The Hostage (Presidential Agent 2)

"Please return to your seat, sir, and don't interfere with the flight crew in the performance of their duties."

"What's wrong with the goddamn airplane?"

Colonel Torine took pity on him.

"You really didn't want to go to Paris without saying goodbye to your girlfriend, did you, Charley?"

Castillo didn't reply.

"Does it make any real difference if we get to Paris at four in the morning, or five?" Torine went on. "I'll top off the tanks, get us something to eat en route, get the weather, and file the flight plan to Gander while the Secret Service runs you back and forth to the hospital."

When Castillo didn't reply to that, either, at least partially because he didn't trust himself to speak with the enormous lump in his throat, Torine went on: "Tom McGuire called and set it up."

Castillo laid a hand on Torine's shoulder, and then got off his knees and went back to his seat. [FOUR] Department of Oral and Maxillofacial Surgery Fifth Floor, Silverstein Pavilion Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania 3400 Spruce Street Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 1340 26 July 2005 As the Secret Service Yukon pulled up outside the hospital, the agent sitting beside the driver spoke into the microphone under his lapel.

"Don Juan arriving."

Fernando chuckled. Castillo gave him the finger. He wondered, now that he had been given a hell of a lot of power, if it would be enough to have the Secret Service change the code name Joel Isaacson had given him when he'd gone to work for Secretary Hall.

The Secret Service agent led them to the elevator bank, waved them inside, and then said, "Fifth floor, Mr. Castillo. We'll be right here."

A tall, stocky woman-visibly some kind of Latin- was standing in the lobby of the fifth floor when the elevator door opened. Her hair was drawn tight against her skull, and Castillo could see the flesh-colored speaker in her ear. He could also see a bulge on her left hip that was almost certainly a handgun.

"This way, please, Mr. Castillo. Special Agent Schneider has been put in five-twenty-seven."

"Muchas gracias," Castillo said. "Muy amable de su parte."

It wasn't hard to find room 527. There were two law enforcement officers sitting in folding chairs on either side of the door. One was wearing the motorcyclist's boots and other special uniform items of the Philadelphia Police Department's elite highway patrol. The other was a large and burly man in civilian clothing with the telltale ear speaker of the Secret Service in his ear.

As Castillo got close to the room, both of them stood.

Castillo glanced to his left and saw a glass-walled waiting room. There were more than a half dozen people in it. Castillo recognized three of them as Philadelphia police officers: Chief Inspector Fritz Kramer, the commander of the counterterrorism bureau; Captain Frank O'Brien, who headed the intelligence and organized crime unit and for whom Betty Schneider had worked as a sergeant; and Lieutenant Frank Schneider of the highway patrol, who was Betty's big and, it could be reasonably argued, somewhat overprotective brother.

There were also a couple who Castillo decided were Betty's parents, a clergyman, and several other people.

Well, what the hell did you expect? That it would be just the two of you?

He had what he realized was the vain hope that no one in the waiting room would see him.

The Secret Service agent at the door said, "Special Agent Schneider is in X-ray, Mr. Castillo. She should be back any moment. There's a waiting room…" He pointed.

"Any reason we can't wait in there?"

"No, sir."

Castillo and Fernando entered the room. The bed was mussed, but Castillo could see no other sign that Betty had been in the room.

And I didn't see Jack Britton in that waiting room. Where the hell is he?

He walked to the window and looked out into an interior courtyard, and turned only when he sensed the door to the room was opening.

Betty was wheeled in on a gurney. She didn't see Castillo until the technicians had moved her from the gurney onto the bed and moved out of the way.

Then she raised her hand and almost moaned, "Oh, Charley!" through her wired-shut jaws.

Castillo went to the bed and took her raised hand, and kissed it, and then bent over and kissed her very gently on the forehead. Then they just looked at each other.

Thirty seconds or so later, he took a chance that his voice would work.