The Hostage (Presidential Agent 2)

"I think I'll wait until I get to a hospital," Munz said.

"Your call, Alfredo," Castillo said. "But how are you going to explain the wound? And if Kensington says he can get it out, he can."

"No offense, but that looks to me like a job for a surgeon."

"Kensington has removed more bullets and other projectiles than most surgeons," Castillo said. "Before he decided he'd rather shoot people than treat them for social disease, he was an A-Team medic. Which meant… what's that line, Kensington?"

"That I was 'qualified to perform any medical procedure other than opening the cranial cavity,'" Kensington quoted. "I can numb that, give you a happy pill, and clean it up and get the bullet out. It would be better for you than waiting-the sooner you clean up a wound like that, the better-and that'd keep you from answering questions at a hospital. But what are you going to tell your wife?"

"Lie, Alfredo," Castillo said. "Tell her you were shot by a jealous husband."

"What she's going to think is that I was cleaning my pistol and it went off, and I'm embarrassed," Munz said. "But I'd rather deal with that than answer official questions. How long will I be out?"

"You won't be out long, but you'll be in la-la land for a couple of hours."

"Okay, do it," Munz said.

"Well, let's get you to your feet and onto something flat where there's some light," Kensington said. He looked at Castillo, and between them they got Munz to his feet.

"There's a big table in the dining room that ought to work," Kensington said. "It looks like everybody got here just in time for dinner. There's a plate of good-looking roast beef on it. And a bottle of wine."

"Okay on the beef," Castillo said. "Nix on the wine. We have to figure out what to do next and get out of here."

"Major, who the fuck are these bad guys?" Kensington asked.

"I really don't know. Yung is searching the bodies to see what he can find out. I don't even know what happened."

"Well, they're pros, whoever they are. Maybe Russians? Krantz was no amateur, and they got him. With a fucking garrote. That means they had to (a) spot him, and (b) sneak up on him. A lot of people have tried that on Seymour and never got away with it."

"Spetsnaz?" Castillo said. "If this were anywhere in Europe, I'd say maybe, even probably. But here? I just don't know. We'll take the garrote and whatever else Yung comes up with and see if we can learn something."

When they got to the dining room, Kensington held Munz up while Castillo moved the Chateaubriand, the sauce pitcher, the bread tray, and the wine to a sideboard. Then he sat him down on the table.

"Tell me, physician," Munz said. "What would the effect of wine be on this happy pill you're about to give me?"

Kensington went to the sideboard and picked it up. "Cabernet sauvignon," he said. "There is a strong body of medical opinion which suggests this is indicated in a procedure of this nature. You want a glass?"

"Yes, please," Munz said.

Kensington poured wine in the glass and handed it to Munz.

"Take these with it," he said, putting two white gel capsules on the table. "And when you start to feel a little woozy-it usually takes about a minute-just lie down. I'm a little surprised you're not in pain."

"What makes you think I'm not?" Munz asked as he tossed the capsules into his mouth and then picked up the wineglass.

"You won't be out for long," Kensington said.

"What happened out there, physician?" Munz asked.

"The first thing I knew that anything was wrong was when I heard the Remington go off. And God forgive me, what I thought then was that the goddamn kid was playing with the rifle and it went off. So I ran around the side of the building to chew him a new asshole. And that's when I saw the two guys. One of them was on the ground and the other was pointing a Madsen at me-"

"A Madsen?" Castillo asked.

"Yeah. That mean something?"

"It might," Castillo said.

"And I had just decided, Oh, shit, he's got me, when another 7.62 round went off. Down he went. Two shots from the kid. Both in the head. The little sonofabitch can shoot. He saved my ass. And yours, too. The first one he popped was the guy who stuck his Madsen into the office window. Bradley told me he waited until he was sure what he was up to before he popped him."