W. Griffin - The Hostage

"Hello, Vic," Castillo said, offering his hand to CWO- 5 Victor D'Allessando, Special Forces, USA, Retired.

"Just like old times, Charley," D'Allessando said. "You get yourself in the deep doo-doo, and McNab sends me to haul you out."

"You're running this?"

D'Allessando motioned for Torine and Charley to step over to a spot in the shadow of the Globemaster's wing where he could speak without being overheard. "Yeah, I am," he said.

"Boy, am I glad to hear that!" Castillo exclaimed. "What have you got?"

"Twenty-four shooters, mostly Delta, and a few guys from Gray Fox."

"I saw Sergeant Orson," Castillo said. "Actually, Colonel Torine saw him. Oh, hell, excuse me. Colonel, this is an old buddy of mine, Vic D'Allessando. I thought you'd know each other."

"Why do I think you're not wearing your green beret, Vic?" Torine said with a smile.

"I hung the fucker up, Colonel, after twenty-seven years. They medically retired me as a CWO-5. Now I'm a goddamn double-dipping civilian. GS-15, assimilated full fucking bird colonel."

"Who runs the stockade at Fort Bragg," Castillo said.

"I know it well," Torine said, smiling.

"Now I know who you are, Colonel," D'Allessando said. "You're the Air Commando who we used to fly our 727-"

"Almost correct," Torine replied. "Former Air Commando. When they made me a full fucking colonel, they paroled me from the stockade and put me behind a desk."

"… from which McNab rescued you when Charley was looking for that stolen 727. You went with Charley to Costa Rica and flew it back to the States after Charley and some of my guys stole it back from the bad guys."

"Guilty," Torine said.

"And he's in on this operation, Vic," Castillo said.

"Welcome aboard," D'Allessando said, smiling and offering his hand.

"What have you got going, Vic?"

"In detail? Or just the highlights?"

"In detail."

"Okay. Naylor called McNab and told him that your boss, Hall, had called him and said the President wanted either Delta or Gray Fox or both to make sure nothing else happened to the Mastersons when they got here. I almost had to tie McNab down to keep him from coming here himself."

Castillo and Torine chuckled.

"So we saddled up. Like I said, twenty-four shooters, mostly Delta but with four guys from Gray Fox. We got two Black Hawks and two Little Birds from the 160th. Both Little Birds are gunships-we can move everybody on the Black Hawks, but you never know when you're going to have to pop somebody. Then we came here.

"The guy running things is Masterson's father. Big tall drink of water. The widow's father-they call him 'the ambassador,' which I guess he was-is a little guy who almost went out with a heart attack. So they're trying to keep him in the dark as much as possible.

"Masterson's father has a great big farm not far from here. No airstrip, but no problem with the choppers. They're going to bury Masterson in a cemetery on the farm, after a mass in a little Catholic church in a little dorf called De Lisle, right outside the farm property. They wanted to have a big deal with the funeral, but the old man-Masterson's father-told them no way.

"What's going to happen here, after the President does his thing, is take the body out to the farm in a hearse. Funeral's by invitation only, but they expect maybe three hundred people at the cemetery."

"Can you handle that many people?"

"I'm not going to have to. The old man mobilized the Mississippi State Police. There's about fifty of them, under a lieutenant colonel. And the head man, a colonel-tough bastard-is here as a friend of the family. So's the governor. Plus of course the sheriff and all his deputies."

"You don't see any problems in protecting the family?"

"No," D'Allessando said flatly. "But it would help, Charley, if I knew who popped Masterson and why, and why they may try to pop the widow and the family."

"I'll tell you what I know, Vic. It's not much. I have no idea who these people are. None. All I know is that it has something to do with Mrs. Masterson's brother. She-just now, after we landed here-told me that the people who grabbed her in Buenos Aires want her to tell them where her brother is, and promised to kill her children and family."

"And she didn't tell them?"

"She doesn't know where he is. He works for the UN in Paris, but we can't find him."

"Interesting."

"She said they killed Masterson to make the point that they meant what they said."

"And you have no idea why they want the brother?"

"No. All I know is they shot Masterson with Israeli-made nine-millimeter cartridges, and killed the Marine sergeant driving my car-and wounded a female Secret Service agent in the car-by sticking one of those through the window and emptying the magazine, also loaded with Israeli-made nine-millimeters."

"With a Madsen?"

Castillo nodded.

"How do you know that?"

"I think Sergeant Markham saw it coming, and as he tried to move out of the way, pushed the window-up button. It was automatic, and caught the Madsen. It was still in the window when I got there."

"That's interesting, too. There's not too many Madsens around. And that's all you know?"

"And I just now learned, in a sixty-second conversation with Mrs. Masterson, about Masterson getting whacked to make the point that they want the brother at any cost."

"Somebody's going to have to talk to her some more," D'Allessando said.

"I know. I don't know how much time there will be now, but that's why I'm here."

"Who's in charge?"

"I am."

"I mean, now that they're in the States. And after the funeral?"

"I am, Vic."

"No shit?"

"The President just told me."

"That's stretching your envelope some, isn't it, Charley?"

"Understatement of the year," Castillo replied. "I'd like to introduce you to Mrs. Masterson, Vic. See if you can reassure her that she's safe now."

"I want to meet her, too," D'Allessando said. "Now?"

Castillo nodded.

D'Allessando spoke to a lapel microphone Castillo had not noticed.

"Three coming through the side door," he announced. [FOUR] Lieutenant Colonel McElroy, the aide to the commander in chief, was standing at the foot of the steps to the passenger compartment of the Globemaster.

"Sir," he said, when he saw Castillo and the others coming, "the Masterson family is alone up there."

"My name is Castillo. Would you please go up and tell Mrs. Masterson I'd like a brief word with her?"

"Sir, Mrs. Masterson asked that the family not be disturbed."

"Do it, Colonel," Colonel Torine ordered.

"Yes, sir," Lieutenant Colonel McElroy said, and started up the stairs.

Castillo looked down the cargo compartment of the Globemaster. Corporal Lester Bradley, now wearing his dress blue uniform, was standing almost at attention while talking to a Marine captain.

Castillo walked to them.

"You look very spiffy, Corporal," Castillo said.

"Thank you, sir."

"Captain, what's Corporal Bradley's role in the ceremony?"

"May I ask who you are, sir?"

"My name is Castillo."

"Phrased another way, Captain," Colonel Torine added, "he's the man."

The captain looked at them curiously, and then replied to Torine: "Sir, immediately after the ceremony, when the sergeant's remains are taken from the hangar, the corporal will meet up with the cask-"

"Captain," Castillo interrupted. "I told the gunny in Buenos Aires that Corporal Bradley will accompany Sergeant Markham's remains all the way home. I'm sure he passed that on to Sergeant Markham's buddies. I want that to happen. Make room for him in the ceremony."

"Sir, I'm not sure that will be poss-"

"Do it, Captain," Colonel Torine ordered flatly.

The captain considered that just long enough for it to be perceptible, then said, "Aye, aye, sir."