The Shooters (Presidential Agent 4)

Five minutes later, the Gulfstream III broke ground.

[SIX]

McCarren International Airport

Las Vegas, Nevada 2055 2 September 2005 A tug stood waiting outside the AFC hangar, and as a ground handler signaled for Castillo's Gulfstream III to shut down its engines, the doors of the hangar began to slide open.

Inside the hangar, Castillo saw that a glistening new Gulfstream V, three older Lears, a Beechcraft King Air and an old but nicely refurbished Cessna 150 had been moved to one side to make room for his G-III.

And then he saw there was a Cadillac Escalade in the hangar. Dr. Aloysius Francis Casey, chairman of the board and chief executive officer of AFC, Inc., was sitting sideward in the driver's seat, the driver's door open. He was wearing his usual baggy black suit.

The tug hooked up to the nose gear of the G-III and dragged the aircraft into the hangar. Two men in white coveralls with the AFC logotype on the chest hooked up an auxiliary power cable.

Castillo opened the stair door and went down it, with Torine following.

Casey pushed himself off the seat of the Escalade and walked to them.

"How are you, Charley?" he asked, shaking his hand, then Torine's.

"Always good to see you, Colonel," Casey said.

"Always good to see you, too, Dr. Casey," Torine said. "And we really appreci-"

"Goddamn it! I keep telling you and the Boy Colonel here that it's Frank," Casey said. "I'm starting to get pissed off about that!"

"Sorry, Frank," Torine said.

Casey looked toward the men in coveralls and raised his voice: "Get the luggage off of that, and put it in my truck."

The men hurried to do his bidding.

Tom McGuire, Ed Lorimer, and, bringing up the rear, Charley Mullroney came down the stairs and somewhat hesitantly walked to them.

Casey put out his hand to Lorimer and said, "Any Special Forces guy is always welcome. My name is Frank Casey. Call me Frank. I did some time as a commo sergeant on an A-Team in 'Nam. Mostly over the fence in Laos and Cambodia."

"Yes, sir," Lorimer said.

"You call me sir one more time, and you can sleep on your airplane. Clear?"

"Yes, s-Frank."

"You're learning," Casey said, then pointed his right index finger at Castillo and Torine. "Which is more than I can say for these two."

He turned to McGuire and Mullroney and said, "Usually I have as little as possible to do with cops, but since you two are Irish and with these guys you get a pass."

He shook their hands, then said: "Come on and get in the truck. We'll go out to the house and hoist a couple and burn some meat."

They had turned off U. S. Highway 93 a few minutes before, and were driving down a macadam two-lane road toward the mountains. Castillo, sitting beside Casey in the front seat of the Escalade, was wondering what electronics were behind the dashboard to power the two telephone handsets and a large liquid crystal display screen-now displaying the AFC logo and STANDBY-mounted on the dash.

Casey suddenly said, "Before we get to the house, I think I should tell you the wife passed…"

"I hadn't heard that, Frank," Castillo said. "I'm very sorry."

"Yeah, well, we all have to go sometime, and, thank God, Mary Alice went good. She took a little nap by the pool and never woke up."

"I'm sorry, Frank," Castillo repeated.

"Me, too, Frank," Jake Torine said.