W Griffin - Hunters

"And Kensington finished him off?"

Castillo nodded.

"Understandable-those two went way back together-but inexcusable. He should have remembered that dead people don't talk much."

"I mentioned that to him," Castillo said.

"So you hauled your ass out of wherever you were?"

"After Kensington took a 9mm bullet out of the ex-SIDE guy."

"And what was in the a safe?"

"An address book and withdrawal slips for the money Lorimer had squirreled away in Uruguayan banks."

"You got the money? What did you say, sixteen million?"

"I think we should have it first thing in the morning."

"And what's in the address book?"

"It's in code. It'll be at Fort Meade at eight this morning. When they do their thing, I'll be able to have a good look. Anyway, we got the hell out of there and the hell out of South America."

"Seymour? You didn't leave him there?"

"We left Lorimer and the six bad guys there-no identification on any of them-and dropped Kranz off at MacDill on the way to Washington."

"And then you came here. Why?"

"I wanted your opinion, Vic."

"Well, that's a first."

"Mr. Masterson told me the bad guys wanted Lorimer and that was why they executed Masterson, to make the point they were willing to kill to find him. Well, he's been found. The bad guys are going to hear that he's dead. Does that remove the threat from the Masterson family?"

"Unless the bad guys really want their sixteen million back."

"We don't know that it's the bad guys' sixteen million. Or that they know we have it. They may have been after Lorimer just to shut him up…"

"Or both," D'Allessando said. "Whack him and get their money back."

"Or both," Castillo admitted. "Anything happen here to suggest they're watching her?"

"Not a thing. We have taps on all the phones, including the cellulars. Nothing. And no tourists at the plantation, either."

"I'd like to tell her I think the threat is gone."

"And I'd like to take my guys back to the stockade," D'Allessando said. "They're getting a little antsy. I didn't tell them why they're here, and they're starting to think of themselves as babysitters. Thank God the widow-and Masterson's father-are such good people."

What had once been the military prison-the stockade-at Fort Bragg now held the barracks and headquarters of Delta Force, the elite, immediate-response Special Forces unit. The same barbed wire that had kept prisoners in now kept people without the proper clearances out.

"How're you doing with people from China Post?"

Many former Special Forces soldiers, Marine Force Recon, Navy SEALs, Air Commandos, and other warriors of this ilk belong to China Post 1 in exile (from Shanghai) of the American Legion. Those wishing to employ this sort of people in a civilian capacity often have luck finding just what they want at "China Post."

"I guess you know General McNab called them?"

Castillo nodded. "He told me he was going to."

"That helped. I've got eight guys, good guys-I guess they're getting a little tired of commuting to Iraq and Afghanistan-lined up. They're going to be expensive, but Masterson said that wasn't a problem."

"It's not. How soon can they be up and running?"

"Forty-eight hours, tops, and they'll be on the job."

"I want to run this whole thing past Masterson-and the widow-but I don't think they'll object. How about first thing in the morning getting that going?"

"This is first thing in the morning."

Castillo looked at his watch. "Half past four, which means it's half past ten in Germany. Which brings me to this."

He walked to the bar, picked up a telephone, and punched in a long series of numbers from memory. [FOUR] Executive Offices Gossinger Beteiligungsgesellschaft, G.m.b.H. Fulda, Hesse, Germany 1029 2 August 2005 Frau Gertrud Schroder, a stocky sixty-year-old who wore her blond hair in a bun, put her head in the office door of Otto Gorner, the managing director of Gossinger Beteiligungsgesellschaft, G.m.b.H. She had on a wireless headset.

"Karlchen is favoring you with a call," she announced, her hand covering the microphone.

"How kind of him," Gorner replied. He was a well-tailored sixty-year-old Hessian whose bulk and red cheeks made him look like a postcard Bavarian. As he reached for one of the telephones on his desk, he added, "Well, at least he's alive."

Frau Schroder walked to the desk and Gorner waved her into a chair opposite him.

"And how are things in South America?" Gorner said into the handset.

"I have no idea, I'm in Mississippi. And I'm fine. Thank you for asking."

"May I ask what you're doing in Mississippi?"

"I'm in Penthouse C of the Belle Vista Casino in Biloxi about to have steak and eggs for breakfast."

"Why do I suspect that for once you're telling me the truth?"

"But speaking of South America, you might take a look at the Reuters and AP wires from Uruguay starting about now."

"Really?"

"I think both you and Eric Kocian might be interested in what might come over the wire."

"Well, I'll keep an eye out, if you say so."

"It might be a good idea."

"Is that why you called, Karl, or is there something else on your mind?"

"Actually, there is. How much trouble would it be for Frau Schroder to open a bank account for me in the Liechtensteinische Landesbank in the Cayman Islands?"

"Why would you want to do something like that?"

"And put, say, ten thousand euros in it?"

"Why would you want to do something like that?" Gorner asked again.

"I've always been frugal. You know that, Otto. 'A penny saved,' as Benjamin Franklin said, 'is a penny earned.'"

"Gott!"

Frau Schroder shook her head and smiled. Gorner gave her a dirty look.

"And tell them to expect a rather large transfer of funds into the account in the next few days, please," Castillo said.

"I really hate to ask this question, but didn't you just say you're in the penthouse of a casino?"

"In the Belle Vista Casino."

"And did you put the penthouse on the Tages Zeitung's American Express card?"

"No. Actually, I'm staying here free."

"How much did you lose to get them to give you a free room? A penthouse suite?"

"Why do you think I lost?"

Gorner exhaled audibly.

"When do you want this bank account opened?"

"How about today?"

"If you're telling the truth-and I would be surprised if you are-and you're trying to hide money from the IRS, you're probably going to get caught."

"Thank you for your concern. Just have Frau Schroder open the account and e-mail me the number so I can make a deposit. I'll worry about getting the money out later."

"All right, Karl. But I wish I really knew what you're up to this time."

"I'll tell you the next time I see you."

"And when will that be?"

"Maybe soon. I'm going from here to see my grandmother and then I'll probably come over there."

"I hope I can believe that."

"Tell Frau Schroder thanks, Otto. I've got to run."

The line went dead.

Gorner put the handset in the cradle and Frau Schroder took off her headset.

"I wonder what that's all about?" he asked.

"Gambling? I never knew of his gambling."

"Not with money," Gorner said. "The last I heard, when he was in Budapest with Eric and me, he was going-they were all going-to Argentina."

"I wonder what we're supposed to find on the South American wires?"

"He said 'Uruguay' wires."

"I wonder what we're supposed to find on the 'Uruguay' wires?"

Gorner shrugged.

"Is there going to be any trouble with opening that account? Don't we have some money in the Liechtensteinische Landesbank?"

"Quite a bit, actually," she said. "I'll send them a wire and have them open an account for him. Shouldn't be any trouble at all." She paused. "The question is, though, in whose name do I open it?"