The Shooters (Presidential Agent 4)

Alexandria, Virginia 2340 3 September 2005 "We're home, Colonel," the Secret Service driver of the Yukon said, gently pushing Castillo's shoulder.

Castillo's head jerked up. For a moment he was confused, and then he knew where he was.

In the front seat of the Yukon, in the basement of the house.

"How long was I out?" he asked.

"You dozed off before we were out of the airport."

"You ever hear that only people with nothing on their conscience can go to sleep with no difficulty?"

The Secret Service agent chuckled.

"So what happens now?" Castillo asked.

"There's my relief," the Secret Service agent said, pointing to a man walking up to the Yukon. "I go off at midnight, in twenty minutes."

Max was walking to one side of the man, and looking at the truck.

"In that case, can I offer you a nightcap?" Castillo offered. "I'm about to have one. Which I richly deserve. This has been one hell of a day."

He sensed reluctance on the part of the Secret Service agent.

"If you have moral scruples against Demon Rum, then okay. Otherwise, consider that an order. I always feel depraved when I drink alone."

"I could use a little nip."

"Then come along."

Castillo's door opened as he reached for the handle.

"Good evening, sir," the Secret Service agent who had walked up to the Denali said.

Max effortlessly stood on his rear paws and put his forepaws on Castillo's legs.

"How are you, pal?" he asked, and scratched Max's ears.

Max sat down on his haunches.

"I see you've made a pal of Max," Castillo said to the Secret Service agent.

"He's been meeting every car that's come in here," the Secret Service agent said. "Obviously waiting for you. Until now, he's just taken a look and gone back upstairs."

"I probably smell like hamburger," Castillo said, and then asked: "You're going to be here all night? What did you do wrong?"

The Secret Service agent chuckled.

"Not to go any farther?"

Castillo nodded.

"We bid for the duty. This looked like a much better deal than spending all night sitting in the truck in the White House parking lot. Seniority counts, and I won."

"Well, the only person who can get me out of here tonight is the President, and I heard on the radio that he's on the Gulf Coast looking at hurricane damage, so why don't you find an empty bedroom and catch some sleep?"

"Maybe later, Colonel. Thank you."

"I have to be at the Nebraska Avenue Complex at eight. Is that going to screw up your getting relieved?"