The Hostage (Presidential Agent 2)

"You heard about that, too, did you, Alfredo?"

"Like yourself, Karl, I'm sure, I like to keep my ear to the grindstone."

"Nose to the grindstone, ear to the ground," Castillo smilingly corrected him.

"Thank you," Munz said.

"There's a planeload of FBI agents on their way down here to assist in the investigation. And two Secret Service agents to assist me. One is a really bright female with a good deal of experience in intelligence. I'm going to put her on the protection detail, hoping she'll be able to get to Mrs. Masterson. The other one is a very good, street-smart cop who worked under deep cover in really bad situations for years. I'm going to have him look at what the FBI comes up with, and I would be grateful if you would let him see what you've come up with."

"Certainly, but there's not much."

"There's also an Air Force transport on its way to transport Masterson's body and his family home."

"Are you going with them?"

Jesus, I never thought about that!

"Maybe. But if I do, I have the feeling that I'll be coming back."

Munz nodded, then put out his hand.

"I'm glad we had this chance to chat, Karl."

"Thank you for everything, Alfredo." [SEVEN] Mrs. Elizabeth Masterson was not in the intensive care room where she had first been placed, but Castillo had no trouble in finding the room to which she had been moved. There were four uniformed Policia Federal, under the command of a sergeant, and two men in civilian clothing-one of them Paul Sieno, the CIA agent- hovering around a door near the end of the corridor.

Sieno nodded at Castillo, who then knocked on the door. A moment later, Ambassador Silvio opened it a crack, and then all the way.

"Come in, Mr. Castillo," he said, and as Castillo went through the door, the ambassador went on, "Betsy, here's Mr. Castillo."

Mrs. Masterson was sitting up in a hospital bed. She was in a nightgown that had to be hers from home, and Castillo saw there were two other women in the room, almost certainly Darby's wife and the ambassador's. They were sitting in chairs along the wall, and Darby and Santini were leaning on the wall next to them.

Castillo walked up to the bed.

"The President has asked me to tell you how terribly sorry he is, Mrs. Masterson."

That little lie came quickly to my lips, didn't it?

Well, if the President had thought about it, he would have.

"That's very kind of him," Mrs. Masterson said. She did not offer her hand and her smile was visibly an effort.

"And if I may, I would like to offer my own condolences."

When there was no response to this except the frozen smile, Castillo went on, "My orders, ma'am, are first to absolutely guarantee your safety, and that of your children, and then to get you to the United States just as quickly and as safely as possible."

The smile remained fixed, and she said nothing.

"Has Ambassador Silvio told you that Mr. Santini has many years' experience on the Secret Service Presidential Protection Detail?"

"Yes, he has."

"And the Argentine authorities have provided us with some of their very best men to help Mr. Santini."

"So the ambassador has told me."

"We hope to have word very soon about the arrival of the aircraft the President has sent down here. One of them is a transport, which will carry you and your family to the United States just as soon as you feel up to it, and the other is bringing both a team of FBI experts to assist in the investigation, and two Secret Service agents for your protection detail. One of them is a female agent."

Mrs. Masterson nodded.