“Shoot.”
“Your pal in Las Vegas. Funny name.”
“Uh, LaRez Sanazaro? But I wouldn’t tell him it’s funny if I were you.”
“Need to see him. Tonight. You and me.”
Macc issued a stunned look. “Oh, that should be easy. ‘LaRez, cancel all plans for the evening. The great Cam Warfield wants to see you!’ He’s only got a casino to run, Cam. He hasn’t retired yet. Of course I’ve got nothing to do here, either.”
“Do it on the plane.”
“Cam, I—”
Warfield cut him off. “It’ll be here at nine. Check the runway.”
Warfield sifted through the Department of the Army correspondence on Macclenny’s desk.
“What the hell do I tell LaRez?” Macc asked.
“Tell him it’s been awhile. You want to drop by tonight and say hello. That I’m tagging along. Around ten at Nellis.”
Macc reached LaRez and after the two caught up on the course of their lives Macclenny explained what he wanted and said it was important. “Tell them at the guard post that you’re there to meet Cameron Warfield’s plane. They’ll escort you.”
The plane arrived at Lone Elm at eight-forty-five. The Gulfstream G650 was a sixty-five-million-dollar civilian plane the military frequently used for flying government officials around. Warfield thought of the power the president had at his fingertips. Make a phone call, a plane appears just like that, complete with crew. Macc gave last minute instructions to the Lone Elm cadre and boarded with Warfield. Warfield razzed the Air Force officers in the cockpit for a few minutes about working the graveyard shift and sat down across the aisle from Macc. When they were airborne Warfield told Macc what had transpired earlier at the White House and with Joplan at ADC. “Joplan’s lawyer gets him out of jail, we don’t know who’s got the nukes taken from Kremlyov, what’s coming down.”
“Where’s LaRez come in?”
“Fill me in. Didn’t you save his kid’s life, something like that?”
Macc chuckled. “LaRez thinks I did. Probably would’ve worked out okay without me. The boy panicked a little. I was swamping on my old man’s boat. Happened to be there on leave one summer when LaRez chartered the boat for his family for a six-day ride down the Colorado through the Grand Canyon. We stopped all along the way to let them explore some of the beauty. You know, fossils, Indian ruins, waterfalls in the side canyons.
“One day LaRez and his wife and two brats and me, we took a hike up into one of the canyons, a mile or so along trails that climb gradually. The older kid, he’s about ten or eleven then, he runs ahead and gets to this narrow ledge that serves as a pass to where we were heading. People navigate it every day but it can be a little unnerving. Anyway, LaRez is hollering at the kid to stay with us, and I shout something to rein him in a little because I know the trail narrows just ahead. So the kid gets to this sheer vertical stone wall that borders the trail — it goes straight up to the sky on his left, and on the right it’s a couple hundred foot drop to car-size boulders in the canyon. So he’s on this little ledge between the wall on one side and nothing but air on the other. Where he stands is about this wide.” Macc held his two hands about twelve inches apart. “And he’s clinging to roots and twigs sticking out of the rock wall to keep his balance. That’s when he makes his mistake. He looks down at the rocks in the canyon below and freezes. We couldn’t coax the boy back to our side or get him to go on to the other side. Crying his ass off. And the mother, she’s screaming like a banshee. LaRez talked to the boy while I went back down to the boat as fast as I could for some equipment, and then maneuvered back up above the kid on the canyon wall. I was able to rappel down and grab him.”
“Surprised LaRez didn’t put out a contract on you.”
Macc laughed and removed some paperwork from his briefcase. “Ever been in the Canyon?”
Warfield reclined his seat. “One of those sightseeing planes.”
“You ain’t seen nothin’. Gotta take you sometime.”
“How long’s your dad been doing it?”
“River guide? Since I was three. Forty years. Hung it up last year. I swamped for him summers until the army. It was hard leaving. Could’ve had a boat of my own, will someday. What a life, there on the river, most beautiful sights in the world, Cam. You’re down there, two-hundred miles of river between walls that go high as you can see. You know there’s a God.”
“Tell me about LaRez.”
“Helluva guy. Nice family. Had me down to Vegas after all that, treated me like a son. I went to his kid’s high-school graduation last year. Now LaRez, you know he’s the underworld. No saint, him. I met some of his people. They wear coats and ties but you don’t have to wonder what business they’re in. I get the impression LaRez is pretty straight now. It’s the good life, doesn’t want to screw it up. He ragged me some on the phone tonight, but he didn’t have any problem with meeting us. He’s heard of you.”
“Uh-oh.”
“I’ve told him a few stories — some of the things we’ve done — without giving away the farm. He’s a fierce American patriot. Likes spy stories. Doesn’t care much for disloyalty.”
Warfield had the pilot radio ahead to Nellis Air Force Base and arrange for them to escort Sanazaro to their plane when it landed.
The Gulfstream was being refueled when a midnight blue Mercedes SL600 rolled up and LaRez stepped out, his red silk shirt filling out in the breeze, a bank of white hair on the temples, the perfect tan. Except for the bushy eyebrows, he was immaculately groomed. Warfield followed Macc to the bottom of the steps where LaRez and Macc bear-hugged each other before Macc introduced his two friends. Warfield asked the flight crew for privacy and they exited the plane.
Warfield, Macc and LaRez Sanazaro sat at a table in the plane and briefly made polite conversation, allowing Warfield and LaRez a little time to become comfortable with each other. Warfield asked LaRez to respect the sensitive and confidential nature of their discussion and gave him a ten-minute snapshot of the Joplan situation, emphasizing the critical timing. When he was finished, Sanazaro leaned in and folded his arms on the table.
“So what you need is for this man Joplan to talk, and you think I can convince him it’s the thing to do.”
Warfield nodded. “Assuming you’ve got friends in the right place.” LaRez’s eyes were partially obscured by wild untrimmed eyebrows. Warfield figured it was intentional. Hard to read a man if you can’t see his eyes.
“Not the kind of favor I specialize in,” LaRez said.
Warfield felt himself wince but quickly stood up. He had come to ask. He had failed. He understood. This was clearly not a man who bluffed. Warfield needed to move on to another solution and there was no time to waste.
LaRez motioned for him to sit down and continued. “But I have no patience with people who are disloyal — whether it be to their family or their country. And America has been good to me. Where is your man Joplan?”
“Alexandria Detention Center, in D.C.”
LaRez stared out of the plane’s window at another aircraft landing in the distance. “If you could get him transferred to Atlanta, that federal pen there…that possible?”
Warfield said it was.
“Cosmo Terracina is the man there who will help you. Can you believe life without parole, and what he did was nothing if you think of the damage a traitor like your Joplan can do, or those Islamic terrorists.” LaRez shook his head in disgust. “I’d be proud to have Cosmo sit at my table again. He’s an honorable man.”
Warfield and Macc looked at each other and at LaRez. He wasn’t offering any more information about this operator named Cosmo and they didn’t ask.