The Shooters (Presidential Agent 4)

"Was there something wrong with the telephone in your room, Sergeant Mullroney? Couldn't get a dial tone?"

Mullroney didn't reply.

"Or was it because you didn't want us to know you were making your report to Captain Timmons? Is that why you sneaked out here to use your cellular?"

Mullroney looked at him almost defiantly.

Not really "fuck you" defiant. He's worried.

Now l

et's see how far I can push him.

Castillo held out his hand and wiggled the fingers in a Give it to me gesture.

Mullroney looked at Castillo's hand and then his face and back at the hand.

"Give me the phone," Castillo ordered.

Mullroney looked again at Castillo's face, as if trying to understand.

So what do I do now? Try to take it away from him?

"Give me the phone," Castillo repeated.

Mullroney didn't move or respond.

"Give the colonel the fucking phone, asshole, or I'll throw you and it off the mountain."

The voice in the dark startled Castillo. He hadn't heard anyone walking up on them. He now saw that Lorimer was standing beside him.

"I'm not going to tell you again," Lorimer said.

Mullroney put the cellular in Castillo's hand.

Castillo threw it down the mountain.

"What the fuck?" Mullroney protested, incredulously.

"You are not permitted to have a cellular telephone," Castillo said calmly.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Mullroney demanded.

There wasn't much conviction in that indignation.

"The next time you say something like that to the colonel, I'm going to break your arm before I throw you down the mountain."

"Fuck you, soldier boy," Mullroney said.

Five seconds later, Sergeant Mullroney found himself on his stomach.

His arm was twisted painfully behind him, his cheek was pressed into the rough ground, and Lieutenant Lorimer's knee-the titanium one, Castillo saw-was pressed painfully into the small of his back.

He howled in pain.

"Permission to dislocate his shoulder, sir?" Lorimer asked.

Castillo waited five seconds-long enough, he judged, for Mullroney to have time to consider that he might actually be about to have his shoulder dislocated-before replying: "Put him on his back, Lieutenant. If he even looks like he's considering trying to get up, kick some teeth out."