The Hunters
Page 66
“Your pockets, sir, are nowhere near as deep as those of the Lorimer Charitable Trust, but thank you anyway. I’m really grateful to you for coming all the way out here to meet with us.”
“This is Argentina. The only other place you could have eaten before eight would have been one of the places in the port. Or a McDonald’s.”
“Not to ask a rude question, but isn’t this the place where they snatched Mr. Masterson?” Delchamps asked.
“In the parking lot,” Silvio said, pointing. “So in a way, this is ending where it began, I suppose.”
“But it’s not ended,” Castillo said. “Masterson’s murderers, for all I know, are still running around free.”
“But some of their peers, and their superiors, are no longer with us, are they?” Silvio said. “And some have left us under circumstances, God forgive me, that I consider entirely appropriate.”
Castillo’s cellular buzzed.
“Now what?” he muttered.
He took the phone from his pants pocket.
“¿Hola?” he said into it.
“I’m sorry I had to go back on my word, friend Charley.”
“You sonofabitch. You told me I could have him.”
“He knew too much about me to have him talking to you, Charley.”
“Fuck you, Alek!”
“And besides, I decided that five years of regular rape was not sufficient punishment for his betrayal of me.”
“Fuck you, again.”
There was a moment’s silence before Pevsner went on, coolly: “Let me tell you what I’ve done.”
“And why should I believe anything you tell me?”
“Hear what I have to say and then you can decide. I spoke with Sunev and told him that I have deposited with certain people envelopes that will be sent to the CIA in the event I even suspect he has sent anyone near me, my family, or anyone involved in the recent events we have shared.”
“And what’s in the envelopes?”
“Oh, I’m sure you can make a good guess, friend Charley.”
“Goddamn you, Alek!”
“We’ll be in touch,” Pevsner said, and then the change in the background noise told Castillo that Pevsner had broken the connection.
Castillo punched his autodial button for Pevsner but got a recorded message saying that the telephone number called was no longer in service.
He put the phone back in his pocket.
“I hope you appreciate, Mr. Ambassador,” Delchamps said, “that you are in the presence of the only man in the world who can tell Aleksandr Pevsner to fuck himself twice in thirty seconds and probably—operative word ‘probably’—live until the morning.”
Silvio laughed.
“Are we going to see more of you, Mr. Delchamps? If you’re coming back to work with the others, maybe I could be of some assistance. Someplace to live, etcetera?”
“That’s very kind of you, sir. But I’m going to spend the next couple of months trolling through the basement at Langley. Two-Gun here will be coming back, though.”
“I’m going to take these two with me when I go face Ambassador Montvale,” Castillo said. “In numbers, there is strength. But if you want to be useful, see what you can do about keeping Two-Gun here out of trouble upon his return.”
“It will be my pleasure.”
“Now we have to get a cab.”
“Nonsense,” Ambassador Silvio said. “I’ll take you out to your jet.”
[NINE]
Office of the Chief
Office of Organizational Analysis
Department of Homeland Security
Nebraska Avenue Complex
Washington, D.C.
1625 15 August 2005
“Well,” Castillo said, “that went pretty well, I think…”
“Ace, you didn’t say a word that the President was going to come with Montvale. That was just too much to spring on an old man.”
“…Except, of course, that he turned a deaf ear to my suggestion that it was time for me to return to being a simple soldier.”
“You might as well forget that, Ace. He likes things the way they are.”
“Yeah,” Yung agreed. “The part I liked was when he said, ‘It’s a shame to leave all that oil-for-food money in that fellow Kenyon’s account. It’s not right that he be allowed to keep it. Isn’t there some way we could add it to OOA operating funds?’”
Castillo said, “I hope you weren’t just running off at the mouth when you chirped, ‘Not a problem, Mr. President.’”
“No problem at all,” Yung said. “You want me to go to Dallas and do that before I go back down there?”
“Absolutely. And you can catch a direct flight—American, I think—from Dallas to Buenos Aires. But before you go to Dallas there’s something really important I want you to do.”
“What?”
“Get on the Net and Google for a breeder of Bouvier des Flandres in the Dallas area.”
“For a what?” Delchamps asked.
“Max is a Bouvier des Flandres. I thought you knew.”
“And?” Yung asked.
“Buy the best breedable bitch available—cost is not a factor—make sure her papers are in order and take her with you to Pilar.”
“I actually think you’re serious,” Delchamps said.
“I don’t know how things are done in the spook world,” Castillo said, “but in the Army when someone saves your ass, the least you can do for him is get him laid.” He looked at Yung and added: “Tell Billy Kocian I want pick of the litter.”
“I’ll be goddamned,” Delchamps said, smiling. “Two-Gun, tell Kocian I get second choice.”