By Order of the President (Presidential Agent 1)

“I figured.”

“Okay,” Betty said to the telephone. “On the south side, in five minutes. Thanks, Tom.”

She broke the connection, dropped the cellular into her purse, and pulled away from the curb.

“Tom’s sending a Highway car to North Philadelphia Station. They’ll take you to the Warwick and out to the airport. ”

“Thank you.”

There was nothing that looked like a Highway Patrol car near the North Philadelphia Station when they got there.

Betty drove the BMW to an unlit area, stopped, and turned the headlights off.

A moment later, two cars pulled into the area beside the station.

“There’s your Highway car,” Betty said. “And, more than likely, Tom.”

Betty flashed the headlights once.

“Do I go there or will they come here?”

“You start walking, and when they see you . . .”

“You’ve been great, Betty. Thank you very much.”

“And I’ll take care of Dick,” she said. “Don’t worry.”

And then their faces were close.

And then she moved her face even closer and he felt her lips—warm and soft—on his.

Not chaste, Castillo thought. And certainly not passionate. Something in between. Tender.

“Jesus!” he said.

“Yeah, Jesus,” Betty said, softly. “I really didn’t mean for that to happen.”

Castillo touched her cheek with the pads of his fingers but made no attempt to kiss her again.

“Go, Charley,” Betty said.

He moved his head quickly and kissed her again. She responded for a moment, then averted her head.

“Go, Charley,” she said. “Please.”

He got out of the car and walked toward the railroad station.

One of the Highway cars started toward him. He stopped walking and waited. The car drove right past him. The second car moved toward him and stopped next to him.

Castillo got in and pulled the door shut.

There was a barrier between the front and rear seats. The upholstery in the back was of heavy plastic material.

A very large, very black police officer wearing a brimmed cap that seemed several sizes too small for him turned in the seat as the car started to move.

&n

bsp; “The Warwick and then the airport, right?” he asked.