"Meaning?" McNab said.
"I've heard a lot about you, and I'll bet you've heard a lot about me. From the same mutual acquaintances in Virginia."
"True," McNab said, and turned to Lester Bradley.
"Why do I suspect you're the Marine Corps representative?"
"Sir, Corporal Bradley, Lester, sir."
"And I have heard a lot about you, son," McNab said. "All of it from people I respect, and all of it good."
Corporal Bradley's face turned red.
McNab looked at Miller. "How's your knee, Dick?"
"Coming along just fine, sir."
McNab wordlessly shook hands with Davidson and Leverette, then turned to the others in his party. They still stood on the passageway. He pointed them out, left to right, and said: "Lieutenant Colonel Peter Woods, the second-worst aide-de-camp I've ever had; the worst by far was Colonel Castillo. Next is Major Homer Foster, who kept Colonel Richardson from making fatal flying errors on the way down here. On the end is Colonel Richardson, who was a classmate of Castillo and Miller at West Point. Make your own introductions, please, gentlemen."
Max padded up to McNab, sat before him, and offered his paw.
"General McNab, Max," Castillo said. "Max, General McNab."
McNab squatted and shook Max's paw.
"I met one of your progeny today, Max. He was soiling General Crenshaw's office carpet at Fort Rucker at the time."
"And my son Randy has his brother," Colonel Richardson said.
Svetlana caught that and looked at Castillo. He nodded.
"Are we about finished making nice?" McNab asked. "Those appetizers look like a great starter, but I really could eat a horse."
"Oh, I would say you'll fare better than that in here, General," Berezovsky said. "May we offer you a glass of wine?"
"A man after my own heart," McNab said. "Is there some Malbec?"
"Sir?" Colonel Richardson said.
McNab looked at him.
"Sir, while I hate to pass up what looks to be a wonderful--"
"You have the name of the place we're staying?" McNab cut him off.
"The Portofino Island Resort & Spa on Pensacola Beach, sir."
"Check in with Woods at 0700," McNab said.
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
Richardson made his apologies around the room and quickly left.
McNab looked at Castillo. "Mrs. Richardson is chaperoning a bunch of kids from Rucker. Including their boy. They're at a motel near the Naval Air Station; the kids are visiting the Naval Aviation Museum."
"That's one hell of a museum."
"General Crenshaw told me you taught the boy to fly."