Black Ops (Presidential Agent 5)

There was the sound of a door opening, and both automatically looked toward it.

"Good morning," Svetlana said from the doorway to the master bedroom.

She was wrapped in a terry-cloth robe, running a heavy wooden-handled brush through her lustrous hair.

Randy politely got to his feet.

"Randy, this is Miss Barlow," Castillo said. "Svet, this is--"

"I know who he is," she said, smiling warmly and looking between them. "One look at those eyes and I'd know him anywhere!"

Oh, shit!

Svetlana saw something on both their faces but didn't know what it was. Her smile disappeared.

"Oh? You are not Carlos's son, his son who lives with his mother and her husband?"

Where the hell did she get that?

From me, of course--that's where the hell she got that, stupid.

I told her--and Pevsner and damn near everybody else--that I had a son who lived with his mother.

"Well, I guess that answers most of my other questions," Randy said.

"What?" Castillo asked.

Randy looked him in the eyes. "Like why I look just like the pictures of your father, Colonel Castillo, sir. And why Abuela wanted me to call her Abuela. And--"

"He didn't know?" Svetlana suddenly exclaimed. "Oh, Carlos!"

"No, ma'am. I didn't know. I think everybody else knew. My Grandfather Wilson has known all the time. And, of course, I think it's safe to assume Mom knows--"

"Randy!" Castillo said.

"Why the hell didn't anybody tell me?" Randy asked.

Castillo saw that the boy was on the edge of tears.

"I don't think your father knows," Castillo said gently.

Which is true.

I don't think Righteous Randolph would be able to believe his wife ever had been to bed with me.

Much less believe that their honeymoon child was mine.

"Is that an admission, Colonel Castillo, sir, that I am in fact your bastard son?"

"Oh, Randy!" Svetlana said.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Randy demanded, his voice cracking. "What kind of a man would--"

"Shut up!" Castillo ordered.

Both Svetlana and Randy looked at him in shock.

"I have a habit of saying--and, of course, thinking I'm clever when I say it--that when you don't know what to say, try telling the truth. Are you able to handle the truth, Randy?"