The shooters pa-4

by W. E. B Griffin

  "Good morning, Sergeant Mullroney," Castillo said. "We're about to have corned beef hash and eggs. Sound all right to you?"

  Mullroney smiled wanly and nodded.

  "I see what you mean," McGuire said.

  Casey smiled at him, then announced: "I just talked to the guys in the hangar. The new gear is up and running in your airplane. And Signature Flight Support has finished doing whatever they had to do to the G-Three."

  "Great!" Torine said. "Thanks, Frank."

  "I suppose that means you're not going to hang around for a day, a couple of days? Take in a couple of the shows?"

  "We'll have to take a rain check, Frank," Castillo said.

  "Yeah, I figured. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

  "Now that you mention it…"

  Casey made a Give it to me gesture.

  "To get this guy back, we're going to need a team," Castillo said. "Maybe more than one. But at least one. And choppers to move them around. Choppers equipped with both a good GPS and one of your wonderful radios."

  "Well, now that they've started giving the 160th what they need," Casey said, "they've got pretty good GPS equipment-"

  "What's the 160th?" Mullroney interrupted.

  "I'll tell you when you can ask questions, Charley," Lorimer said.

  "The 160th is the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment, Mullroney," Castillo said, and turned to Casey. "But the problem there is I can't use their helicopters."

  "Why not?" Lorimer asked.

  "I'll tell you when you can ask questions, Lieutenant," Castillo said seriously, waited for that to register on Lorimer's face, then smiled. "Hold the questions, Eddie, until your leader is finished."

  "Yes, sir."

  "The 160th has all the latest equipment," Castillo said. "Which we would have trouble getting into Paraguay and/or Argentina-just physically getting them down there-and even if we could do that, they would stick out like sore thumbs. We're going to have to do this black."

  Castillo saw that Mullroney had opened his mouth as if to ask a question and then after a quick glance at Lorimer had changed his mind.

  "Black means secretly, covertly, Mullroney. Nobody knows about it," Castillo explained. "Which means we're going to have to use Hueys."

  "Where are you going to get Hueys?" Torine asked. "And how are you going to get them down there black?"

  "Moving right along," Castillo said. "While I am figuring out where to get Hueys, and how to get them down there black, I thought I would send Munz, Lorimer, and Mullroney down there right away-"

  "I guess I don't get to go?" McGuire interrupted.

  "Tom, you'll be more useful in Washington," Castillo said.

  "I guess," McGuire said, sounding disappointed.

  "But keep your bag packed," Castillo said. He went on: "And on the airplane, if I can keep abusing Frank's generosity, there will be two-preferably three-ground versions of the radios. There's two-old models-down there already, and we're going to need at least two more in Paraguay. Plus, I just thought, operators for same. You'll probably have to stop by Bragg to pick them up, Jake."

  "Not a problem," Torine said.

  "The ones you have in South America still working?" Casey asked.

  "You heard me talk to Argentina yesterday," Castillo said.

  Casey nodded, then offered, "I think there's a half-dozen new models waiting to be shipped to Delta, to General McNab, at Bragg-"

  "Think about that, Frank," Castillo said, stopping him. "Maybe there's only three waiting to be shipped to General McNab. The other three have mysteriously disappeared. If that was the case, I won't have to get on my knees and beg him for any."

  "If he finds out, he's not going to be happy."

  "I devoutly hope he never finds out," Castillo said. "But a bird in hand is worth two in the bush." He looked at Lorimer. "You may want to write that down, Lieutenant."

  "Yes, sir," Lorimer said, and took a notebook from his pocket and started writing in it.

  Torine and McGuire shook their heads. Mullroney appeared to be confused.

  Casey chuckled and said, "It'll take me a couple of days to come up with-what did you say, four?-sets of GPS and that many aviation radios, maybe a little longer for them."

  "All contributions gratefully-"

  "Yeah, yeah," Casey interrupted impatiently.

  He took a cellular from his pocket and pushed a speed-dial key.

  "Casey," he announced into it. "There's a half-dozen Model 3405s waiting to be shipped to Bragg. Put three of them in the Gulfstream in the hangar."

  Then he hung up.

  "What are you going to do about the ambassador?" McGuire asked.

  "Try to hide from the one in Washington," Castillo replied, "and put the one in Mississippi on hold. What I have to do now is get to Washington."

  Mullroney's face showed that he was trying hard to make sense of what had been said and not having much success.

  [FOUR]

  Double-Bar-C Ranch

  Near Midland, Texas 1225 3 September 2005 As Torine lined up with the runway, Castillo saw there was a Bombardier/Learjet 45XR parked beside the horse-head oil pump.

  "Look who's here," Castillo said.

  "Put the wheels down, First Officer," Torine said. "We can chat later."

  Dona Alicia Castillo was again waiting for them, this time beside a Chevrolet Suburban, and this time a heavyset, almost massive dark-skinned man was with her.

  Castillo came down the stair door first. He went to his grandmother and kissed her.

  "Nice landing, gringo," the large man said. "Jake must have been flying."

  Castillo gave him the finger.

  Fernando Manuel Lopez and Carlos Guillermo Castillo thought of themselves as brothers-they had been raised together since puberty-but they were in fact first cousins.

  "Are you on parole, or are Maria and the rug rats here, too?" Castillo asked.

  Dona Alicia shook her head at both of them.

  "Now stop it, the both of you, right now," she ordered.

  Lopez answered the question anyway.

  "They're in Cancun," he said. "Taking a pre-going-back-to-school vacation."

  "You are going to have lunch," Dona Alicia said. "That's in the nature of a statement, not an invitation."

  "Nevertheless, I gratefully accept, Abuela," Castillo said.

  "Eddie," Castillo ordered, "why don't you take Sergeant Mullroney for a walk?"

  Lorimer made a Get up, let's go gesture to Mullroney, who stood up and followed Lorimer off the verandah where lunch had been served.

  "Presumably, you think you have a good excuse for that discourtesy," Dona Alicia said when they were out of earshot.

  "There are some things we have to discuss that are none of his business," Castillo said.

  "Then why is he here with you?" she demanded. Before Castillo could reply, she said, "I just saw on Colonel Torine's face that he thinks I'm wrong. Sorry, Carlos."

  "I'm the one who should be…is…sorry for involving you in the first place," Castillo said. "If I could have thought of someplace else to take Munz's family, believe me, I would have."

  She looked at him for a moment. "Thank you, Carlos."

  "For what?"

  "For bringing them here. And for not reminding me you tried very hard to keep me from coming here."

  He didn't reply.

  "What do we have to discuss?" she asked after a moment.

  "We're all…Colonel Munz, Tom McGuire, and me…agreed that there's no longer a threat here to Senora Munz and the girls."

  "Well, that's good news! Thank God for that."

  "So Tom's going to call off the Secret Service," Castillo said. "Which then raises the question what to do with them for the next two, three weeks, however long it takes to be sure they can safely return to Argentina."

  "Why, they'll stay here, of course," she said. "Where else would they go?"

  "I hate to ask you to stay with them," Castillo said.

  "Do
n't be silly, Carlos," she said. "I enjoy being with them." She paused. "But…Mr. McGuire?"

  "Ma'am, could I get you to call me 'Tom'?"

  "Tom, if they would be safe here, would they be safe in San Antonio?"

  McGuire considered the question before replying.

  "At your home there, you mean?"

  She nodded.

  "No," Castillo said.

  "Actually, Charley, that might be a better solution than leaving them here," McGuire said. "Ma'am, would having a driver for your car raise any eyebrows?"

  "Abuela usually has a driver when she goes out at night," Fernando Lopez said. "What are you thinking, Tom?"

  "That, to err on the side of caution, instead of just canceling the protection detail, I have it cut from what we have here now…twelve, probably?"

  "So Mr. Alvarez told me," Dona Alicia said.

  "If it's been a twelve-man detail," McGuire said, "that means there were at any given moment three agents on the job, which means that nine agents were lying around the swimming pool at the local motel, or drinking coffee in the snack bar, with people starting to wonder aloud who were all these guys in suits with guns and Yukons."

  McGuire looked at Castillo.

  "And we're agreed, Charley, that the threat is almost certainly gone, right?"

  Castillo nodded reluctantly.

  "So we call off the detail here completely, and we set up a three-man detail in San Antonio. Which means one will be available at all times to do the job when necessary-whenever they leave the house, in other words, they have an agent with them. If we call off the detail here, that means no agents, period. And Alvarez can have a word with the San Antonio cops to keep their eyes open. What's wrong with that, Charley?"

  Dona Alicia did not give him a chance to answer.

  "That's what we'll do," she said. "And I'll have a little party or two for the girls, so they can meet people their own age. They're already bored being here, and I can't say that I blame them."

  "I think we should leave it up to Munz," Castillo said.

  "I think we should, too, Chief," McGuire said. "Want to know why?"

  "Why?"

  "Alfredo has a lot of protection experience. Like I do. Who do you think he's going to agree with, you or me?"

  "I guess we'll have to see," Castillo said, a little lamely.

  "Carlos, I suppose it's important that Colonel Munz go to South America right away?" Dona Alicia asked.

  "I'm afraid so, Abuela. And that means right now. I'm sitting here wondering if I can work up the courage to tell him it's time to go."

  "I'll go get him," Dona Alicia said, and stood up and walked into the house.

  Castillo looked at Lopez.

  "All right, gringo," Fernando said, "I'll ride the right seat down there and back. But that's it. And that presumes I can be back before Maria comes back from Cancun."

  "I didn't ask, Fernando," Castillo said.

  "You knew if you asked, I'd tell you to go to hell," Fernando said. "I told you I'm getting too old to play James Bond with you guys."

  "Fernando going would solve the problem of having to find another pilot," Jake Torine said. "All we're going to do is drop off Munz and the others with the radios, and come right back. So thanks, Fernando."

  "He should be thanking us for the privilege of flying our airplane," Castillo said.

  Fernando gave Castillo the finger.

  "How do I get back here to pick up the Lear?" Fernando asked.

  "Charley," McGuire asked, "what if I stay here, take your grandmother and the Munzes to San Antonio, say, tomorrow, and get things set up there? That'd probably reassure Munz. By the time I have things set up, Jake and Fernando will be back from Buenos Aires. So you send a plane to pick me up, it brings Fernando here, and then picks me up in San Antonio? That'd work."

  Castillo considered the suggestion and nodded. "Okay. Then that's what we do."

  "God, I feel sorry for them," Castillo said, nodding discreetly at the wife and young daughters of Alfredo Munz, who had just watched Munz get into the Gulfstream III.

  "I probably shouldn't tell you this," Dona Alicia said, "but you're the one I feel sorry for."

  "Why?"

  "Everybody has somebody but you."

  "Hey, Abuela. I have you."

  "I'm your grandmother. You share me with Fernando and his family."

  "You're all I need," Castillo said.

  She would not give up.

  "Colonel Munz has his family. Mr. McGuire has his family. Colonel Torine has his family. You don't even have a dog."

  "If it will make you happy, I'll get a dog."

  Now why the hell did I say that?

  What the hell would I do with a dog?

  The right engine of the Gulfstream began to whine.

  Castillo placed his hands gently on Dona Alicia's arms, kissed her on both cheeks, and went up the stair door.

  [FIVE] 7200 West Boulevard Drive

  Alexandria, Virginia 2340 3 September 2005 "We're home, Colonel," the Secret Service driver of the Yukon said, gently pushing Castillo's shoulder.

  Castillo's head jerked up. For a moment he was confused, and then he knew where he was.

  In the front seat of the Yukon, in the basement of the house.

  "How long was I out?" he asked.

  "You dozed off before we were out of the airport."

  "You ever hear that only people with nothing on their conscience can go to sleep with no difficulty?"

  The Secret Service agent chuckled.

  "So what happens now?" Castillo asked.

  "There's my relief," the Secret Service agent said, pointing to a man walking up to the Yukon. "I go off at midnight, in twenty minutes."

  Max was walking to one side of the man, and looking at the truck.

  "In that case, can I offer you a nightcap?" Castillo offered. "I'm about to have one. Which I richly deserve. This has been one hell of a day."

  He sensed reluctance on the part of the Secret Service agent.

  "If you have moral scruples against Demon Rum, then okay. Otherwise, consider that an order. I always feel depraved when I drink alone."

  "I could use a little nip."

  "Then come along."

  Castillo's door opened as he reached for the handle.

  "Good evening, sir," the Secret Service agent who had walked up to the Denali said.

  Max effortlessly stood on his rear paws and put his forepaws on Castillo's legs.

  "How are you, pal?" he asked, and scratched Max's ears.

  Max sat down on his haunches.

  "I see you've made a pal of Max," Castillo said to the Secret Service agent.

  "He's been meeting every car that's come in here," the Secret Service agent said. "Obviously waiting for you. Until now, he's just taken a look and gone back upstairs."

  "I probably smell like hamburger," Castillo said, and then asked: "You're going to be here all night? What did you do wrong?"

  The Secret Service agent chuckled.

  "Not to go any farther?"

  Castillo nodded.

  "We bid for the duty. This looked like a much better deal than spending all night sitting in the truck in the White House parking lot. Seniority counts, and I won."

  "Well, the only person who can get me out of here tonight is the President, and I heard on the radio that he's on the Gulf Coast looking at hurricane damage, so why don't you find an empty bedroom and catch some sleep?"

  "Maybe later, Colonel. Thank you."

  "I have to be at the Nebraska Avenue Complex at eight. Is that going to screw up your getting relieved?"

  "No, sir. If you're sure about that, I'll have my relief meet me there."

  "Why don't you do that?"

  He nodded.

  The stairway from the garage led into the kitchen, and there was a door from the kitchen to the living room. When Castillo got close to it, Max brushed past him and pushed it open. Castillo motioned for the Denali driver to follow him. When he go
t inside, he was surprised to see Edgar Delchamps and a somewhat frumpy man Delchamps's age whom he didn't recognize. They were sitting in the leather chairs and couch around the battered coffee table, working on a bottle of Famous Grouse.

  "Oh, Edgar, I'm touched," Castillo said. "You waited up for me!"

  Neither man seemed amused.

  "We need to talk, Ace," Delchamps said.

  "Will it wait until we get a drink?"

  "Yeah, but he'll have to drink his someplace else," Delchamps said, then looked at the Secret Service agent and added, "Nothing personal."

  "Not a problem, sir. And I can pass on the drink."

  "Have the drink," Castillo ordered.

  Not another word was said until Castillo had poured two drinks, given one to the Secret Service agent, who downed it, then said, "Ah. Thank you, sir. And good evening, gentlemen."

  He left the living room, closing the door behind him.

  "Say hello to Milton Weiss, Ace," Delchamps said. "He and I go back a long way."

  When they shook hands, Weiss's eyes were cold and penetrating. Castillo was reminded of the first time he'd met Aleksandr Pevsner. He wondered now-as he had then-whether the look in the eyes was natural, or whether it had been cultivated.

  When you get that look, you know damned well you're really being examined.

  Max walked up to Castillo and rubbed his head against Castillo's leg. Castillo scratched Max's ears and looked at Delchamps.

  "And where is the master of this beast?"

  "In the Monica Lewinsky Motel," Delchamps said.

  "What?"

  "Okay, Ace," Delchamps said, tolerating him. "Kocian consulted a canine gynecologist who confirmed that Madchen is in the family way. Which came as no surprise to those of us who watched the happy couple couple happily in the garden of the safe house for hours at a time.

  "Said canine gynecologist offered his professional opinion that the lovers should now be separated, as Max cannot seem to grasp that his role in the procreation of his species is no longer required, and that Madchen is very likely going to take large pieces out of him if he continues to try to force his now unwanted attentions on her. How to do that?

  "Kocian-having been advised by Miller that your suite in the Monica Lewinsky is empty but paid for through the end of the month-decided that he had enough of bucolic suburban life and had Miller take him and Madchen to the Mayflower, leaving Max here, his fate to be decided later."