The Shooters (Presidential Agent 4) - Page 263

"And that's all I have."

Castillo looked down at Duffy, who stood beside the truck.

"Comandante?"

Comandante Duffy put his hands on the waist of a slight man in a gendarme uniform and hoisted him into the back of the pickup.

What the hell?

The gendarmes bowed their heads, and the slight man then invoked a lengthy, somewhat flowery blessing of the Deity upon the noble mission they were about to undertake.

It was only after everyone raised their heads that Castillo saw the clerical collar under the slight man's camouflage shirt.

Max sensed that something was going on that he was not going to be part of, but didn't protest when Castillo put him in the back of the Mercedes SUV and firmly lashed his leash to a metal loop in the floor. Delchamps would drive the truck, and Max, to the airfield at Formosa, where Torine and Miller had taken the Gulfstream.

Castillo had planned to send Lester Bradley with Torine and Max, but the piteous look in Bradley's eyes when he was told of this was even more piteous than the look in Max's eyes, and Castillo's resolve melted.

"Cover my back, Lester, and that's all," Castillo ordered.

"Aye, aye, sir."

Leverette intercepted Castillo and Bradley as they walked toward Big Bad Wolf, its rotor blades already turning. Lorimer, Mullroney, and two shooters were getting situated inside.

"Go get aboard, Lester," Leverette ordered. "I need a word with the colonel. And don't shoot anything until I tell you."

When Bradley was out of earshot, Castillo said, "Now what, Colin?"

"Would the colonel accept some friendly advice?"

"Not right now, thank you just the same, Mr. Leverette. I have a lot on my mind."

"Thank you, sir. How long has it been since the colonel has been referred to as Hotshot Charley, the Boy Wonder?"

"Meaning what?"

"May I remind the colonel that he is now a colonel? And that colonels-even light colonels, sir-are supposed to keep their minds free to make command decisions? Not drive helicopters."

Castillo stared at Leverette.

"Let the kid drive, Charley. He's good. I've been around the block with him, and the other kid, before."

Castillo glanced at the Huey, then looked back at Leverette.

"If the old man's memory serves, you've been around the block with me once or twice, too, Colin. Some people thought I was pretty good at this sort of thing."

"You were. That was then, this is now." He paused. "Let the kids drive, Charley."

"Fuck you, Colin," Castillo said, and walked quickly toward Big Bad Wolf.

The pilot, a young captain, was holding open the pilot's door.

"Where would like me to ride, sir?"

"Probably there would be a good idea," Colonel Castillo said, pointing to the pilot seat. "That's where they keep the handles and levers and all that aircraft crap."

"Yes, sir."

"Big Bad Wolf light on the skids."

Tags: W.E.B. Griffin Presidential Agent Thriller
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