys had been here.”
The door opened and CWO Finton came in.
“Good morning, sir,” he said to Felter, then nodded at the others and added, “Gentlemen.”
“Breakfast is on the way, Jim,” Felter said. “And I heard Lieutenant Craig tell them to send an extra order of steak and eggs.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, Lieutenant, I haven’t had any breakfast.” He paused and looked at Felter. “Sir, if you think I would be useful in the Congo, I am prepared to go.”
"Thank God,” Felter said, and then heard what he had said. “I know you know I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
"I like to think I know you very well, Colonel,” Finton said. “I took no offense.”
“Lieutenant Portet just made the point that if we can get Mobutu’s cooperation, things will be a lot easier for us. To infiltrate the team, for one thing.”
“There’s already a problem there,” Finton said. “An immediate problem. Mary Margaret tells me the Congolese Embassy is being difficult about issuing visas.”
“Did she say why?” Felter asked.
“She suspects it is an expression of unhappiness with our ambassador, sir.”
“Slip the Congolese Consular officer a hundred bucks,” Jack said. “That usually speeds things up miraculously.”
“How many visas do you need?” Captain Portet asked.
Felter looked around the room and counted with his finger. “Five,” he said. “You and Jacques, Father, Jim, and me. I don’t want to enter the Congo on an accredited to U.S. Embassy basis unless I have to.”
“Jack and I have Congolese passports,” Captain Portet said. “I think I can get visas for you and Father and Mr. Finton. When do you have to have them?”
“As soon as possible,” Felter said.
“Well, can I suggest that as soon as we finish breakfast, we go over there? To the Congolese Embassy?”
[ TWO ]
Chancellery of the Embassy of the Republic of the Congo
Washington, D.C.
0945 12 January 1965
The receptionist of the embassy was a tall, stunning Negro woman in her late twenties.
“Good morning, my darling,” Captain Jean-Phillipe Portet greeted her in Swahili, smiling broadly. “Would you be so kind as to inform the ambassador that Captain Portet of Air Congo would like a moment of his time?”
It was evident even before she opened her mouth that the receptionist didn’t understand a word he had said, but she made it official:
“Excuse me?”
“My father, my beauty,” Jack said in French, “wishes to see the ambassador. Be a good girl and tell him we’re here, won’t you?”
It was equally evident that the receptionist had only a distant acquaintance with the French language.
Captain Portet laid a business card on her counter. It identified him as the Chief Pilot of Air Congo, 473 Boulevard de Antwerp, Léopoldville.
The receptionist studied it.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, and got up from her desk. She turned and added, a bit triumphantly, "S’il vous plâit.”
“Merci, mademoiselle,” Captain Portet said.
A young black man in a suit came into the reception area a minute later.
“How may I help you?” he asked in English.
“You’re not the ambassador,” Captain Portet said, not very pleasantly, in Swahili. “I wish to see the ambassador, and I am getting tired of waiting.”
Father Lunsford, having figured out what was going on, chimed in.
“You are dealing with the chief pilot of Air Congo here, my good friend,” he said.
“Chief,” the young man said in Swahili, “I will inform his excellency that you are here.”
The ambassador, a squat, very black man in his fifties, appeared two minutes later. He smiled broadly at Captain Portet, then came around the counter with his arms spread wide.
“My dear friend!” he said in Swahili. “How good it is to see you!”
He kissed both of Captain Portet’s cheeks. He turned to Jack. “And the fruit of the lion’s loins!”
He kissed Jack.
“Chief, you are looking well,” Father said in Swahili.
The ambassador kissed Father.
He looked at Colonel Felter and CWO Finton and smiled, but did not kiss either one of them.
“What may I do for you?”
“I need a small favor,” Captain Portet said. “I need to send a message to a mutual friend of ours, and, to be discreet, I do not wish to send it through commercial channels. I thought you might be able to help me.”
He handed him a sheet of paper:
His Excellency,
Lt. Gen Joseph Désiré Mobutu
Chief of Staff, the Congolese Army
Léopoldville
My Dear Joseph:
I have the price for that investment you are considering. Jacques and I are on our way home. Can you