“Ground control said take this until a FOLLOW ME meets us,” Fernando said.
Castillo looked out the window again.
There was no FOLLOW ME vehicle in sight, but there was a ground handler waving his wands in the “keep coming” signal. As Castillo watched, the ground handler—now walking backward toward the opening doors of a hangar—made a “turn right” signal with his wands. When Fernando turned the Lear toward the hangar, he immediately got the “stop” and “shut down” signals.
“This is probably where Delta keeps its 727,” Castillo said.
Confirmation of that came almost immediately. A tug backed out of the hangar. Two soldiers, wearing green berets and slinging their sidearms in shoulder holsters, hooked up the Lear to the tug, which then pulled it into the hangar. The doors immediately began to close.
Castillo saw Captain Harry Brewster and Vic D’Alessandro standing by the door of an interior office in the hangar.
“I’m impressed with your airplane, Charley,” D’Alessandro said, greeting him with a handshake and a pat on the shoulder. “Where the hell did you get it?”
“Alamo Rent-A-Plane,” Castillo responded. “Why are we in the hangar?”
“We got an en route call from General McNab, Charley—he’s somewhere over the Atlantic, about three hours out—saying he wants to see you ASAP when he gets here. I figured it would be quicker here than to go to the stockade. The Globemaster will come here as soon as it lands to off-load the backup guys.”
"He say why?”
D’Alessandro shook his head.
Fernando and Sergeant Sherman got out of the Lear and walked up to them.
“This is my cousin, Fernando Lopez,” Castillo said.
“He’s driving the airplane?” D’Alessandro asked.
“It’s his airplane.”
“How much did you have to tell him?”
“Just about everything.”
“Pity,” D’Alessandro said, straight-faced. “Now I’ll have to kill him.”
Then he smiled and put out his hand.
“Charley and I go back a long way,” D’Alessandro said.
“I know,” Fernando said. “He told me if you even looked as if you might give me trouble, I was to shoot you—twice— in the nuts.”
D’Alessandro smiled, broadly.
“I like him, Charley,” he said. “But I’ll probably kill him anyway.”
“You have anything else for me, Vic?” Castillo asked.
D’Alessandro shook his head. Captain Brewster said, “No, sir.”
“I need some sack time,” Castillo said. “I passed out in the airplane. And I have to change out of the uniform. Any problem taking Fernando to the VIP quarters?”
“No, sir,” Brewster said.
“You live on the post, Sergeant Sherman?” Castillo asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t see any problem with you going home for a couple of hours. Give me your quarters number, and be prepared to be back here on thirty minutes’ notice. Leave the radio on the airplane.”