The Hunters (Presidential Agent 3)
“Well, let’s have a look at you, Úr Kocian,” Dr. Czerny said. “Will you excuse us a moment, please?”
He started to draw a curtain around the bed. Max stood up, showed his teeth, and growled softly but deeply.
“Come on, Max,” Castillo said. “Let’s go terrorize people in the corridor.”
Max looked doubtful for a moment, then followed Castillo out of the room.
As soon as he had closed the door to room 24, Otto Görner grabbed Castillo’s arm.
“You’re not actually thinking about taking him to Argentina, are you, Karl?”
“For one thing, do you think we’d be able to stop him from going to Argentina?” Castillo replied, and then went on without giving Görner a chance to reply: “The people who tried to kill him—the needle full of phenothiazine makes me think they were going to question him, which means torture him, to see what he knew before killing him—are almost certainly going to have another try at him. I can protect him a lot better in Argentina than I can here. And if I take him on the Gulfstream, there will be no record of him having bought a ticket to go anywhere. That’ll take them off his trail for at least a few days.”
Görner considered that for thirty seconds, then asked: “When will your airplane be here?”
Castillo thought out loud: “It was probably ten, Washington time, by the time Dick had the cashier’s check from the Riggs Bank. Torine said twelve hours from then. That would make it ten tonight, and how far ahead of Washington is Budapest? Five hours this time of year?”
“Six,” Görner furnished.
“That’ll put them into Ferihegy at four tomorrow morning. Figure an hour—maybe a little more—to clear customs and get to the Gellért. Five o’clock. I think we’d better spend a day here, both to give Billy a chance to get his stuff together and for Torine and Fernando to get some rest.”
Görner nodded.
“You can protect him in Argentina?” he asked.
Castillo nodded. “But I’m a little worried about here. That one cop doesn’t look like much protection. Can you do something about that?”
Görner took his cellular telephone from his pocket and punched an autodial button.
Thirty seconds later, he said, “As soon as someone wakes up long enough to answer the goddamned telephone at the Budapester Tages Zeitung, there will be people from the security service here within fifteen minutes.”
“Can they be trusted?”
“Eric trusts them,” Görner said and then turned his attention to his cellular telephone: “Hier ist Generaldirektor Görner…”
[THREE]
Room 24
Telki Private Hospital
2089 Telki Kórház Fasor 1
Budapest, Hungary
1750 6 August 2005
Doctor Fredric Czerny put his head into the corridor and, shaking his head in what was obviously resignation, signaled for Castillo and Görner to come into Eric Kocian’s room.
“Úr Kocian and I are negotiating his release from the hospital,” he said. “He wishes you to participate.”
Max trotted after them, sat on his haunches by the bed, and offered Kocian his paw.
“Traitor!” Kocian said but took the paw and then caressed Max’s massive head.
“What are the points in dispute?” Castillo asked.
“I told him I would release him probably tomorrow afternoon, as I think he needs another day of bed rest,” Czerny explained.