The Shooters (Presidential Agent 4)

"God, you just don't stop, do you?"

"Are we back to the apology, or have I said something that's changed your mind?"

"You're making it hard, but I haven't changed my mind."

"Are you familiar with Ed McMahon, the entertainer, Miss Wilson?"

"Can you call me 'Beth'?"

"Obviously, I can. The questions would seem to be Will I? and/or Why should I?"

"Because it would make things easier for me. And, yes, I know who McMahon is. Why?"

"Because, Beth-"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Beth. Mr. McMahon said that drink is God's payment for hard work. And as I've worked hard all day-"

"Doing what?"

"I spent three hours in an Apache and two-thirty in a Mohawk. Thank you for your interest. As I was saying, I worked hard all day, and in the shower I was planning to accept my just pay the moment I was dry. But then you started bonging at my door. So, what I am going to do now, while you rehearse your apology, is make myself a drink."

"All right."

He went to the wet bar, took out a silver set of martini-making necessities from the freezer compartment of the refrigerator, and very seriously set about constructing himself a martini in the manner practiced by and passed on to him by Brigadier General Bruce J. McNab.

This involved, among other things, rinsing out both the martini mixer and the martini glass with vermouth before adding a precisely measured hefty amount of Gilbey's gin to the ice in the mixer. He then stirred the mixture

precisely one hundred times before pouring it into two large, long-stemmed martini glasses and adding two pickled onions on a toothpick to each.

He took one of the martinis, very carefully placed it in the freezer, and gently closed the freezer door. Then, carefully carrying the other martini, he walked to the couch and sat down as far away from Beth Wilson as the couch would permit.

He brought the glass to his lips, looked at her over the rim, and said, "You may begin the apology."

Then he took his first sip.

"Where's mine?" she said.

"You're kidding, right?"

"You are not going to offer me a drink? After that long Ed McMahon speech?"

"'What work did you do today?' is one question that pops to mind," Castillo said.

"I told you, I'm getting married on Sunday. I spent all day-with half a dozen giggling women-getting ready."

"I can see where that would be tiring," Castillo said. "The next question is a little delicate. Your father-"

"My father has a problem with alcohol," she said. "Something about his metabolism. My mother and I don't."

"And you want a martini?"

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble. I happened to notice you made two."

"There is a reason for that. You know what they say about martinis."

"I'll bet you're about to tell me."