The Hostage (Presidential Agent 2)

"You're kidding!"

Castillo shook his head. "Uh-uh. Can you show me where Shangri-La is on a map?"

XVIII

[ONE] Nuestra Pequena Casa Mayerling Country Club Pilar, Buenos Aires Province, Argentina 1305 29 July 2005 Alex Darby-notified by the guards at the gate that his guests were arriving-was waiting at the door of the large, stucco house when Castillo, Britton, and Santini drove up.

"Come on in," he said. "Have any trouble finding it?"

"Just followed the signs," Castillo said. "'Our Little House'? Isn't that a little cutesy-poo for a safe house, Alex?" He looked around the foyer and the well-furnished living room. "And fancy. What's this place costing the agency?"

"There are safe houses and safe houses, Charley. This is a safe house, but not the agency's. I own it. I stole it."

"You own it?"

Darby didn't reply.

"Come on in, and we'll have some coffee. Unless you want something stronger?"

"I would love something very strong, but not now," Castillo said as they followed Darby into the living room and sat down around a coffee table.

"Get this, Charley," Darby said, and pointed under the coffee table.

Castillo saw him push a floor-mounted button with his shoe.

There was a faint tinkle of a bell, and a moment later a middle-aged woman in a maid's uniform appeared.

"Yes, sir?"

"Juanita, will you bring us some coffee, please?" Darby asked. "And some pastries?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very classy," Castillo said. "You said you own this place? Correction, you said you stole it."

"Both," Darby said. "What do you think a place like this is worth?"

"Half a million, anyway. Probably more, a lot more, with the panache of Mayerling attached."

"You heard what happened here a couple of years ago, the 'pesification'?"

"Special Agent Yung delivered a lecture on that just now in Carrasco."

"I'd been here a couple of months when that happened. Nobody had any dollars anymore. The government had just converted them to pesos, at a third-a fourth-of what they had been worth before. People were desperate for dollars; the bottom fell out of the real estate market. I paid a hundred and seventy-five grand for this."

"You did steal it," Castillo said. "And you live here?"

"I rent it to Cisco Systems. They pay me twelve thousand a month so the guy who runs things for them in the Southern Cone has a nice place to live, reflecting the prestige of Cisco Systems to the natives. He lets me use it when I need it."

He saw the look on Castillo's and Santini's faces. "You know what Cisco Systems does, right?"

"Data transfer? Something to do with the Internet?"

"Largest operators in both. Can you imagine how much goes over their nets that would be of interest to me?"

"This guy is undercover with the agency?"

"No. But he's a retired Signal Corps colonel. He used to work for IntelSat. From time to time he tells me things he's found interesting. And from time to time- like now-I ask him if I can borrow the place to get out of the city for a couple of days. Cisco maintains an apartment in the Alvear Plaza for visiting executives. So he and his wife stay at the Alvear for a couple of days, do the restaurants, go to the Colon, etcetera."