And now this sonofabitch is in the way!
Castillo stopped himself at the last split second from pushing the Secret Service agent out of the way.
"I'm Castillo."
"Will you come with me, please, sir? The President would like a word with you."
Castillo nodded.
Special Agent Willkie started down the stairs. As Castillo turned to follow him he looked at Mrs. Masterson again. Their eyes locked again.
She looks distressed, almost frightened.
She doesn't want me to leave.
Mrs. Masterson stood up and pushed Lieutenant Colonel McElroy to one side and called, "Mr. Castillo!"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"May I have a moment alone with you, please?"
"Yes, ma'am. Of course."
She brushed past McElroy and walked up to the cockpit opening. She got so close that Castillo backed up, which pushed him right up against Torine.
"What can I do for you, ma'am?" Castillo asked. "Is something wrong?"
She looked up at him. He saw tears forming.
"I was afraid to say anything in Buenos Aires, Mr. Castillo," she said. "My priority was keeping my children safe."
He nodded.
Elizabeth Masterson took a deep breath.
"But now we're out of Argentina. We're here." She paused, and then went on, slowly and carefully, as if she had rehearsed what she was going to say: "The people who abducted me wanted me to tell them where my brother is. They said that unless I told them, they would kill my children, one at a time. And they said they would kill my children and my parents if I said anything about it. And then they killed Jac-" Her voice caught. She swallowed and went on, "Then they killed my husband to show me they mean what they say."
"And you don't know where your brother is, do you?" Castillo asked, gently.
She shook her head.
Castillo put his hands on her arms.
"Listen to me, Mrs. Masterson. You have my word that no one is going to hurt your children. Or your parents. Or you…"
"I just didn't know what to do. That's why I didn't-"
"Mr. Castillo, the President is waiting!" Secret Service Special Agent Willkie impatiently announced.
"He's just going to have to wait," Castillo snapped, and then looked down at Mrs. Masterson again.
She was shaking her head and smiling through her tears.
He looked at her quizzically.
"I knew I was going to have to tell somebody," she said. "And I guess I was right in choosing you."
"I don't under-"
"How many people do you think there are who, on being told the President of the United States is waiting for them, would say, 'He's just going to have to wait'?"
"That just may be an indication that I act impulsively," Castillo said.
"No, Mr. Castillo. What it is is that you're what Alex Darby told me you are."
He looked at her quizzically again.
She explained: "One really tough sonofabitch, and just the guy you need in your corner when you're really in trouble."
"Well, if you believe that, ma'am, please believe I'm in your corner."
"Mr. Castillo, for God's sake, the President is waiting!" Special Agent Willkie called.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," Castillo said.
She reached up and kissed his cheek, said, "Thank you," and went back to her seat.
Castillo looked at Colonel Torine.
"You heard all that, right?"
Torine, his face stern, nodded.
"Would you come with me, please? I may need a witness."
"Sure," Torine said, turned his head and raised his voice. "Bill, I'm leaving the aircraft. It's now yours."
"Yes, sir."
When Special Agent Willkie saw Colonel Torine follow Castillo down the stairs, he looked at him in surprise, and then announced, "The President said nothing about wanting to see anyone but you, Mr. Castillo."
"Well, then I guess he'll be surprised when he sees Colonel Torine, won't he?" As soon as they were standing on the runway beside the Globemaster, Special Agent Willkie spoke to his lapel microphone.
"Mr. Castillo insists on bringing the pilot with him."
"Not 'the pilot,' my friend," Torine said, not very pleasantly. "Colonel Jake Torine, U.S. Air Force."
"He says his name is Torine," Special Agent Willkie said to his lapel microphone.
Thirty seconds later, Special Agent Willkie said, "If you'll get in the Yukon, please, gentlemen, I will escort you to the President."
They had been in the backseat of the Yukon about thirty seconds when Torine touched Castillo's shoulder and pointed out the window.
Castillo looked and saw soldiers armed with Car 16 rifles forming a perimeter guard around the Globemaster.
"I didn't know they trusted Air Force guys with loaded guns," Castillo said.
Torine smirked. "Those aren't Air Force guys, wiseass. They're soldiers, almost certainly Special Forces and probably Delta Force. And at least one of them is Gray Fox. That is Sergeant Orson, isn't it?"
Castillo looked. One of the soldiers was a tall, blond sergeant first class named Orson. The last time Castillo had seen the Gray Fox communicator/sniper was in Costa Rica, where Orson had very professionally taken out two of the terrorists who had stolen the 727.
"I'll be damned, that's Orson all right."
What the hell is going on? The Yukon stopped in front of the wide flight of stairs that had been rolled up to the huge Boeing, and Castillo and Torine got out. There was a knot of people guarding access to the stairs, including two females who were obviously Secret Service agents.
One of them spoke to her lapel microphone, and then turned to Castillo and Torine.
"You may board, gentlemen," she said. "The President is expecting you."
XII
[ONE] Aboard Air Force One Keesler Air Force Base Biloxi, Mississippi 2050 25 July 2005 Although he'd seen the presidential aircraft before, and had been closer to both of them than most people ever get, Castillo had never actually been inside one of them.
The first thing he noticed when he stepped through the door was that the interior was unlike any other that he'd ever seen on any Boeing 747 or, for that matter, on any airliner. Instead of row after row of seats, he found himself looking at the seal of the President of the United States mounted on a cream-colored wall running as far as he could see-fifty feet or so-along the left side of the aircraft, down to where there was a bend in the corridor that the wall formed.
The second thing he noticed was a Secret Service agent standing in the short section of corridor to his left. Castillo had heard that the presidential apartment was in the nose of the aircraft, under the flight deck, and had just decided the Secret Service agent was guarding the President when a second Secret Service agent spoke to him. This one he knew.
"Down the corridor to the door," Joel Isaacson said, pointing. And then he added: "Good to see you, Charley."
Castillo shook Isaacson's hand as he walked past him, but didn't speak.
The door Isaacson made reference to was in the bend of the corridor. As Castillo got close to it, a Secret Service agent appeared and pushed the door inward.
Castillo stepped through it and found himself in a decent-sized conference room. There was a large table, with eight leather-upholstered armchairs around it. They all had seat belts.
Seated at the table were the secretary of state, Dr. Natalie Cohen; the secretary of Homeland Security, the Honorable Matthew Hall; the director of national intelligence,Ambassador Charles Montvale; and General Allan Naylor, commander in chief of CentCom. The President of the United States was sprawled on a leather sectional couch against the interior wall, talking on the telephone.
When he saw Castillo, he smiled and signaled for him to come in and to take one of the unoccupied armchairs at the table. Then, when he saw Colonel Torine, he signaled for him to come in and to take another of the armchairs.
Castillo got a smile from the secretary of state and the secretary of Homeland Security. General Naylor nodded at him, and the director of national intelligence looked at him in what Castillo thought was both curiosity and disapproval.