W. Griffin - The Hostage

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.

A good deal less gently than Charley would have preferred, they transferred the body on the gurney to the hospital bed, and connected it to an array of wires and clear plastic tubing. It was only after the heavier of the two nurses had settled in a chair by the side of the bed- it looked as if she planned to be there for a while-that Charley could get close enough to the bed to get a look at Betty.

All of Betty's body but her face and one arm was wrapped in pale blue sheets, and most of her face was hidden under bandages. What he could see of it was grayish and looked distorted.

He felt woozy again.

The door swung open and Dr. Santa Claus waddled into the room. His surgical mask was hanging from his neck and his surgical blues were blood-spotted.

He smiled at Charley and held up both hands, balled into fists with the thumbs extended.

Then he saw Charley's face.

"Get out of that chair," he ordered the nurse, as he quickly and firmly led Charley to her chair and sat him down in it. "Put your head between your knees," he ordered, as he firmly shoved Charley's head into that position.

Charley had no idea how long he was in that position, for the next thing he became aware of was a vial of aromatic spirits of ammonia under his nose.

He pushed it away and sat up.

"Usually," Dr. Santa Claus observed dryly, his German accent subtle yet clearly evident, "I have to do that to husbands who insist on seeing the miracle of birth themselves. Are you all right?"

Charley felt Dr. Santa Claus's hands on his face, and then became aware that the surgeon was holding his eyes open, apparently to examine them. Then he answered his own question. "You're all right."

"Thank you," Castillo said, then: "How did the operation go?"

"Procedures, plural," the surgeon said. "The trauma to the wound in the patient's leg was far less severe than it could have been. There was some musculature damage, and she will find walking painful for some time.

"Vis-a-vis the wound in the groin area: I saw no damage of any consequence to the reproductive organs…"

What the fuck does that mean? "No damage of any consequence"?

"… and while the area will likely be quite painful for some time-contributing to the discomfort when the patient moves-I can see no indication that the patient will not fully recover."

Well, thank you, God, for that!

"The trauma to the patient's jaw is problematical. The initial trauma, plus the trauma caused by the removal of the projectile, which was rather deeply embedded, caused both fracturing and splintering. I have immobilized her jaw, which means she will not be able to take solid food for some time. Just as soon as Dr. Koos is available-"

"He's the fellow who's skiing?"

"Right. I'd like him to look at the patient."

"Doctor, I've arranged for an airplane to fly her to the United States as soon as she is able to travel. Can you tell me when that will be?"

The surgeon did not reply directly.

"There's a very good orthognathic surgeon at the University of Pennsylvania Hospital," he said. "Chap by the name of Rieger. William Rieger."

"What kind of a surgeon?"

"Orthognathic," the surgeon repeated. "Actually, something like this requires three specialists, an orthognathicist,a plastic reconstructive surgeon, and an orthodontist."

"May I have that doctor's name again? And would you spell 'orthognathic' for me?"

The surgeon corrected Castillo's botched pronunciation of the term, and then spelled it and the name of the physician at the University of Pennsylvania. Castillo wrote it down.

"She should be able to travel, presuming she will be accompanied by a physician and a nurse, sometime tomorrow. I will prepare a package-her X-rays, a report of the procedures she has undergone, a record of her pharmacology, et cetera-and have it available for you."

"Thank you."

"I presume you intend to stay with her until she wakes up?"