The Hunters (Presidential Agent 3)

Silvio smiled and shook his head.

“That’s why I sent Yung back down here, to cover our tracks,” Castillo said.

“You’ve heard he’s been shot?”

Castillo nodded.

“First, I flew to Paris, for a look at Lorimer’s apartment,” Castillo said. “It had been previously searched by the Deuxième Bureau, the UN, and our CIA guy. Nothing there. Then I went to Fulda, and cleared things up with Otto Görner. I told him what I was doing—and on whose authority—and that I wanted to be released from my promise not to share his files with the FBI and the CIA. He agreed and gave me all his files. Then I went to Budapest to get Eric Kocian to release me from my promise.

“He was perfectly willing to do so, primarily because parties unknown had tried to stick a needle in him on the Franz Joséf Bridge and, when that failed, shot him twice…”

“My God!”

“…at one o’clock the next morning…” Castillo’s voice trailed off, then he exclaimed, “My God, that was yesterday morning!”

“You were in Budapest yesterday morning?” Silvio asked in surprise, if not disbelief.

Castillo nodded.

“And at one o’clock yesterday morning, these people—this time, two bad guys—made another attempt to murder Kocian and to burn his apartment and whatever files he might have there.”

“You said ‘attempt’?” Silvio questioned.

“Eric was still in the hospital,” Castillo explained. “I was sleeping in the guest bedroom in his apartment. Eric’s dog woke me up. Instead of Kocian, they got me and a suppressed .22 that I had the foresight to get from the CIA armory at our embassy. Neither body had any identification on it, but the garrote they used on one of Kocian’s security men was a twin of the garrote used on Sergeant Kranz at the estancia. So it seems pretty evident we’re dealing with the same people.”

“Who are?”

“I’m beginning to think they’re either ex–East German Stasi or ex–Hungarian Allamvedelmi Hatosag—AVH—but I’m not sure of that and have no idea who they’re working for.”

“So Mr. Kocian and his files are all right? In your possession?”

“One copy of the files, sent in the diplomatic pouch from Budapest, should be in Washington by now. I’ve got another copy here. Eric Kocian is in the apartment on Avenida Arribeños.”

“You brought him with you? How did you get here so quickly?”

“Him and his dog and his bodyguard, an ex–Hungarian cop who did a tour in the French Foreign Legion.” Castillo chuckled. “I guess I didn’t get around to telling you that the Lorimer Trust was burning a hole in my pocket, so I bought a Gulfstream III with seven and a half million of it. Colonel Torine and my cousin Fernando flew it from Washington, spent about six hours in Budapest and then we flew here. Which may explain why I do feel a tinge of fatigue.”

“I’m surprised you’re able to walk around,” Silvio said.

“But not surprised I’m not making much sense?”

“You’re doing fine, Charley. So what are your plans here?”

“Alex Darby is right now renting a house for us at Mayerling in Pilar. The Lorimer Trust will reimburse him. Kocian thinks there’s a connection with Mayerling and German—or, more likely, Austrian and Hungarian—oil-for-food money. I don’t know, but Eric is right more often than he’s wrong.

“The idea was that I would put Kocian in the house and have Yung and him compare notes. They sent me a replacement for Sergeant Kranz—a friend of mine, Sergeant Major Jack Davidson—who has a lot of experience protecting people. We served in Afghanistan together.

“He brought with him Corporal Lester Bradley and I don’t know what the hell to do with him. Just put him out there with Davidson, I suppose. Darby will move Sergeant Kensington and his radio out to Mayerling as soon as he can. Somebody will have to sit on that around the clock. Lester can help with that.”

“And Colonel Munz?” Silvio said. “He’ll work with Yung and Mr. Kocian?”

“Now that he’s been shot, I don’t think Yung will want to be out there. And that brings up Colonel Munz.” He paused. “You beginning to understand why this inept juggler is worried about all the balls he has in the air?”

“So far, so good, Charley. You haven’t dropped any yet.”

“Stick around. It won’t be long,” Castillo said. “They call that the ‘Law of Inevitability.’”