The Outlaws (Presidential Agent 6)

“Did they find a pilot for the Aero Commander?” Duffy asked.

“Sí, mí general. All is ready at Aeroparque Jorge Newbery.”

“Whoopee!” Julia Darby said.

“And the people to stay with Familia Darby?” Duffy asked.

“In place, mí comandante.”

“Whoopee again,” Julia said.

Duffy nodded at the men.

The doorbell rang again.

Duffy pulled it open.

A thirty-eight-year-old Presbyterian from Chevy Chase, Maryland, stood there.

“Mr. Darby?” Roscoe Danton asked.

“I’m Alex Darby. Come in.”

Roscoe entered the apartment and offered his hand to him.

“Roscoe Danton,” he said.

“That was a quick look at the BMW, wasn’t it?” Darby asked.

“Actually, Mr. Darby, I’m not here about the car. I came to see you,” Danton said. “I’m a journalist at The Washington Times-Post. Eleanor Dillworth sent me.”

Darby’s reaction was Pavlovian. One spook does not admit knowing another spook unless he knows whoever is asking the question has the right to know.

Spooks also believe that journalists should be told only that which is in the best interests of the spook to tell them.

“I’m afraid there’s been a mistake,” Darby said, politely. “I’m afraid I don’t know a Miss Duckworth.”

“Dillworth.” Roscoe made the correction even as he intuited things were about to go wrong. “Eleanor Dillworth.”

Comandante General Liam Duffy also experienced a Pavlovian reaction when he saw the look in Darby’s eyes. He made a barely perceptible gesture with the index finger of his left hand.

The two men about to carry luggage from the apartment quickly set it down and moved quickly to each side of Roscoe Danton. The third man, who was already on the elevator landing, turned and came back into the apartment, looking to Duffy for guidance.

Duffy made another small gesture with his left hand, rubbing his thumb against his index finger. This gesture had two meanings, money and papers.

In this case, the third man intuited it meant papers. He walked to Danton and said, reasonably pleasantly, in English, “Papers, please, Señor.”

“Excuse me?” Roscoe said.

Julia Darby looked annoyed rather than concerned.

“Gendarmería Nacional,” the man said. “Documents, please, passport and other identity.”

Roscoe wordlessly handed over his passport.

The third man made a give me the rest gesture.