The Hunters (Presidential Agent 3)

“Will you require fuel or any other service?”

“We just need to top off the tanks. And we’d like to take some food for the flight.”

The officer gestured at the van.

“The food has been arranged for,” the officer said.

“Thank you,” Castillo said.

By that goddamned over efficient Yung!

“And we can have a fuel truck sent out quickly,” the officer said. “Please come again and stay longer,” he added, smiling, then went down the door stairs with the other official following.

Castillo went to the cockpit.

“Jake, no formalities. Just file a flight plan.”

“Where the hell are our passengers?” Torine wondered aloud.

“I don’t know. First things first: file the flight plan.”

By the time Torine reached the doorway, the Airport Gourmet truck had backed up to it, so close that when the doors in the rear swung open they almost touched the fuselage.

Dammit! Torine thought. Careful near the aircraft!

A man in a business suit leaped nimbly from the truck into the Gulfstream.

“¡Buenos tardes!” he said, cheerfully, then looked at the distance between the truck and where he stood, shook his head in disappointment, and went down the stairs. He stood at the rear of the truck and held up his hands, as if to catch someone.

A young girl jumped down. She kissed the man on the cheek, then looked at Castillo, as if asking for permission to climb the stair door steps.

Castillo thought, That has to be Alfredo’s youngest daughter.

He smiled and waved her onto the plane.

In short order, another young woman and then an older one jumped from the truck, kissed the man in the suit, and came onto the airplane. The man then climbed the stairs, looked around the cabin, and went in.

“Just to be careful, I think we’d better close these,” he said and pulled down the curtains over the windows beside the couches.

FBI Special Agent William D. Yung, Jr., jumped from the truck into the airplane.

“You are going to tell me what’s going on, right?” Castillo asked Yung.

“Colonel Castillo, this is Chief Inspector Ordóñez,” Yung said, gesturing to the man in the suit.

Jesus Christ, what the hell’s the matter with Yung introducing me by name? And by rank?

Ordóñez smiled at Castillo, put out his hand, and said, “Let me express my gratitude to you, Colonel, for doing what you are doing for the family of our mutual friend, Alfredo.”

Castillo shook the hand but didn’t reply.

Ordóñez turned to Torine.

“You’re the pilot?”

Torine nodded.

“Operations is right over there,” Ordóñez said, pointing. “I suggest that you file to Porto Alegre, Brazil. That will attract far less attention than a destination farther north.”