The Hunters (Presidential Agent 3)

She’s right. I do need boys like Fernando’s, and a wife—a family.

He watched Abuela until the road curved and then he thought of Betty Schneider.

Maybe the time has come. God knows I’ve never felt about any other woman the way I feel about Betty.

IV

[ONE]

Washington Dulles International Airport

Dulles, Virginia

2340 3 August 2005

Castillo smiled when he came out of the Jetway and entered the terminal. There waiting for him was indeed a heavily armed man wearing a strained smile. He was standing behind a wheelchair on which sat, one leg supported vertically in front of him, Major H. Richard Miller, Jr.

He wondered for a moment how they’d got into the security area, then felt a little foolish when the answer came to him: Wave your Secret Service credentials and you can go anywhere in an airport you want.

“Mr. Castillo,” the Secret Service agent said, “Major Miller said he didn’t think you would have any checked baggage.”

That’s interesting. Mister Castillo and Major Miller. We’re both majors. And this guy has to know that.

What did Dick say on the phone? “Get used to it, hotshot. You now really are a hotshot.”

“I don’t,” Castillo said, smiling. He put out his hand. “I don’t think we’ve met, have we? I’m Charley Castillo.”

The Secret Service agent gave him a firm but very quick handshake, and said, “Special Agent Dulaney, sir.”

Castillo looked at Miller and saw that he was smiling at him.

Special Agent Dulaney spoke to his lapel microphone.

“Don Juan is out. No luggage. We’re on our way.”

“I’ll push the cripple, Dulaney,” Castillo said.

“Yes, sir. The Yukon’s right outside, sir.”

“What happened to the Pride of the Marine Corps?” Miller asked as they moved through the airport.

“Vic D’Allessando arranged to stash him at Bragg until I figure out what to do with him.”

“How much help do you need to get into this?” Castillo asked when they were at the Yukon.

“None. But you can put the wheelchair in,” Miller said.

He came nimbly off the wheelchair, stood on one leg, pulled the door open, and then sort of dove into the rear. Castillo saw that the middle seat had been folded flat against the floorboard, and, when he looked again, Miller was already sitting up in the far backseat, his leg stretched out in front of him on the folded down seat.

“Now is when you put the wheelchair in,” Miller said.

“Can I help you with that, sir?” Special Agent Dulaney asked.

“I’m all right, thanks,” Castillo said, some what struggling with collapsing the wheelchair.

Sixty seconds later, Miller asked, “You’re not very good at that, are you?”

“There’s a lever on the side here, sir, that lets you fold it,” Special Agent Dulaney said. “Let me show you.”