W Griffin - Hunters

"Transcripts of the interrogation, copies of everything, to OOA," Castillo said. "And they don't go near a United States Attorney until we decide they should."

"I don't like that last," Doherty said.

"I didn't think you would," Castillo said. "But what does that mean?"

"We do everything that Edgar said," Doherty said. "What's the risk of him getting on the phone and asking somebody for help?"

"I think we should tell him that his phones are going to be tapped and that he's going to have a Secret Service buddy with him day and night until we're through with him and that, if he's a bad boy, he goes straight to the Florence ADMAX and does not pass Go," Castillo said.

He looked at Doherty.

"Okay," Doherty said. "And now what? I mean, right now?"

"We go back to Midland, and tonight we have dinner with my grandmother. And in the morning, we go to Buenos Aires."

Doherty nodded.

Castillo walked forward to the cockpit.

"How did it go?" Jake Torine asked.

"Better than I dared hope. But we have to go to Buenos Aires first thing in the morning."

"I figured as much. Not a problem."

"How long is it going to take us to get back to Midland?"

Torine pointed at the ground.

"As long as it takes this one-legged junior birdman to get us down from thirty thousand feet," Torine said. "We've been flying a nice big circle over North Texas." He looked at Miller. "Junior Birdman, commence a gentle descent at this time."

"Yes, sir, Colonel, sir. My pleasure, sir," Miller said and reached for the trim control.

[ONE] Aeropuerto Internacional Jorge Newbery Buenos Aires, Argentina 1840 13 August 2005 It was a clear winter night in Argentina and as they made their approach they could see the sea of lights that was Buenos Aires. They could even pick out the bright yellow snake of lights of the superhighway running from the city to Pilar.

They had left Double-Bar-C ranch at six, after an enormous breakfast Dona Alicia had insisted on getting up to prepare for them.

Dick Miller's disappointment at not being able to go with them-Castillo wanted him both to brief Ambassador Montvale on the "interview" of Philip J. Kenyon III and to be available at the Nebraska Avenue Complex to deal with anything that might come up-was more than a little tempered when Colonel Jake Torine got on the horn and arranged for another F-15D "training flight" to pick him up in Midland and carry him to Andrews Air Force Base outside Washington.

Castillo, concerned about Yung's wounded hand, had thought of trying to find some way to tactfully leave him behind in the States without killing his newfound enthusiasm for the OOA but in the end had decided that he would be needed in South America, both to lend his expertise to putting the pieces together at the safe house in the Mayerling Country Club and to deal with Chief Inspector Ordonez in Uruguay if that became necessary.

Dinner at the Double-Bar-C had turned out to be very pleasant-even Jack Doherty seemed to be having a good time-although Fernando Lopez had nearly choked on his mouthful of wine when Dona Alicia had suddenly announced, "Oh, damn old age! Why didn't I think of this earlier? You remember Philip Kenyon, don't you, Carlos? You were in the Boy Scouts together. We ran into him at the Petroleum Club yesterday and, if I hadn't been asleep at the switch, we could have had him and his family here tonight. I know he would have loved to see you."

As everyone had loaded into one of the Secret Service Yukons, Dona Alicia had handed Castillo an aluminum-foil-wrapped package of barbecued beef ribs.

"For Ricardo, Carlos," she said, making reference to Special Agent Ricardo Solez of the Drug Enforcement Administration. "Give him my love, and tell him he can warm them on low in a microwave, but they would be better if he could find a grill of some kind."

"I'm sure we can find a grill for him, Abuela," Castillo had said.

On the way to the airport, they passed a Sam's Club. Probably because of the five-pound package of ribs in his lap, food was on Castillo's mind.

"Anyone got a Sam's card?" he asked.

Inspector Doherty confessed that He did.

"Go back to that Sam's Club, please," Castillo said. "It's already open."

A half hour later, Castillo came out of the Sam's Club carrying two ten-pound sacks of pancake flour and a gallon jug of Vermont maple syrup, followed by Colonel Torine, who carried plastic packages of shorts and T-shirts, a two and-half-pound bag of Hershey's assorted miniature chocolate bars, and a lined denim jacket.

They had cleared customs and were off the ground at one minute past eight. Their first stop had been Quito, Ecuador, which was almost exactly midway between Midland and Buenos Aires. They landed there at 1335.

During a very pleasant grilled-chicken luncheon, and, looking very pleased with himself, Special Agent Yung of the FBI turned to Inspector Doherty of the FBI and said, "Before we get to Buenos Aires, Inspector, you'd better give me your pistol."

"Why in the world would I want to do that?"

"Because otherwise the Argentine customs will take it away from you."

"Doesn't that apply to you, too?"

"I have a diplomatic passport," Yung said, smugly. "You don't."

"Two-Gun Yung's got you, Jack," Edgar Delchamps said.

"And what about you?" Doherty challenged.

"I've already given him mine," Delchamps said. "If he's nice enough to sneak yours into Argentina, I guess we'll have to start calling him Three-Gun Yung."

They were back in the air at 1510. Five hours and thirty-two minutes later, Castillo-trying very hard to make a perfect landing-touched down much too long and some what hard on the runway at Jose Newbery.

"Because of the two-hour time difference," Jake Torine told Castillo, "I will put it in the log that we landed at 1845 local time. Because I am a really fine fellow who would never hurt a junior officer's delicate sensibilities, I will with-hold critical comment on that absolutely awful landing."

They were met, as they had been the last time, by Paul Sieno and Ricardo Solez, who had the same unmarked Mercedes-Benz Traffik van and who again pretended to be Argentines sent to transfer American tourists to an unnamed estancia.

Once they were through the customs and immigration formalities and off the airfield, it was different. Sieno was obviously a great admirer of Edgar Delchamps and delighted to see him. [TWO] Nuestra Pequena Casa Mayerling Country Club Pilar, Buenos Aires Province, Argentina 1925 13 August 2005 As soon as he walked into the house, Delchamps got an equally warm reception from Susanna Sieno and an only slightly less enthusiastic one from Alex Darby.

Castillo was not spared a welcome home. Max was so pleased to see him that he put his front paws on Castillo's chest, knocked him down, and then to show there were no hard feelings enthusiastically licked his face.

Castillo was still trying to regain his feet when Eric Kocian came down the stairs, paused halfway, and announced: "I see my jailer has arrived."

"Forgive me for trying to keep you alive, Uncle Billy," Castillo said.

"Any man who shamelessly steals the affection of another man's dog is beneath contempt," Kocian said.

"Eric Kocian, Jack Doherty," Castillo said. "I'm sure the two of you will become great buddies."

"This is the schoolteacher with the blackboards?" Kocian said. "I recognize the voice."

"And these two, Inspector Doherty," Castillo continued, "are in-or were in-your line of work. Sandor Tor, formerly inspector of the Budapest police, and Colonel Alfredo Munz, former chief of Argentina's SIDE, which is sort of the FBI and the CIA combined."

"I know what it is," Doherty said as they shook hands.

"Carlos, I don't suppose you saw my family?" Munz said.