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The Outlaws (Presidential Agent 6)

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“That’s what I started to say a moment ago,” Barlow said. “You were there, Charley, in that suite in the Venetian Hotel in Las Vegas when those people as much as told us that the director of Central Intelligence is either one of them, or damn close to them.”

“I don’t remember that,” Castillo said.

“The man who was a Naval Academy graduate quoted verbatim to you the unkind things you said to the DCI, something about the agency being ‘a few very good people trying to stay afloat in a sea of left-wing bureaucrats.’ Who do you think told him about that?”

“I remember now,” Castillo said. “But I really had forgotten. That’s not much of a recommendation, is it?”

“Charley, I said I’d take your orders,” Delchamps said. “But ... You saw The Godfather?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Both Brando and the son—Pacino? De Niro? I never can keep them straight—had a consigliere. Think of me as Robert Duvall.”

“Think of us both as Robert Duvall,” Barlow said. “It was Al Pacino.”

“I don’t think so,” Delchamps said.

“Can either of my consiglieri suggest how I can get in touch with those people?”

“Well, if you hadn’t been gulping down all that Wild Turkey, I’d suggest you fly everybody to Carinhall in Alek’s chopper. But since you have been soaking up the booze, I guess we’ll have to drive over there and get on Casey’s radio.”

“No,” Castillo said. “There’s a Casey radio in the Aero Commander.”

“It fits?” Delchamps asked, surprised.

“Aloysius’s stuff is so miniaturized it’s unbelievable,” Castillo said. “But call your house, Alek, and tell your man to stand by. There’s no printer in the airplane. And you’d better call down to the airstrip and have them push the plane from the hangar.”

“Yes, sir, Podpolkovnik Castillo, sir,” Svetlana said, and saluted him. Then she saw the look on his face. “My darling, I love it when you’re in charge of things; it makes me feel comfortable and protected.”

“It makes me think Ace’s had too much to drink,” Delchamps said.

“Aloysius, you think the offer from those people is still open?” Castillo asked.

Castillo was sitting in the pilot’s seat of the Aero Commander. Delchamps was in the co-pilot’s seat. Svetlana was kneeling in the aisle and her brother was leaning over her. Pevsner, Duffy, and Darby were sitting in the cabin. Max and János were standing watchfully outside by the nose of the airplane.

“I told them you’d change your mind,” Casey said. “This thing sort of scares me, Charley. There was another beer keg of that stuff sitting on a road near the Mexican border in Texas this morning.”

“Another one?” Castillo asked.

“Another one. They left it where the Border Patrol couldn’t miss it. It’s been taken to Colonel Hamilton at Fort Detrick. We’re waiting to hear from him to tell us if it’s exactly the same thing.”

“Well, send me whatever intel you have, everything you can get your hands on. Everything, Aloysius.”

“Done.”

“What shape is the Gulfstream in?”

“Ready to go.”

“Tell Jake to take it to Cancún. They’ll expect him.”

“You don’t want him to pick you up down there?”

“No. I’ll come commercial.”

Svetlana was tugging at his sleeve.

She rubbed her thumb and forefinger together, mouthed Money, and then held up two fingers.



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