It was held in the Great Room, which Castillo, perhaps because too much champagne always gave him debilitating hangovers, decided had been converted into a throne room for Tsar Aleksandr I, Empress Anna, Grand Duchess Svetlana, the Imperial Children, and visiting nobility, such as himself, Corporal Bradley, and Colonel Munz.
There were no actual thrones, but the chair in which Pevsner sat had a higher back than that of his wife, which in turn was higher than those of everybody else. János was not around, and Castillo wondered where he was.
Father Frost and Snegurochka were back, as was the balalaika quartet. This time Father Frost and Snegurochka were standing by an enormous stack of packages. The quartet began to play. János appeared, ushered into the room perhaps eighty people, ranging from bearded elders to children, and then walked up to Father Frost.
Father Frost took a small package from the stack and gave it to Pevsner, who unwrapped it, opened a small box, and took from it a wristwatch, which he then held up for everybody to see. There was a murmur of approval from “the people.”
Next, Father Frost gave Anna a package, and a moment later, she held up a string of pearls for everyone to see. Next came Svetlana, who also got a string of pearls.
Castillo had just decided that the kids had gotten their presents earlier. He looked at Elena and saw there was a string of pearls around her neck he hadn’t noticed before.
Now what?
Father Frost handed him a small box.
Jesus Christ, a Rolex.
“Hold it up, hold it up!” Svetlana hissed.
He held it up.
Corporal Bradley got a small package and moments later held up his Rolex for the approval of the people.
Colonel Alfredo Munz got his Rolex.
Well, Pevsner probably gets a discount if he buys them by the dozen.
What did he say? “I took five percent of a lot more than a billion dollars’ worth of gold, Charley. And about twice that much of platinum.”
And finally, János got his Rolex, and then began reading from a list of names.
An old man left the group, approached the throne, literally tugged at his hair in front of Pevsner. Pevsner nodded. Father Frost handed the old man a package. He opened it. It contained a small, flat-screen television. The people murmured their approval.
János called out another name, and a young woman approached the throne, and tugged at her hair, then took her package from Father Frost.
It was more than an hour before the last of the people filed out of the throne room carrying their New Year’s presents.
Tsar Aleksandr rose from his throne.
“This will displease Anna,” he said. “But despite the hour, I am going to have a drink. That always wears me out. But the people expect it of me. You’ll join me, of course?”
This is where I am supposed to say, “Alek, neither Lester nor I can accept a gift like those Rolexes.”
Castillo saw that Lester was examining the new watch on his wrist.
What the hell. He saved Pevsner’s life.
“Just one,” Castillo said. “And then I’m going to take a nap. I have to fly in the morning.”
“Happy New Year, Charley!” Pevsner said, touching his glass of vodka from an ice-encrusted bottle to Castillo’s glass.
“Happy New Year,” Castillo said. “Alek, those people. They were Russian, right? Or at least most of them?”
Pevsner nodded.
“Where did they come from?”
“Russia,” Pevsner said, obviously delighted with himself. When he saw the look on Castillo’s face, he said, “I learned that from you. If I do that to Anna, she usually throws something at me.”
“How’d they get here?”
“They’re Jews, most of them. They have worked for people in the Oprichina for many years. When the Communists decided to let some of the Jews leave to go to Israel, we first warned them they probably wouldn’t like it, and then we arranged for them to go first.
“They didn’t like it. The culture shock, the climate—what is it you Americans say? ‘One more goddamned sunny day in L.A.’?; Tel Aviv is worse—what they saw of the future, the suicide bombers. They wanted to leave, but they didn’t want to go back to Russia. So I arranged for them to come here. One day the children will join all the Russian Jews in Argentina. There are forty thousand Jewish gauchos here, originally from Eastern Europe. Did you know that?”
Castillo nodded. “I’d heard that.”
“For now the parents work for me.”
“Alek, I don’t know what to say about that Rolex.”
“How about ‘thank you’?”
“You have learned, haven’t you?”
“The people, the Jews, would say, ‘Wear it in good health.’”
“Thank you.”
[SIX]
Aeropuerto Internacional Jorge Newbery
Buenos Aires, Argentina
1240 2 January 2006
As Castillo taxied the Aero Commander to the private aircraft tarmac, he saw that there were two Gulfstreams parked side by side.
One was his. The other bore USAF markings and was painted in the paint scheme of the Presidential Flight Detachment.
“Oh, shit,” he said.
He parked the Aero Commander by the USAF Gulfstream.
“I see Davidson,” Munz said. “And there are several of Pevsner’s people, too. And several of Duffy’s.”
“And I see that Gulfstream. Alfredo, can you take Svetlana to that second safe house you mentioned? Golf and Polo, Polo and Golf, whatever?”
“I am going with you,” Svetlana announced.
“You’ll do what I say. Fun-and-games time is over. Got it?”
She nodded.
“What I’m going to do is get out and have a word with the pilot,” Castillo said. “You stay—everybody but Max—in the airplane. If I walk toward Davidson, stay in the plane until we’re gone, then take Svetlana and Lester to the Polo whatever. Got it?”
“What is it, Charley?”
“I suspect it’s very bad news. The only thing that could make it worse is if they see me with Svetlana.”
“You don’t think that’s Montvale?”
“I think it’s either him or his flunky,” Castillo said. “We’ll soon find out. Open the door, please.”
Svetlana didn’t kiss him as he walked, bent nearly double, past her seat. But she stopped him, laid her hand on his cheek, and looked for a long moment into his eyes.
That was at least as intimate as a kiss.
There were two Air Force types in flying suits standing near the nose of the Gulfstream. One drew the attention of the other to Max performing his ritual at the nose gear, and then to the man in khaki trousers and a polo shirt walking toward them.
The taller of them, Castillo saw, was a light colonel wearing command pilot wings, the other a captain wearing ordinary wings.
“You speak English, sir?” the lieutenant colonel asked.
“I try,” Castillo said.
“Nice dog,” the lieutenant colonel said.
“Thank you.”
Max trotted over, sat down, and offered his paw.
The lieutenant colonel squatted and scratched Max’s ears.
“Nice airplane,” Castillo said. “Presidential Flight Detachment, right?”
The lieutenant colonel looked up at him, then stood up, but did not reply.
“I’m the SVR rezident in Buenos Aires, Colonel. We like to keep up on what our American friends are doing.”
He then handed the lieutenant colonel the identification card of Lieutenant Colonel C. G. Castillo, Special Forces, U.S. Army.
The lieutenant colonel, recognizing the card immediately, smiled, then did a double take and examined it carefully.