“Why should I believe that?”
“I was in America at the time. Didn’t they tell you?” Cortez filled in some details. “An information source like Mrs. Wolfe,” he concluded, “is worth far more than stupid, emotional revenge. It is more foolish still to challenge a powerful nation in so obvious a way. Your response was quite well done. In fact, the operations you are running are most impressive. I didn’t even suspect your airport-surveillance operations until after they were terminated, and the way you simulated the car bomb – a work of art, if I may say so. Can you tell me what the strategic objective of your operation is?”
“Come now, Colonel.”
“Admiral, I have the power to expose the totality of your activities to the press,” Félix said almost sadly. “Either you tell me or you tell the members of your own Congress. You will find me far more accommodating. We are, after all, men of the same profession.”
Cutter thought for a moment, and told him. He was greatly irritated to see his interlocutor start laughing.
“Brilliant!” Cortez said when he was able to. “One day I would wish to meet this man, the one who proposed this idea. Truly he is a professional!”
Cutter nodded as though accepting the compliment. For a moment Félix wondered if that might be true… it was easy enough to find out.
“You must forgive me, Admiral Cutter. You think I am making light of your operation. I say to you honestly that I am not. You have, in fact, accomplished your goal.”
“We know. We know that somebody tried to kill you and Escobedo.”
“Yes,” Félix replied. “Of course. I would also like to know how you are developing such fine intelligence on us, but I know that you will not tell me.”
Cutter played the card for all he thought it was worth. “We have more assets than you think, Colonel.” It wasn’t worth that much.
“I am sure,” Cortez allowed. “I think we have an area of agreement.”
“What might that be?”
“You wish to initiate a war within the Cartel. So do I.”
Cutter betrayed himself by the way he stopped breathing. “Oh? How so?”
Already Cortez knew that he had won. And this fool was advising the American President?
“Why, I will become a de facto part of your operation and restructure the Cartel. That means eliminating some of the more offensive members, of course.”
Cutter wasn’t a total fool, but made the further mistake of stating the obvious as a question: “With yourself as the new head?”
“Do you know what sort of people these ‘drug lords’ are? Vicious peasants. Barbarians without education, drunk with power, yet they complain like spoiled children that they are not respected.” Cortez smiled up at the stars. “They are not people to be taken seriously by men such as ourselves. Can we agree that the world will be better when they have left it?”
“The same thought has occurred to me, as you have already pointed out.”
“Then we are in agreement.”
“Agreement on what?”
“Your ‘car bombs’ have already eliminated five of the chieftains. I will further reduce the number. Those eliminated will include all who approved the murder of your ambassador and the others, of course. Such actions cannot go unpunished or the world is plunged into chaos. Also, to show good faith, I will unilaterally reduce cocaine shipments to your country by half. The drug trade is disordered and overly violent,” the former DGI colonel said judiciously. “It needs restructuring.”
“We want it stopped!” Even as he said it, Cutter knew that it was a foolish thing to say.
Cortez sipped at his Perrier and continued to speak reasonably. “It will never be stopped. So long as your citizens wish to destroy their brains, someone will make this possible. The question, then, is how do we make the process more orderly? Your education efforts will eventually reduce the demand for drugs to tolerable levels. Until then, I can regularize the trade to minimize the dislocation of your society. I will reduce exports. I can even give you some major arrests so that your police can take credit for the reductions. This is an election year, is it not?”
Cutter’s breathing took another hiatus. They were playing high-stakes poker, and Cortez had just announced that the deck was marked.
“Go on,” was all he managed to say.
“Was this not the objective of your operations in Colombia? To sting the Cartel and reduce drug trafficking? I offer you success, the sort of success to which your President can point. Reduction in exports, some dramatic seizures and arrests, an intramural war within the Cartel for which you will not be blamed, yet for which you will also take credit. I give you victory,” Cortez said.
“In return for… ?”
“I, too, must have a small victory to establish my position with the chieftains, yes? You will withdraw support for the Green Berets you have climbing those horrible mountains. You know – the men you are supporting with that large black helicopter in Hangar Three at Howard Air Force Base. You see, those chieftains whom I wish to displace have large groups of retainers, and the best way for me to reduce their numbers is to have your men kill them for me. At the same time, unfortunately, in order to gain standing with my superiors” – this word was delivered with Richter-scale irony – “my bloody and costly operation must ultimately be successful. It is a regrettable necessity, but from your point of view it also eliminates a potential security problem, does it not?”
My God. Cutter looked away from Cortez, out past the bug lights into the jungle.
“What do you suppose they’re talking about?”
“Beats the hell out of me,” Bright replied. He was on his last roll of film. Even with the high-speed setting, to get a good shot he had to bring the shutter speed way down, and that meant holding the camera as still as a hunting rifle on a distant prong-horn.
What was it the President said? Close the operation out, and I don’t care how…
But I can’t do that.
“Sorry,” Cutter said. “Impossible.”
Cortez made a helpless, shrugging gesture with both hands.
“In that case we will inform the world that your government has invaded Colombia and has committed murder on a particularly epic scale. You are aware, of course, of what will probably happen to you, your President, and many senior members of your government. It took so long for you to get over all those other scandals. It must be very troubling to serve a government that has so many problems with its own laws and then uses them against its own servants.”
“You can’t blackmail the United States government.”
“Why not, Admiral? Our mutual profession carries risks, does it not? You nearly killed me with your first ‘car bomb,’ and yet I have taken no personal offense. Your risk is exposure. Untiveros’s family was there, you know, his wife and two little ones, eleven domestic servants, I believe. All dead from your bomb. I will not count those who were carrying guns, of course. A soldier must take a soldier’s chance. As did I. As must you, Admiral, except that yours is not a soldier’s chance. Your chance will be before your courts and television reporters, and congressional committees.” What was the old soldier’s code? Cortez asked himself. Death before dishonor. He knew that his guest had no stomach for either.
“I need time to -”
“Think? Excuse me, Admiral, but I must be back in four hours, which means I must leave here in fifteen minutes. My superiors do not know that I am gone. I have no time. Neither do you. I offer you the victory for which you and your President hoped. I require something in return. If we cannot agree, then the consequences will be unpleasant for both of us. It is that simple. Yes or no, Admiral?”
“What do you suppose they just shook hands about?”
“Cutter doesn’t look real happy about it. Call the car! Looks like they’re buggin’ out.”
“Who the hell was he meeting with, anyway? I don’t recognize him. If he’s a player, he’s not a local one.”
“I don’t know.” The car was late getting back, but the backup followed Cutter right back to his hotel. By the time Bright got back to the airfield, he learned that the subject was planning a good night’s sleep for himself. The VC-20A was scheduled for a noon departure right back to Andrews. Bright planned to beat it there by taking an early commercial flight to Miami and connecting into Washington National. He’d arrive half dead from fatigue, but he’d get there.
Ryan took the call for the Director – Judge Moore was finally on his way back, but was still three hours out of Dulles. Jack’s driver was ready as the executive elevator opened onto the garage, and they immediately left for Bethesda. They got there too late. Jack opened the door to see the bed covered with a sheet. The doctors had already left.