The Hunters (Presidential Agent 3)

Castillo didn’t immediately reply, then he said, “I work for the President, Eric.”

“Directly?”

Castillo nodded.

“And he’s ordered the agency—and everybody else in the intelligence community—to tell me anything I want to know and give me whatever I ask for.”

Kocian met his eyes for a moment, then nodded, then pointed at Castillo’s laptop.

“Either your encryption process is awfully slow or your machine is not working.”

“It’s a little slow but very good.” He looked at the screen. “Ninety-one percent encrypted.”

“Well, while we’re waiting I’ll get packed. It’s winter in Argentina now, right?”

“Yeah, but don’t put on long underwear. We have to go to Equatorial Africa before we go to South America.”

It was a little after twelve before all the errands had been run and they made their way to Ferihegy International Airport.

Castillo didn’t think it would be likely that anyone would be looking for Billy Kocian at the airport or keeping the Gulfstream under observation, but he decided nevertheless that the smart way to get the old man on the airplane was to take him there in an unmarked van from the Tages Zeitung. With a little bit of luck, he and Sándor Tor could rush Kocian up the steps and get him and Max aboard unnoticed while the luggage and in flight rations were being loaded.

Just before they went to the airport, Castillo had Kocian’s Mercedes brought to the loading dock in the basement of the Gellért. With one of the Tages Zeitung security men at the wheel and another behind the darkened windows in the backseat, the car took off for Vienna.

There was no way of telling, of course, if the bastards who had tried to whack Kocian were surveilling the Gellért, but if they were they just might follow the Mercedes. They might also try something with the car once it was on the highway. Castillo almost hoped they would: He had given the security men the Madsens the Stasi—or whoever the hell the bastards were—had brought to the hotel to use on Kocian. And he hadn’t had to show them how to use them.

As the Mercedes pulled away from the loading dock, they had shaken hands with Otto Görner, who was going to stay in Budapest for at least a day before returning to Fulda, and then gotten in the van.

Billy Kocian, surprising Castillo, had not objected to traveling in the van, and surprised him again once they were aboard the Gulfstream by taking without question the air-sick pill Dr. Czerny had provided. Deceiving the old man had made Castillo feel a little ashamed.

Jake Torine and Fernando Lopez, who had ridden to the airport in a taxi, came up the stair door two minutes after the van had driven off.

“Everything okay, Charley?” Torine asked.

“If you’ve filed the flight plan and remembered to get the weather, it is.”

“There is one small problem,” Fernando said.

“Which is?”

“I know American Express boasts that there’s no spending limit,” Fernando said. “

But what happens if they err on the side of caution and call the office and ask if I really filled the tanks on this thing in Baltimore, Frankfurt, and then here? They’re used to charges for fueling the Lear, not a Gulfstream, and not in Europe. And not nearly as much fuel. They’re liable to suspect that somebody’s using my Amex numbers.”

“Shit!” Castillo said. “Good point. Well, the damage is done. From here on, we’ll use my card and then when we get to Buenos Aires I’ll call Dick and have him write a check on the Lorimer Charitable and Benevolent Fund to your account at American Express.”

“I think we ought to do something,” Fernando said.

“Agreed,” Castillo said. “Jake, do you want me to sit in the right seat now and take over once we’re wheels-up?”

“I want you to sit in the left seat now,” Torine said. “Preliminary flight instruction will begin immediately.”

“Ferihegy Departure Control clears Gulfstream Three-Seven-Niner for takeoff. Climb to flight level thirty-one thousand on a course of two-three-five degrees. Contact Zagreb Area Control on two-three-three-point-five when passing through twenty thousand.”

“Three-Seven-Niner understands number one to go,” Torine replied. “Climb to thirty-one thousand on two-three-five. Report to Zagreb Area Control on two-three-three-point-five when passing through twenty thousand.”

“Affirmative.”

Castillo pushed the throttles forward.