The Hostage (Presidential Agent 2)

"My dad is chief engineer for Castillo Properties," Solez said with pride. "Everything but the petroleum side."

Britton looked at him and nodded.

"Okay," Castillo went on, "from the time Special Agent Schneider gets out of the operating room until I can get her the hell out of here, I want one or the other, preferably both, sitting on her."

"You got it," Britton said. Solez nodded.

"There will be SIDE people with you, of course," Munz said.

Both Britton and Solez nodded.

Castillo turned to the Marine corporal and looked closely at him for the first time. He was no more than five feet four or five and weighed no more than one-forty. He looked to be about seventeen years old.

I thought Marines on embassy duty had to be five-eleven and one-eighty or better. Where did this little guy come from?

Oh, yeah. Rule of War Thirteen B: "Every military organization with an authorized strength of two or more men will have a designated paper pusher."

This little guy is the Marine guard detachment clerk, pressed into duty as a driver.

"You're the driver, right, Corporal?"

The corporal came to attention.

"No, sir. The driver is with the car, sir. The gunny instructed me to tell you, sir, that an armored car was not immediately available, and to suggest you take appropriate precautions until one can be found for you."

"Okay."

"My name is Corporal Lester Bradley, sir. I am your bodyguard, sir."

For a moment there was silence, and then Jack Britton was suddenly overwhelmed with a coughing fit. Colonel Munz, his face turned red, and DEA Special Agent Solez became suddenly fascinated with the X-rays on display.

Major C. G. Castillo-after covering his mouth with his hand so it would not be obvious he was biting his lip as hard as he could; one chuckle, the hint of a giggle, from him, or anyone else, would trigger something close to hysterics in everybody-finally decided he could trust his voice.

"Well, I'm glad to have you, Corporal," he said. "I know how reliable the Marines are."

"Semper fi, sir," Corporal Lester Bradley said sincerely.

Colonel Munz turned from his examination of the X-rays, and probably not trusting himself to speak, signaled with a nod of his head toward the door that he wanted a private word with Castillo.

"Excuse me a minute, guys. I'll be right back," Castillo said, and followed Munz into the corridor.

Munz put his hand on Castillo's arm.

"Now that you're under the protection of the U.S. Corps of Marines, Karl, would you mind if I left you?"

"Don't underestimate the Marines, Alfredo. They're nice people to have in your corner."

"Are they all like that boy?"

"They are not often troubled with self-doubt," Charley said.

"And neither should you be, Karl," Munz said seriously. "I've been practicing our trade for a while, and I have met very few people with your natural talent for it."

"I take that as a great compliment, Alfredo."

"It was meant as one. Listen to me, Karl. Don't let what happened in there bother you…"

He means my almost taking a dive.