Black Ops

then, if you can get him, you can find out from him who actually attacked you and your family.”

“You find out who he is—or she is—and I’ll get him,” Duffy said.

“I’ll do my best, Liam.”

Munz, Sparkman, Davidson, and Bradley walked up to them.

“Nice flight, Lester?”

“I was never in first class before, sir,” Bradley said.

“Well, that was certainly a mistake. We’ll take the difference out of your pay.”

Bradley recoiled at that, but it didn’t take him long to realize he was having his chain pulled.

“Do you have a pistol, Lester?”

“No, sir.”

“Get him one, Jack,” Castillo ordered. “Make sure Little Red Under Britches sees you give it to him—and that she sees you chambering a round, Lester.”

“Yes, sir,” Bradley said. “Little Red—what did you say, sir?”

“The lady in the car is a SVR officer, Les. A lieutenant colonel. I don’t think she’ll try to run away—she’ll have no idea where we will be, and I have all of her identification in my briefcase—but she may. I don’t want her dead.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I just happen to have one with me,” Davidson said, and took a Colt Model 1911A1 from the small of his back. He handed it to Bradley. “There’s already one in the chamber.”

“Yes, Sergeant Major,” Bradley said politely, then with speed and precision that visibly astonished the gendarmes, he ejected the magazine, worked the action to eject the round in the chamber, caught it on the fly, examined the pistol to make sure the chamber was indeed empty, fed the just-ejected round to the magazine, fed the magazine to the pistol, let the slide slam home, carefully lowered the hammer to de-cock it, and finally slipped the pistol under his belt on the small of his back.

“He’s usually much faster than that,” Davidson said with a straight face.

“Bradley—” Castillo began.

“May I see you a moment, please, Colonel?” Alfredo Munz interrupted.

Castillo followed him toward the Aero Commander.

Duffy’s face showed that he didn’t like Munz and Castillo having a private conversation.

But there doesn’t seem to be anything that can be done about it.

Munz, his back to Duffy, immediately proved him wrong.

“Take out some money, and count out a lot of it, and hand it to me,” Munz said. “I’m making it seem like I don’t want Liam to see.”

Castillo didn’t hesitate.

“Charley, I think I had better go with you to Bariloche,” Munz said.

“I can handle her, Alfredo.”

“And I can handle Liam’s gendarmes in Bariloche,” Munz said, “who I suspect are going to try to be far more helpful than you want them to be.”

Munz put the money in his pocket, laid a hand on Castillo’s shoulder in thanks for the cash, and led him back to the others.

“Colonel,” Sparkman said, and handed him a flight plan. “Perfect weather all the way.”

“Thank you,” Castillo said.

And what happens to you, Dick, if—when—the worst scenario happens?

That would effectively end your Air Force career. Getting shot down in flames for your association with the disgraced OOA will be even worse for you than your association with the Air Commandos.

“Colonel,” Davidson said, “I put an AFC device aboard.”

“Thank you.”

Munz handed Davidson the wad of hundred-dollar bills Castillo had given him.

Duffy’s face showed he wondered what the hell that was all about.

“Lester,” Castillo ordered, “go with Colonel Munz and put the lady in a backseat in the airplane.”

“Yes, sir.”

As she walked past him, Lieutenant Colonel Alekseeva asked Castillo if she could ask where they were going.

He didn’t reply.

[FOUR]

The Llao Llao Resort Hotel

San Carlos de Bariloche

Rio Negro Province, Argentina

1625 30 December 2005

The manager of the luxury resort—who was attired in a tailcoat and striped trousers—met them at the front door, shook Munz’s hand, ignored everybody else, and led them through the lobby—where a dozen employees were engaged in changing the holiday decorations from Christmas to New Year’s—then to the elevator bank, and on to a top-floor suite.

“This will do nicely, thank you,” Munz said after examining the four rooms. “I will need keys for all the doors, of course.”

The manager handed him a dozen keys on a ring.

“The boat is available at the dock, Colonel,” he said, bowed his head, and left.

“May I use the restroom?” Svetlana asked.

Munz pointed to a door.

“Wait outside for her, Bradley,” Castillo ordered. “If she tries to get away, try not to shoot her, but . . .”

“Yes, sir.”

Svetlana did not look at Castillo as she walked past him. Max walked after both of them. Castillo set the puppy on the floor, where he immediately followed his father to the bathroom door, then raised his leg against the leg of a small table and puddled the carpet.

“I wonder where he gets it all,” Castillo said, almost admiringly.

“You’re taking him with you?” Munz asked.

Castillo nodded.

“He’s for Elena. For her and Sergei and Aleksandr, but primarily for her.”

Munz nodded.

“I’d like to think I’m doing that simply to be a nice guy,” Castillo said. “But I’m not sure if it’s not because it will get to Pevsner.”

“I like the kids, too,” Munz said. “And I know you’re a nice guy, whether or not you like to admit it.”

Castillo looked at him but remained silent.

And what happens to you, Alfredo, when the worst scenario comes down?

A nice settlement payment, of course, but what about after that?

Munz pulled back his jacket, revealing a revolver in a high-mount hip holster.

Castillo recognized the offer and shook his head. “I go in peace. And I would be heavily outgunned, anyway.”

“Well, don’t worry about Mata Hari. I can deal with her,” Munz said, then smiled and added, “Or if I can’t, Lester can.”

Castillo chuckled.

She’s figured that out. She may be curious about Lester, but she saw that very professional display of pistol handling, and as a pistoleer herself, she knows that there is a very strong chance she will be wounded seriously with a heavy-caliber bullet if she tries to run.