She had a fresh pot brewed. I guessed she had clicked the
switch at about eleven fifty-three, so it had finished perking
at midnight exactly. I guessed the Chief of Staff’s suite was
that sort of place. She gave me a saucer and a cup made of
transparent bone china. I was afraid of crushing it like an
eggshell. She was wearing civilian clothes. A dark suit so severe
it was more formal than a uniform.
‘This way,’ the Chief of Staff said.
He led me into his office. My cup rattled on its saucer. His
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office was surprisingly plain. It had the same painted concrete
walls as the rest of the building. The same type of steel desk I
had seen in the Fort Bird pathologist’s office.
‘Take a seat,’ he said. ‘If you don’t mind, we’ll make this
quick. It’s late.’
I said nothing. He watched me.
‘I got your message,’ he said. ‘Received and understood.’
I said nothing. He tried an ice-breaker.
‘Noriega’s top guys are still out there,’ he said. ‘Why do you
suppose that is?’
‘Thirty thousand square miles,’ I said. ‘A lot of space for
people to hide in.’
‘Will we get them all?’
‘No question,’ I said. ‘Someone will sell them out.’
‘You’re a cynic.’
‘A realist,’ I said.
‘What have you got to tell me, major?’
I sipped my coffee. The lights were low. I was suddenly aware
that I was deep inside one of the world’s most secure buildings,
late at night, face to face with the nation’s most powerful
soldier. And I was about to make a serious accusation. And only
one other person knew I was there, and maybe she was already
in a cell somewhere.
‘I was in Panama two weeks ago,’ I said. ‘Then I was transferred
out.’
‘Why do you think that was?’
I took a breath. ‘I think the Vice-Chief wanted particular
individuals on the ground in particular locations because he
was worried about trouble.’
‘What kind of trouble?’
‘An internal coup by your old buddies in Armored Branch.’
He paused for a long moment.
‘Would that have been a realistic worry?’ he asked.
I nodded. ‘There was a conference at Irwin scheduled for
New Year’s Day. I believe the agenda was certainly con
troversial, probably illegal, maybe treasonous.’
The Chief of Staff said nothing.
‘But it misfired,’ I said. ‘Because General Kramer died. But
there were potential problems from the fallout. So you personally
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intervened by moving Colonel Garber out of the 110th and
replacing him with an incompetent.’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘So that nature would take its course and the investigation
would misfire too.’
He sat still for another long moment. Then he smiled.
‘Good analysis,’ he said. ‘The collapse of Soviet communism
was bound to lead to stresses inside the U.S. military. Those
stresses were bound to manifest themselves with all kinds
of internal plotting and planning. The internal plotting and
planning was bound to be anticipated and steps were bound to
be taken to nip potential trouble in the bud. And as you say,
there were bound to be tensions at the very top that led to
moves and countermoves.’
I said nothing.
‘Like a game of chess,’ he said. ‘The Vice-Chief moves, and I
countermove. An inevitable conclusion, I suppose, because you
were looking for a pair of senior individuals in which one
outranks the other.’
I looked straight at him.
‘Am I wrong?’ I said.
‘Only in two particulars,’ he said. ‘Obviously you’re right in
that there are huge changes coming. CIA was a little slow to
spot Ivan’s imminent demise, so we’ve had less than a year
to think things through. But believe me, we’ve thought them
through. We’re in a unique situation now. We’re like a heavyweight
boxer who’s trained for years for a shot at the world
title, and then we wake up one morning and find our intended
opponent has dropped dead. It’s a very bewildering sensation.
But we’ve done our homework.’
He leaned down and opened a drawer and struggled out with
an enormous loose-leaf file. It was at least three inches thick. It
thumped down on his desktop. It had a green jacket with a long