"He was."
"Doing what?"
"He said he had brought an airplane load of objets d'art to the King Faisal Islamic Center and was going to take a load of polo ponies back to Arabia."
"Oddly enough, that sounds legitimate."
"I think that's what he was doing. Anyway, he's gone, and I don't think he or Pevsner has anything to do with this. Pevsner wants to be invisible, what Kennedy wants is what Pevsner wants, and whacking an American diplomat does not seem to be a good way to be invisible."
"With Pevsner, you never know."
"Anyway, Kennedy said he knows this guy Yung, says that he's a hotshot, and whatever Yung's doing in Montevideo has nothing to do with money laundering."
"That's interesting. Let me see what I can find out about this guy."
"Thanks again, Tom."
"I was about to offer you some serious advice."
"Shoot."
"Tell me it's okay for me to call Tony Santini and tell him to sit on you until you get out of there."
"Tony's with the Mastersons. I think he should stay there. And I have a Marine bodyguard who won't let me out of his sight."
"Your call, Charley. But the more I think about it, I think these people are trying to whack you, so be careful."
"I will."
"I just had another thought," McGuire said. "Off the wall."
"Let's hear it."
"The whackers-of Schneider, if they weren't specifically after you-are sending a message."
"What kind of a message?"
"I haven't figured that out yet. But part of it could be, 'We can get to you if we want to, Secret Service protection or not.'"
"I don't know, Tom."
"I said it was off the wall," McGuire said. "That doesn't mean it's not possible."
"It brings up something else, Tom. What about protection for the Mastersons in Mississippi?"
"Charley, the President's going to be in Mississippi. The Secret Service will be all over Keesler. And the head of the protection detail has to know how pissed off he is about Masterson getting whacked."
"The President's not going to stay in Mississippi."
"Good point. I'll talk to Joel and see what he says. Anything else?"
"Can't think of anything."
"Okay, I'll see you down there." Castillo called Ambassador Silvio and told him that Betty was out of the operating room but still unconscious, and that her doctor had said she could travel either the next day or the day following.
Then he got off the floor and looked down at Betty again. She was still out.
Castillo turned to the heavyset nurse.
"How long will she be like this?" he asked.
"Probably for at least an hour, senor."
"If she wakes before I get back, tell her I'll be back," Castillo ordered.
"I will."
Castillo unplugged the cellular from the charger, saw that he now had enough battery remaining to get to the Four Seasons, then unplugged the charger from the wall and put both devices in his pocket. Then he walked out of the room.
Corporal Lester Bradley, USMC, who was sitting beside Jack Britton, got quickly to his feet when he saw Castillo.
Castillo met Britton's eyes.
"She's still out. The nurse says she'll be out for an hour or more. So Corporal Bradley and I are going to go pack. I'll have them move your stuff and hers into my room and settle those bills. After we're gone tomorrow, there will be people to relieve you and Solez and-"
"Got it," Britton said.
"While I'm dealing with the hotel, Bradley will go where his billet is and pack enough clothing-including his dress blues-for a week. Then he will go back to the hotel, pick me up, and we'll come back here."
"Sir?" Bradley said.
"What?"
"My orders are that I'm not to leave you. And… why do I need my dress blues?"
"Because you have the sad duty, Corporal, of taking Sergeant Markham home and burying him."
"The gunny didn't say anything about that, sir."
"The gunny doesn't know about it yet."
"Sir, I can't go without orders."
"You just got your orders," Castillo said. "If it makes you feel better, call your gunny and tell him what I have ordered."
"Yes, sir," Corporal Bradley said, doubtfully. One of the SIDE agents in the corridor followed Castillo and Bradley onto the elevator, and when the elevator door opened in the basement, two more men, obviously SIDE agents also, were waiting for them.
Castillo wondered how they had been notified; he hadn't seen the SIDE man use a cellular.
Obviously, stupid, one of the other SIDE agents called and said we were getting on the elevator.
And since it took you some time to figure that out, it means you're tired and not thinking clearly.
"Sir, I am the Major Querrina of the SIDE, with the honor of having your security-"
"I speak Spanish, Major," Charley interrupted him.
Major Querrina's relief was visible.
"You're going someplace, sir?"
"First to the Four Seasons. And while I am in there, my bodyguard here is going to the Marine barracks, or whatever it's called, to quickly pack a suitcase."
Major Querrina looked dubiously at Corporal Bradley but didn't say anything.
"When he's done that," Castillo went on, "he's going to go back to the Four Seasons and pick me up, and we're coming back here." He turned to Bradley. "Where is this place, Corporal?"
"Just off Libertador-" Bradley started.
"I know where it is," Querrina interrupted. "It's a twenty- to thirty-minute drive from the Four Seasons. Is time important?"
"I want to get back here as quickly as I can."
"May I suggest, sir, that we send the corporal to the Marine House in one of my cars? That will save time, and so far as security for yourself is concerned, there will be two SIDE cars with you."
Or I could ride with SIDE, and send Bradley in the embassy car.
But if I do that, and these bastards want to-what did Tom McGuire say?-"send a message" by taking me out, then I might have two dead Marines on my conscience. And, God, I don't want that.
"Major Querrina has kindly offered one of his cars to take you to the Marine House." He saw Bradley's face drop. "Corporal, you will go in one of their cars, which will bring you back here to the hospital. That's not open for discussion."
"Aye, aye, sir," Bradley said, with a visible lack of enthusiasm. [THREE] El Presidente de la Rua Suite The Four Seasons Hotel Cerrito 1433 Buenos Aires, Argentina 2240 24 July 2005 "Why don't you fix yourself a drink, Major?" Castillo said to Querrina as they came into the sitting room of the suite. "I won't be long."
"Very kind of you, sir. But no thank you. I have the duty."
"I have it, too," Castillo said. "But there are exceptions to every rule, and I have just decided this is one of those times."
He walked to the bar and poured an inch and a half of Famous Grouse into a glass. He took a sip, and then held the glass up in a second invitation.
"As you say, sir, there are always exceptions," Querrina said.
"Help yourself, I won't be long," Castillo said, and carried his glass into the bedroom and closed the door.
He found a socket for the cellular charger behind the bedside table and plugged it in. When he connected his cellular to it, he found that he wasn't going to have to sit on the floor. He laid the charging cellular on the bed, and then started to pack.
It didn't take him long, and he was just about to zip the bag closed when he remembered the bill he'd gotten at the desk. There was no sense carrying that around in his pocket for God knows how long, and he couldn't just toss it, because the Teutonically efficient financial department of the Tages Zeitung demanded a copy of his bills to compare with what American Express said he had spent.
He patted his pockets, found the bill, and started to put it in his laptop briefcase when a warning light lit up in the back of his brain.
What the hell is wrong?
He looked at the bill carefully.
Well, the Four Seasons doesn't give its accommodations away. But there's nothing on here out of the ordinary-
Except that it's made out to Karl Gossinger.