"Worst fuel-consumption scenario, Colonel. Can you make it from here to Miami?"
"Very probably. There are never any guarantees."
"What about MacDill?" Castillo asked. "As a refueling stop?"
"Very probably," the lieutenant colonel said, after considering it for a moment.
"Thank you," Castillo said.
"But speaking hypothetically, MacDill requires advance notice-twelve hours, I believe, I'd have to check-to refuel transient aircraft."
"I'm not being hypothetical, Colonel," Castillo said. "What's going to happen is this: Ambassador Silvio at this moment is arranging for an American physician…"
He paused and looked at Torine.
"… who fortunately (a) is a fellow Miami Cuban, and (b) is in town conducting a seminar at the University of Belgrano, and a nurse or maybe two."
Torine nodded his understanding, and Castillo looked back at the lieutenant colonel.
"You are going to fly Special Agent Schneider, the doctor, and the nurses from here to Philadelphia just as soon-maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after tomorrow-as they say she's up to the trip."
"On whose authority, Major?"
"On mine," Castillo said softly.
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Major. My orders were to fly the FBI team down here, and then to return them to Washington."
"Listen to me very carefully, Colonel Newley," Colonel Torine said, icily. "I am telling you that Major Castillo has all the authority he needs to tell you to do anything. Now you can accept that, and cheerfully and willingly comply with any orders he may give you, or I will get on the horn to General McFadden at CentCom and inform him that after relieving you for obstructing a presidential mission, I am placing your copilot in command of the Gulfstream, assigning one of my backup crew as copilot, and returning you to Andrews by commercial air."
General Albert McFadden, U.S. Air Force, was the CentCom deputy commander.
Lieutenant Colonel Walter Newley's face paled. He swallowed, then said, "Yes, sir," very softly.
"Does that mean you understand you're under Major Castillo's orders?"
"Yes, sir," Lieutenant Colonel Newley said softly.
"What? I didn't hear that. You're supposed to sound like an Air Force officer, not some faggot wearing the wings of an Air Chad cabin attendant."
"Yes, sir," Lieutenant Colonel Newley said, much louder.
"Wait in the corridor for me, please, Colonel," Torine said, in a normal voice.
"Yes, sir," Lieutenant Colonel Newley said, somewhat loudly.
Torine waited until the door closed, then turned to Castillo.
"Charley," he began, and then saw that Corporal Lester Bradley, USMC, had heard the exchange.
"Son," Torine asked, "I don't think you heard much of that little conversation, did you?"
"What conversation is that, sir?" Corporal Bradley asked.
"The only thing I like better than a Marine is a selectively deaf Marine," Torine said.
"Permission to speak, sir?"
"Granted."
"During our training at Quantico, sir, we are told we will hear things we will immediately forget we heard."
"Thank you," Torine said. "Now, son, please go into the corridor for a moment so that it won't be necessary for you to forget what Major Castillo and I are going to discuss."
"Yes, sir," Corporal Bradley said, and went into the corridor.
When the door had closed, Torine said, "I have no idea what that nonsense with Newley was all about, but I have the feeling there's something more to it than him being a by-the-book asshole."
"He knew I'm a major. I never said I was. So somebody told him. I think I know who."
Torine made a give-it-to-me gesture with his hands. "There's an FBI agent, assigned to the embassy in Montevideo. Name of Yung. I think he's made me."
"I don't think I understand."
"Howard Kennedy told me he's one of their hotshots-"
"Kennedy is here?" Torine asked, visibly surprised.
"He was. Kennedy said he used to work with this guy, and that whatever he's doing in Montevideo-he's supposed to be working on money laundering-isn't what he's really doing."
"I'll try to figure this out as you continue, Charley."
"I suspect there's still an FBI interest in Charley Castillo. What the cops would call a 'locate but do not detain.' Kennedy is still very worried about what he calls his 'former associates,' and he's not a fool. The FBI thinks I can lead them to Pevsner and/or Kennedy."
"Charley, I was there, with you, when the President told the DCI and director of the FBI to lay off Pevsner. I interpreted that to mean lay off Pevsner and the people who work for him."
"That's the primary reason I'm telling you this now, Jake. Somebody told the New York Times guy here-and some others-that the President's agent is down here, and somebody told Colonel Newley that I'm a major. And probably a troublemaker. 'Watch out for that sonofabitch, he can get you in trouble.' Am I being paranoid, or is it possible the FBI is ignoring what you and I would call a direct order from the President?"
Colonel Torine considered that for a moment, then said, "Well, you know what they say, Charley."
"No, what do they say?"
"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean that little green men aren't trying to castrate you with machetes."
"Shit," Castillo chuckled.
"What are you going to do about it?" Torine asked.
"I have a gut feeling I should do nothing about it now. Maybe because I'm a little afraid of the clout they've given me, and I don't want to burn the bastard until I'm sure he is a bastard. And I also want to find out what Howard Kennedy meant when he said whatever Yung is doing in Montevideo, it's not reading bank statements."
"What else could he be doing?"
"I have no idea, but I do know that the minute the FBI finds out I've fingered him, he'll stop doing it, and then I'll never know."
Torine shrugged. "It's your call, Charley. I can't fault it. What do you want me to do with Newley?"
"See that he gets the airplane ready. Have him hang around here until we can get this doctor to look at the airplane and see what else he will need."
"Done," Torine said. "Charley, I've got a guy at Ezeiza who can fly that Gulfstream. Redundancy was one of the reasons I brought him along. Say the word and I'll have him fly it."
"No, I don't want to do that. If you relieve Newley, there goes his career. He was doing what he thought was the right thing to do, and I think you made a Christian out of him."
"Your call. What are you going to do now?"
"I'm going back to the hospital and wait for Betty to come out of the operating room."
"Want some company? After I make sure I've made a true Christian out of Newley? One who won't go back to his wicked ways the minute we get off the ground?"
"Thanks but no thanks, Jake."
X
[ONE] The German Hospital Avenida Pueyrredon Buenos Aires, Argentina 2135 24 July 2005 There were two men Castillo suspected were SIDE agents in the lobby of the hospital when he and Corporal Bradley walked in. Confirmation came when one of them walked up to them and told Castillo "your agent" was in room 677.
It was the room where Mrs. Masterson had been placed. Castillo wondered whether it was coincidence or whether the ever-resourceful Colonel Munz had an arrangement with the hospital for really secure rooms for patients in whom SIDE had an interest.
When he got to the sixth floor, Castillo found Jack Britton sitting in a folding metal chair outside the room, holding a Madsen on his lap.
"Betty's still in the operating room, Charley," Britton said. "Solez talked somebody into letting him wait outside the operating room. Apparently, they're going to bring her here instead of to a recovery room. They've been taking all sorts of equipment in there. And there's a couple of guys with Uzis down the hall."
Castillo looked, and then said, "I just made arrangements for Betty to be flown-on the Gulfstream that brought you dow
n here-to Philadelphia when she's up to traveling. I want you to go with her."
Britton nodded.
"I had Dick Miller call Chief Inspector Kramer to give him a heads-up. When we know something, I'll call him and bring him up to speed. Unless I'm gone before that happens, then you'll have to do it."
Britton nodded again.
Castillo looked into the room and saw that it was prepared to treat someone just out of an operating room.
"I hope there's a john in there," Castillo said. "I really need to take a leak."
He saw on Corporal Lester Bradley's face that a visit to a toilet was high on his agenda, as well. Clearly uncomfortably, perhaps even painfully high.
"Corporal, there are two things that a warrior must always remember," Castillo said sternly. "The first is to void one's bladder at every opportunity, because one never knows when there will be another opportunity to do so."
"Yes, sir."
"The second is RHIP."
"Rank Has Its Privileges, yes, sir."
"Which in this case means I get to go in there before you do."
"Yes, sir."
"Just kidding. Go on, Bradley," Castillo said. "I can wait."
"You go ahead, sir."
"You have your orders, Corporal! This is your opportunity,maybe your only opportunity. Take it!"
"Yes, sir."
Britton chuckled. "Nice kid," he said, when Bradley had gone into the room.
"Yeah. And so was Sergeant Roger Markham," Castillo said, and then went on, bitterly, " 'The secretary of the Navy regrets to inform you that your son, Staff Sergeant Roger Markham, was killed in the line of duty. What he was doing was chauffeuring a Secret Service agent to a bar, where she was to meet her boyfriend.' "
"First I'll tell you about Markham," Britton said.
"Tell me about Markham?"
"The gunnery sergeant came looking for you-the guy in charge of the Marine guards?"
"I know who he is."
"He brought a casket for Markham's body, and a flag. They've got him in a cooler in the morgue here in the hospital, and they're going to take him out to Ezeiza first thing in the morning. He said that if he didn't get a chance to see you, to tell you thanks for making sure Markham had a Marine escort-there's two Marines in the morgue with the body-and for sending him home in a military aircraft, instead of like one more piece of luggage on Delta or American."
"Well, you know me, Jack. 'Charley Castillo, always looking out for his men. He's not very good at it, and some of them get blown away, but what the hell, Castillo means well.' "
"Oh, bullshit, Charley. That's the second thing I'm going to tell you: What happened to Markham and Betty is not your fault."
"I should have been in that car, Jack, and you know it."
"No. That's bullshit. If you had been in that car, one of two things would have happened. You'd either be in the cooler with Markham, or you'd be in a hospital bed like Betty."
"Maybe I could have gotten one of the bastards."
"More bullshit and you should know it. Face the facts, Charley."
"What are the facts?"
"I don't know how it is with the Secret Service, but I suspect it's just like on the cops."
"I don't follow you, Jack."
"On the cops, when something like this happens- your partner gets shot, or whacked-they won't let you near the investigation. You're too emotionally involved. I'm afraid if you keep up this 'it's all my fault' bullshit somebody important's going to hear you and they'll keep you off the investigation. And I wouldn't like that."
"Why not?"
"Because the only way a brand-new Secret Service agent like me is going to be allowed to try to find the bastards who whacked Masterson, Markham, and almost whacked Betty is if you can fix it. And I really want those bastards, Charley."
For a moment, Castillo couldn't find his voice. Then he said, "For however long I'm on this, Jack, if I have anything to say about it, you will be, too."
"You'll be on it a lot longer if you get your act together. Starting with nobody has to know about you and Betty. Can you get that Air Force colonel to keep his mouth shut?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. It was just the four of us in the hotel room, and Markham's dead, you say the Air Force guy will keep his mouth shut, and if you and I play it cool, no one has to know about you and Betty."
"That'll be tough for me to fake, Jack."
"You're supposed to be a hard-ass. Fake it."
Corporal Bradley returned to the corridor.
Castillo touched Britton's shoulder and went into room 677.
When he came out of the toilet, there was a large, well-dressed man with a full, neatly trimmed mustache standing with his hands folded in front of him, by the door, which was closed.
Castillo was startled, but quickly recovered.
If this guy wasn't supposed to be in here, Britton wouldn't have let him in. Maybe he's a doctor, or something.
No, he's not, unless the doctors around here wear shoulder holsters.
Conclusion: One more guy from SIDE. A senior guy from SIDE.
"Senor?" Castillo asked.
"Senor Castillo?"
"Si."
"I am el Coronel Alejandro Gellini of SIDE, Senor Castillo."
Castillo crossed the room to him and put out his hand.
"Mucho gusto, mi coronel," Castillo said.
"I have just seen Ambassador Silvio, senor. I conveyed to him, on behalf of the President of the Nation, our profound regret for what has happened to the female Secret Service agent and the Corps of Marines sergeant."
"That was very good of you, of the President, mi coronel," Castillo said.
"Ambassador Silvio told me that you are in charge of security for Senora Masterson and her children, in fact of everybody."
"That's true," Castillo said.
"And I have come to personally assure you that all the resources of SIDE will be used for the protection of Senora Masterson and her children and of course the female agent and yourself while you are in Argentina. I give you my personal guarantee that nothing like this will happen again."
"Mi coronel, that's very kind, but I have to say that el Coronel Munz is already doing everything possible."
"I have replaced el Coronel Munz as director of SIDE, senor."
"Excuse me?"
"El Coronel Munz has been relieved of his duties, senor. A board will be convened to look into allegations of his dereliction of his duties."
Oh, shit!
And Munz knew this was coming.
That's why I got the little pep talk and the "Goodbye, Charley" when he left.
These bastards needed a scapegoat-this had to be someone's fault; anybody's but some bureaucrat's-and they're hanging Alfredo out to flap around in the wind.
Sonofabitch, that's rotten!
"Mi coronel, if there will be witnesses before the board you speak of, I would like to appear, to testify for the defense."
"Senor Castillo, forgive me, but this is an internal Argentine matter."
I better shut up right now. Whatever I say next will be the wrong thing.
Fuck it!
"Forgive me, mi coronel, but any dereliction of el Coronel Munz would obviously have to do with what has happened to Americans, and I, as the American officer charged with the security of those Americans, am probably better qualified than anyone else to judge how well el Coronel Munz discharged his responsibilities."
"I repeat, Senor Castillo, that this is an internal Argentine matter."
"It stinks, mi coronel, and you may quote me."
"I regret you feel that way, senor," Colonel Gellini said. "If you have some question, my men know how to contact me. Good evening, senor."
He put out his hand. Castillo looked at for a long moment, and then turned his back.
That wasn't too smart, Charley.
Fuck it!
He heard the door close and took out his cellular and pushed an autodial button. Ambassador Silvio
answered on the second buzz.
"Silvio."
"Castillo, sir. Colonel Munz's replacement just came to see me."
"He came to see me. I wondered if sending him to see you was the wise thing to do."
"Probably not. That's a rotten thing to do to Munz."
"Jack Masterson used to say that it took him a long time to figure out the Argentines, but he finally had: Anything that goes wrong is always somebody else's fault. In this case, somebody is Colonel Munz."
"Is there anything we can do for Munz?"
"I've been thinking of writing a letter expressing our appreciation of Colonel Munz's services, and sending it to the newspapers. But it probably wouldn't do much good."
"Why not? Munz is out there hanging in the breeze. And God knows, he's done everything possible."
"They probably wouldn't print the letter, and if they did it would be regarded as an unwelcome meddling by the norteamericanos in Argentina's affairs. And following that, it would start being bandied about that the whole affair was really our fault; we shouldn't have sent Jack down here, knowing that a very wealthy man like Jack would almost certainly be a target for kidnappers."
"I don't think what's happened has anything to do with kidnapping," Castillo said.
"The trouble is we don't know what this is all about," the ambassador said. "How undiplomatic were you, Charley?"
"Not as undiplomatic as I would have liked to have been," Castillo replied. "I told him I would like to be a witness in Munz's defense, and then, after he told me twice that it was an internal matter, I told him it stinks, and he knows it, and that he can quote me."
"Oh, how I sometimes yearn to be free of diplomatic restraints," Silvio said. "You may not quote me, of course, but I couldn't have said it any better myself."
Charley chuckled. "Thank you, sir."
"I expect you're still waiting for the young lady to come out of the operating room?"
"Yes, sir."
"Please let me know as soon as you know something," Silvio said. "I just sent a car to pick up Dr. Mellener to take him to Jorge Newbery to meet the pilot and see what medical equipment is on the Gulfstream."
"Thank you." [TWO] After talking to the ambassador, Castillo had just enough time to see that the battery on his cellular was running low and to slip it in his pocket when the door to room 677 swung inward and two somewhat burly nurses in operating-room-blue uniforms pushed in a gurney.
The Hostage pa-2 Page 29