Castillo smiled.
"Anyway," he went on, "I need you to hold the fort here, Jack."
Castillo turned to Bradley.
"Think you can handle a BMW, Lester?"
"Sir, I am certified to drive any wheeled or tracked vehicle including the M1A1 Abrams tank and the corresponding vehicle-retrieval vehicles as well," Corporal Bradley announced.
"The question, Corporal, was can you handle a Bimmer?"
"I am confident that I can handle a Bimmer and a Beamer, sir."
Castillo smiled.
"Okay, Lester. Go with Mr. Sieno and-discreetly-get the Micro Uzi from her and put it in the backseat of the car she shows you. And there's two sacks of pancake flour and a gallon of maple syrup in the Traffik. Put that in the Bimmer, too. I'll be out in a minute with Mr. Delchamps."
"Aye, aye, sir," Corporal Bradley said. "And how many magazines, sir?"
"There's only two," Castillo replied.
"Extra boxed ammunition, sir?"
"I think the two magazines will be sufficient. Make sure they're charged."
"Aye, aye, sir."
When they were out of earshot, Davidson said, "You can't help laughing at him, but, when you do, you feel like you've just kicked a puppy."
"Yeah," Sergeant Kensington said.
"As for me, I have a very soft spot in my heart for people who have saved my ass," Castillo said.
"Curiosity overwhelms me, Charley," Alex Darby said. "What's with the pancake flour and the maple syrup?"
"Aleksandr Pevsner, Junior," Castillo said, "who is ten, has acquired a taste for pancakes and maple syrup from an American classmate. It's hard to get here in Argentina so I brought him some from the States."
"And just told Bradley to put it in the car," Darby said.
"Yes, I did."
"Can I put that together to mean you're on your way to see this pancake loving kid's daddy? He's here?"
"I hope, later today, that I'll be able to put it all together for you, Alex. But right now, Pevsner has my word that I won't tell anybody where he lives. That depends on Pevsner. Wish me luck."
"And taking Delchamps with you?" Darby asked.
"I want Edgar to tell him something I don't think he'd believe coming from me."
"I don't really know what's going on, Charley. Is that on purpose?"
"While I'm gone, Yung and Doherty can bring you-everybody-up to speed," Castillo said. "I don't think I'll be gone long."
He took what he now thought of as "the Argentine cellular" from his briefcase, pushed an autodial button, and put the phone to his ear.
"?Hola?" a voice said.
"There you go in that heavily Russian-accented Spanish again," Castillo said, in Russian.
"What do you want, Castillo?"
"Call the gate, Alek, and tell them to pass me in. I'm almost there, and I'm bringing pancake flour, maple syrup-a gallon of it-and an old friend to see you," Castillo said and hung up. Edgar Delchamps was already in the backseat of a dark blue BMW 720L with heavily darkened windows when Castillo came around the side of the house. Bradley was holding the door open for Castillo.
Castillo had forgotten that Max had been following him around until the dog decided the door was being held open for him and bounded into the backseat.
"Get this goddamned dog out of here," Delchamps said.
"You tell him, Edgar," Castillo said. "You have a forceful personality. Maybe he'll listen to you."
He gestured for Bradley to get behind the wheel, then opened the front passenger's door and got in.
"Go to that shopping center off Route 8," Castillo ordered Bradley. "The one with the Jumbo supermarket. I'll give you directions from there."
"Yes, sir."
Castillo put his arm on the back of the seat and turned to the passengers in the rear.
"Give that nice man a kiss, Max," he said, in German. "He's ugly and old and needs a little affection."
Purely by coincidence, of course, Max took that moment to take a closer look at his fellow passenger and, apparently liking what he saw, or perhaps what he smelled, leaned over and licked his face.
"I'll get you for that, Castillo," Delchamps said. [THREE] Buena Vista Country Club Pilar, Buenos Aires Province, Argentina 2045 13 August 2005 "Turn in here, Lester, and put your window down," Castillo ordered. "They're determined to keep out the riffraff."
The BMW and its occupants were inspected at the guardhouse barrier not only by two well-armed members of the security staff but also by Janos, Pevsner's massive bodyguard, who stuck his head into the car and peered into the rear seat.
Surprise-and more than a little concern-registered on Janos's face when Max showed his teeth and growled menacingly.
Then surprise showed on Castillo's face when Delchamps greeted Janos in Hungarian: "Janos, my old friend, how in God's blessed name are you?"
Janos, his head already out of the car, nodded but didn't reply. He signaled to the security guards that they could raise the barrier pole and then waved the big BMW through.
Castillo turned to speak to Delchamps.
"Is there some reason you didn't want to tell me you knew Janos?" Castillo asked.
"I thought you had enough on your mind, Ace, and didn't want to confuse you further."
"What about Pevsner? You know him, too?"
Delchamps nodded.
"I meet a lot of people in my line of work," Delchamps said.
They were halfway to Pevsner's house when Janos caught up with them in Pevsner's black Mercedes-Benz S600, then passed them. Aleksandr Pevsner, looking a member of the British landed gentry-he was wearing a Barbour rainproof jacket, corduroy pants, a checkered shirt, and a plaid woolen hat-stood waiting for them under the light over his front door. Janos stood behind him.
"Go open the door for me, Lester," Castillo said. "I want him to think you're an embassy driver."
"Yes, sir."
"Then get the pancake flour and maple syrup from the trunk."
"Yes, sir."
"?Hola, Alek!" Castillo called in Spanish as he got out of the car. "Been out in the rain, have you?"
"I was at the stable," Pevsner said.
"Hey, Mr. Respin," Delchamps called cheerfully, in Russian. "I knew when I saw Janos that you'd probably be somewhere around. It's been a longtime."
"Nine years," Pevsner replied after a long moment. "So long I forget what name you were using then."
"As a matter of fact, so do I," Delchamps replied. "Saffery, maybe?"
"I don't think that was it," Pevsner said. "What name are you using these days?"
"Delchamps. Edgar Delchamps. And what about you, Vasily?"
"Well, Mr. Delchamps, while I'm pleased to see you after all those years you're not the old friend I expected our mutual acquaintance to have with him."
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Alek," Castillo said, "but that old friend isn't at all sure you're really a friend of his."
"Why does ol' Charley here keep calling you Alek, Vasily?"
"Because that's my name!" Pevsner snapped.
"Where would you like me to put this stuff, sir?" Lester Bradley asked as he walked up with the maple syrup and pancake flour.
Pevsner looked at what Bradley was carrying.
"I just happened to be passing a Sam's Club," Castillo said. "And I remembered how much Sergei and Aleksandr like their pancakes and I figured, what the hell."
"Give it to Janos," Pevsner ordered.
"Hell, I'll carry it," Castillo said. "If Janos takes it, he'll have to take his hand off his pistol and I know how much he hates to do that." He took the flour and the gallon jug from Bradley. "That'll be all for now, Bradley," he said, then turned to Pevsner. "You are going to ask us in, aren't you, Alek?"
Pevsner exhaled audibly, shook his head, and turned around and held open the door to his house.
Janos followed everybody inside.
"I just remembered where it was the last time I saw you, Vasily-excuse me, Alek," Delcham
ps said.
"Where was that?" Pevsner said.
Delchamps turned to Castillo. "Remember when Laurent Kabila was trying to overthrow Mobutu Sese Seko in the Congo, Charley?"
"Yeah, vaguely. What was that? 1997? 1998?"
"Ninety-seven. Well, the good guys needed some guns, so I called Alek here-what does that stand for, 'Aleksandr'?"
"My name is Aleksandr Pevsner," Pevsner said, icily, "as if you don't already know that."
"Right," Delchamps said. "So I called Aleksandr here, and he not only had what the good guys needed, and at the right price, but was prepared to drop-ship it for me. He had just acquired his first Boeing 737. Before that he had-excuse me, Aleksandr, but it's the truth-a couple, maybe three, really ratty, worn-out Antonovs that I was always surprised could get off the ground."
Castillo looked at Pevsner and saw that while his face showed no emotion, Pevsner's ice-blue eyes could have burned holes in the old CIA agent.
Delchamps went on: "But he wanted cash on delivery, Aleksandr did. By then, I would have thought my credit was good. We'd done a lot of business before and he'd always gotten his money. And there wasn't all that much involved in this deal. A couple hundred Kalashnikov AK-47s, ammo, a few mortars, and I think there was even a dozen light.30 caliber Browning machine guns left over from Vietnam. Right, Aleksandr?"
"We all know you're not here to remember the past," Pevsner said. "Dare I hope this charade will soon come to an end?"
"Let me finish this for Charley, Aleksandr," Delchamps went on, casually. "So what that meant was I had to go to Kisangani-what used to be Stanleyville-with all this cash in my briefcase-"
"Goddamn it, Charley," Pevsner suddenly interrupted, having clearly lost his temper, "what have you done with Alfredo Munz and his family? I've had all of your sick humor that I can handle."
"The girls have been put to work in the prison kitchen," Castillo said. "They seem to have adjusted well to it. Would you like to see a picture?"
"If it would not be too much trouble," Pevsner said, icily. His face was still flushed, but he seemed to have his temper under control.
"Could we go into the living room? The pictures are in my computer. I need some place to put it down."
"You know the way," Pevsner said. "The lady holding Senora Munz's shoulder is my grandmother," Castillo said, in Russian, when he'd opened the laptop and shown Pevsner how to cycle the images onscreen by using the arrow keys.
A minute later, Castillo said, "I should be very angry at you for even considering the possibility that I would be holding them hostage. But all I am is a little sorry for you."
Pevsner met his eyes for a long moment, then said, "I didn't know what to think."
"Your apology is accepted," Castillo said.
"And Alfredo?"
"He's near here."
"I want to talk to him."
"He won't come here."
"There are some questions I have to ask him, and I want to do that face-to-face and alone."
"Well, he won't come here-he doesn't trust you, Alek-and I won't take you to where he is. The telephone won't do?"
Pevsner shook his head. "I need to look in his eyes."
Castillo didn't reply.
"He trusts you, apparently," Pevsner said.
"I think so."
"Do you trust me?"
"Let me ask that first, Alek. Do you trust me?"
"With the caveat that we have different agendas, yes, I do."
"Same answer, Alek. And now let me tell you what my agenda is: I want Howard Kennedy. Let me rephrase that. I am going to have Howard Kennedy."
"Which means what?"
"That I am going to run him down and then take him to the United States. The deal we have is still on. But it no longer includes Howard Kennedy."
"Why do you want Howard Kennedy?"
"For one thing, I want to know what his relationship with Colonel Pyotr Sunev was…is."
"I don't think Howard even knows who Sunevis."
"Kennedy knows who Sunev is," Delchamps said. "We have a very reliable source who saw him and Sunev together in Cozumel. In that hotel you own there, the Grand Cozumel Beach and Golf Resort."
Pevsner considered that carefully but didn't challenge it. Instead, he asked, "And if I don't choose to give you Howard Kennedy?"
"You don't have any choice, Alek," Castillo said. "I'm going to have him."
"Before either of us says anything more that we both might later regret, let's get back to Alfredo Munz."
"You're not proposing a swap?" Castillo asked, incredulously.
"Now you owe me an apology," Pevsner said. "On several levels. I don't barter away my friends. Both Alfredo and Howard are friends of mine."
"You're going to have to convince Munz of that; he doesn't think so."
"That's one of the reasons I have to see him."
"That brings us back to step one. I told you he's not going to come here."
"I keep a suite in the Sheraton, the one here in Pilar, right off the highway, near the Jumbo," Pevsner said. He waited until Castillo nodded, indicating he knew what he was talking about, then went on: "I use it to accommodate business associates I'd rather not have in my home."
"And will I bring Alfredo to your suite in the Sheraton? Come on, Alek! He's my friend. I'm not going to set him up to be whacked!"
"Charley, I swear before God I mean Alfredo no harm!"
"I wish I could believe you," Castillo said. "But why should I?"
"Because it's the goddamned truth, that's why!"
"What exactly do you want to ask him, looking into his eyes with that penetrating stare of yours?"
"That's really none of your business."
"It is if you want me to even ask him to put his neck in the garrote," Castillo said.
"Then we have a problem, because I won't tell you. You'll have to be satisfied that I mean Alfredo no harm."
"And I am determined that he will come to no harm," Castillo said. "He has already taken a bullet for me and one is too many. So I suppose our conversation is over. I know you're going to tell Kennedy he is no longer part of the deal. I have no problem with that. I can find him. But anything else you do to protect him from me will nullify our whole deal. You understand?"
Pevsner nodded coldly.
"I really am sorry it came to this," Pevsner said. "I think, in the long run, we will both regret it."
"I need a minute alone with you, Ace," Delchamps said, "before you kiss Aleksandr good-bye for all time. You want to take a walk for a couple of minutes, Alek, or is there someplace we can go?"
"I will leave you alone," Pevsner said. "When you have finished, I'll be right outside that door." "You really want to walk out of here, Ace?" Delchamps asked softly when the door had closed behind Pevsner.
"No. I thought he would cave and he didn't. But now I don't know what the hell to do next."
"He's one tough sonofabitch," Delchamps said. "Let me ask you this: would Munz tell you about their conversation if they had it?"
Castillo considered the question.
"You're wondering if he would tell you all about it?" Delchamps pursued.
"He'd tell me all about it," Castillo said ten seconds later.
"Well, then?" Delchamps asked.
"How do we explain our change of mind?"
"We tell him if there is to be a meeting, it has to happen right now, and the reason for that is that he wouldn't have time to set up a reception for Munz at the hotel."
"Those ex-Stasi bastards are pretty good," Castillo said.
"Thank you, sir. I will want to remember that, so I will write it down."
Castillo shrugged an apology.
"Want me to handle Pevsner?" Delchamps asked, and then, when Castillo nodded, went to the door and pulled it open. "Deal time, Alek," he said.
Pevsner came into the living room and looked between Castillo and Delchamps.
"Well?"
"Colonel Castillo will go this far," Delchamps
said. "One, he will ask Colonel Munz if he is willing to meet with you. If Munz is willing, two, we will tell you where to meet us, and give you fifteen minutes to get there. Three, you will come alone, and if there is anything that even looks suspicious we'll takeoff."
"Agreed. But I would like Janos to drive me."
Delchamps considered that for ten seconds, then said, "Okay, Janos can drive."
Pevsner nodded.
"Let's go, Colonel," Delchamps said.
Pevsner followed them to the door.
As Castillo and Delchamps approached the car, Delchamps quietly but clearly said, "You get in the back with that damned dog, Ace."
"Charley!" Pevsner called from his doorway.
Castillo turned to look at him.
"Thank for the flour and tree syrup," Pevsner said and smiled.
"You're welcome," Castillo replied, then got in the backseat of the BMW.
Max licked his face. [FOUR] "You open to suggestions as to how we do this, Ace?" Delchamps asked after they had left the Buena Vista Country Club.
Castillo nodded and Delchamps offered a plan.
"Great minds," Castillo intoned solemnly when he had finished, "walk the same paths."
"You're only saying that because you had absolutely no idea how this should be handled in a professional manner," Delchamps said.
Castillo took his cellular phone from his pocket and pushed an autodial button. He put the phone to his ear and, after a moment, said, "Castillo, Alex. We're on our way back there. ETA ten minutes or less. When we get there I want that Traffik ready to move with Solez at the wheel and Munz in the back. I want Davidson and Kensington, with Car-4s and handguns-and Whizbangs, if there are any-ready to get into this Bimmer the minute we get there. Delchamps and I will transfer to the Traffik. Delchamps will need something heavier than his pistol. If there's another Uzi there, fine. Put that and some Whizbangs in the Traffik. If not, a Car-4. There may be people watching who I don't want to see any of this happening. Do what you can about that. Got all that?"
"Yeah, I think so," Darby said. "What's going on?"
"And make sure that Solez has a cellular I can call from this one."
"Both that BMW and the Traffik have radios. Did you know that?"
"No, I didn't. But I don't know how to work them and there's not time to learn."
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