The Outlaws (Presidential Agent 6)

[ONE]

Estancia San Joaquín

Near San Martín de los Andes

Patagonia

Neuquén Province, Argentina

1645 5 February 2007

From the air, the landing strip at Estancia San Joaquín looked like a dirt road running along the Chimehuín River, which arguably was the best trout-fishing river in the world.

It was only when the manager of the estancia heard the Aero Commander—which he expected—overhead and threw a switch that the aeronautical function of the dirt road became obvious. The switch (a) caused lights marking both ends of the runway to rise from the ground and begin to flash, and (b) another hydraulic piston to rise, this one with a flashing arrow indicating the direction of the wind.

The sleek, twin-engined, high-wing airplane touched down and taxied to a large, thatched-roof farm building near the road. There, part of what looked like the wall of the farm building swung open and, as soon as the pilot shut down the engines, a half-dozen men pushed the aircraft into what was actually a hangar. There was a Bell Ranger helicopter parked inside.

The door/wall closed, the marking lights sank back into the ground, and the airfield again became a dirt road running along the tranquil Chimehuín River.

Edgar Delchamps was the first to emerge from the airplane.

Max ran to greet him, which he did by resting his paws on Delchamps’s shoulder as he kissed him.

It was a long moment before the dog had enough and Delchamps could straighten up.

“Funny, I would never have taken you for a trout fisherman,” Charley Castillo greeted him.

Castillo was wearing a yellow polo shirt, khaki trousers, a battered Stetson hat, and even more battered Western boots.

“Ha-ha,” Delchamps responded.

Delchamps pointed to the helicopter and raised his eyebrows.

“Our host’s,” Castillo said. “Alek loans it to me from time to time, when I have something important to do, like going fishing.”

Alex Darby came out of the airplane next, followed by Liam Duffy, and finally a man wearing a Gendarmería Nacional uniform and pilot’s wings.

Darby and Castillo shook hands. Liam Duffy wrapped his arm around Castillo’s shoulders and hugged him.

“Ace, your pal Alek wouldn’t happen to be here, would he?” Delchamps asked.

“As a matter of fact, he is.”

“Why do I think Alek is not here to fish?” Delchamps said.

“Because in a previous life, you were trained to be suspicious,” Castillo replied. “You’re going to have to adjust to our changed circumstances.” When he saw the look on Delchamps’s face, he went on: “But since you ask, at a few minutes after seven this morning, Alek and I were out on the beautiful Río Chimehuín catching our breakfast.”

“Then Pevsner doesn’t know about the letter?”

“Charley,” Liam Duffy interrupted, nodding at the pilot. “We’re going to have to get Primer Alférez Sanchez to the airport.”

Primer Alférez, Alférez Sanchez, who had piloted the Aero Commander, was the equivalent of first lieutenant in the gendarmería. And Castillo saw his unhappy look.

He’s thinking, “I’m being gotten rid of so I won’t learn what’s going on here.”

And he’s right to be pissed. Liam could have handled that better; the last thing we want is a pilot who knows more than he should harboring a grudge.

Duffy’s sometimes the sort of commander whose officers loathe him.