The Outlaws (Presidential Agent 6)

“I think we can arrange that,” Castillo said. “But only if you promise to forget everything Tío Fernando has taught you about flying.”

“Now, you stop, the both of you,” Doña Alicia said.

“Speaking of tíos,” Castillo began.

“Excuse me, dear?” Doña Alicia asked.

“It’s very important that Tío Héctor García-Romero does not know that any of us are here, or that we’ve been in touch in any way.”

“What’s that all about? He’s our lawyer, for God’s sake,” Fernando said.

“He’s also in bed ...”

Castillo stopped and looked at Randy.

“I know,” Randy said. “Little pitchers have big ears. This is where I’m told to go play with my puppy, right?”

“You do have a mouth, don’t you?” Castillo asked.

“I wonder where he got that from, El Señor Boca Grande?” Fernando said.

“No, Randy,” Castillo said. “I’m not going to tell you to go play with your puppy. Where is he, anyway?”

“His father is teaching him how to steal food in the kitchen,” Fernando said.

“Well, why not?” Castillo said. “Dogs, like boys, have to grow up sometime. And if you need a teacher, go to an expert.”

“Are you talking about your dog or yourself?” Fernando challenged.

“Both,” Castillo said, and turned to the boy. “Randy, we both know that you have learned to keep important secrets.”

And everybody in this room, from Lester to General Wilson, knows what that secret is.

“I don’t think I like where this conversation is going,” Fernando interrupted.

“I don’t think I do, either,” Doña Alicia said.

Castillo ignored both of them. He went on: “So I know, Randy, that if I tell you that this is an important secret—actually secrets, a bunch of them—and if they get out, people can be hurt, or even killed, I know that I can trust you to keep your mouth shut. Okay? If you don’t want that responsibility, I’ll understand if you want to take Max and his puppy for a walk.”

“Jesus Christ, Gringo, he’s fourteen years old,” Fernando said. “He doesn’t need to hear about people getting hurt or killed.”

“Carlos, do you know what you’re doing?” Doña Alicia asked.

“I’ll stay,” Randy said. And then added, “Thank you, sir.”

“Okay. The family lawyer, Randy, El Señor Héctor García-Romero, is up to his ears in the drug business.”

“I don’t believe that!” María Lopez exploded. “Héctor is Little Fernando’s godfather.”

“I don’t care if you believe it or not, María,” Castillo said. “What I’m worried about is your mouth. Will you give me your word to keep it shut?”

“Are you just going to stand there and listen to him talk to me like that?” María demanded of her husband.

Fernando looked at Castillo.

“Gringo, you better be sure you know what you’re talking about.”

“I do.”