Black Ops (Presidential Agent 5)

Castillo nodded.

"He's for Elena. For her and Sergei and Aleksandr, but primarily for her."

Munz nodded.

"I'd like to think I'm doing that simply to be a nice guy," Castillo said. "But I'm not sure if it's not because it will get to Pevsner."

"I like the kids, too," Munz said. "And I know you're a nice guy, whether or not you like to admit it."

Castillo looked at him but remained silent.

And what happens to you, Alfredo, when the worst scenario comes down?

A nice settlement payment, of course, but what about after that?

Munz pulled back his jacket, revealing a revolver in a high-mount hip holster.

Castillo recognized the offer and shook his head. "I go in peace. And I would be heavily outgunned, anyway."

"Well, don't worry about Mata Hari. I can deal with her," Munz said, then smiled and added, "Or if I can't, Lester can."

Castillo chuckled.

She's figured that out. She may be curious about Lester, but she saw that very professional display of pistol handling, and as a pistoleer herself, she knows that there is a very strong chance she will be wounded seriously with a heavy-caliber bullet if she tries to run.

And by now she also knows that despite some spectacular initial success in turning me into a chump, that's over. She's given up on the soulful looks into my eyes.

"You know how to get to the boat?" Munz asked.

"Get on the elevator and push the Minus-2 button, and then down the corridor."

"You sure you don't want me to go with you?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Castillo walked to the bathroom door, scooped up the puppy, said, "Come on, Max," then nodded at Munz and walked out of the suite.

Castillo heard the boat's engine quietly burbling when he walked out onto the long pier jutting into the lake, but he couldn't see it until he was almost to where it was tied by the stern to the pier.

He was a little surprised by the boat. He expected a cabin cruiser. This was--he searched for the word and after a moment found it--a speedboat. There had been one like it when he was a kid, at the beach house on the Gulf of Mexico. That had been a Chris-Craft, and he and Fernando were never allowed to take it out themselves--but of course had--as their grandfather thought it was dangerous in ocean water.

The speedboat waiting for him now was made of mahogany and had two passenger compartments, one fore and one aft, with the engine mounted between them. The forward compartment had the controls and an automobile-like steering wheel. The aft compartment had a leather-upholstered seat for three behind a small windshield that was supposed to protect the passengers from spray--but never did.

The man standing on the pier directed him: "In the rear seat, please, mi coronel . For the balance."

"Thank you," Castillo said, and, holding the puppy against him, carefully stepped into the boat and then down into the seat. Max leapt effortlessly aboard, inspected the front compartment, then came back and sat beside Castillo.

Castillo then set the pup on the footboards. He had not thought to bring newspaper or one of the Llao Llao's monogrammed towels with him.

The man untied the stern, then jumped onto the boat, caus

ing it to rock somewhat. He squatted beside Castillo and handed him a cellular phone.

"I know the colonel has probably told you, mi coronel, but button seven is my phone and button four is the colonel."

Munz had not said a word.

"Thank you," Castillo said.