“Therefore, my official role in this is over, at least until General Naylor gives me further orders. On a personal note, however, Colonel Ferris is a friend of mine, and I would like to thank you personally, Mr. Stevens, for your help.”
“I’m only too happy to do whatever I can, General,” Stevens said.
“And, really unofficially, I’m personally curious to know who this fellow Felix Abrego is.”
“I suspect, General, that he’s probably in a federal prison,” Stevens said. “I can find out for you. Actually, I’m curious myself. I can have that information for you probably within the hour.”
“You understand that’s a personal request, not an official one?”
“Understood. Not a problem. You could find out yourself by going to the Federal Bureau of Prisons website. But I think I can get the information more quickly through my channels.”
“I’d really be grateful, Mr. Stevens,” McNab said. “Gentlemen, unless you have something for me?”
Colonels Tufts and Dawson chorused, “No, sir.”
“Then thank you for answering my call so quickly,” McNab said, and stood and offered his hand.
When they had left his office and D’Alessandro had closed the door, D’Alessandro turned to McNab.
“Don’t look so pleased with yourself. When Naylor and the DEA CG hear how charming and modest you’ve been, they’re going to smell the Limburger.”
“Mr. D’Alessandro, I have no idea what you’re suggesting. General Naylor may even decide I have considered my wicked ways and have reformed.”
D’Alessandro snorted.
McNab opened his Brick and took out the telephone handset, activated the loudspeaker function, and pushed a button.
“Aloysius? Bruce McNab.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Can you set up a net within the net?”
“To do what?”
“So that I can cut Natalie Cohen out of the loop without her knowing.”
“I thought she was one of the good guys.”
“She is. She’s so good it’s going to be a problem. I suspect she’s not going to like what she might hear.”
“Who do you want on the net?”
“All the Outlaws, plus Vic D’Alessandro and Lammelle.”
“Just them?”
“Just them.”
“And you want the other net to still function?”
“That’s it. Can do?”
“It’ll take me about an hour. I’ll call you back when it’s up.”
“You will get your reward in Heaven, Aloysius.”
FOUR
1700 Arizona Boulevard San Antonio, Texas 0905 14 April 2007
Dona Alicia Castillo was waiting for Charley and Sweaty when they walked into the breakfast room. Charley’s grandmother was seated at the head of the table drinking a steaming cup of cafe con leche. The table was set for four, and on each plate was a grapefruit half topped with a maraschino cherry.
Max trotted over to the dignified old woman and waited for her to scratch his ears.
“Good morning,” Dona Alicia said. “You slept well, I hope.”
Charley and Sweaty walked over to her and kissed her cheek.
“Abuela, if she didn’t snore like a backfiring John Deere, I’d have probably slept better.”
His grandmother ignored him.
“Shall we wait for Lester?” she asked.
“I looked in his room,” Castillo said. “He was sleeping like a cherub. Nobody was snoring in his room.”
This earned him an icy flash from his grandmother.
“I’d forgotten how beautiful this is,” Sweaty said quickly, gesturing past the windows to the garden. “What a beautiful lawn!”
“You wouldn’t think it was so beautiful if you had to mow it,” Castillo said.
“Carlos’s grandfather believed boys should earn their allowances,” Dona Alicia said.
“He paid a dollar an acre,” Castillo said.
“Why don’t we eat?” Dona Alicia said. “We have so much to talk about. Would you say grace, darling?”
“Abuela’s talking to you, my love,” Castillo said. “Try to keep it under five minutes.”
His grandmother shook her head.
“Dear God,” Sweaty began, “we thank You for the bounty we are about to receive. We thank You for our families, and ask that You keep them safe. We ask Your protection for those who are prisoners, and ask that they be soon safely reunited with their families. We ask this in the name of Jesus Christ, thy Son and our Lord and Savior. Amen.”
She turned to Charley.
“Short enough for you, my heathen?”
He made a waving gesture with his hand, suggesting she had more or less met his criteria.
“You had Colonel Ferris in mind, didn’t you, Svetlana?” Dona Alicia asked.
Sweaty nodded. “Yes.”
“Abuela, what do we have to talk about so much?” Castillo asked as he picked the maraschino cherry from his grapefruit and popped it into his mouth.
She gestured toward the windows.
“Well, Carlos, why don’t we start with those men walking around outside the fence?”
Charley and Sweaty exchanged glances.
After a moment he said, “Oh, you noticed, huh?”
“Even before Mr. Lafferty of Gladiator Security called me and said I had no cause for concern, that there were six of them and a half dozen more could be here in less than five minutes if they were needed.”
Castillo took a moment to frame his reply.
While he was doing so, Dona Alicia asked, “Have you noticed, Svetlana dear, that ‘who me?’ look on Carlos’s face when you catch him with his hand in the cookie jar?”
“Abuela,” Castillo began carefully, “think of the security guys as me just being extra-careful.”
“About what?”
“Do you want me to tell her, Carlito?” Sweaty said.
“I wish you would, dear,” Dona Alicia said. “I don’t think you’re nearly as good at getting around the truth as he is.”
Castillo gestured for Sweaty to go ahead.
“We have good reason, Abuela,” Sweaty said matter-of-factly, “to believe that the SVR is behind the kidnapping of Colonel Ferris and the assassinations of the other Americans. That it is a diversion in their plans to get at Carlito, my brother, our cousin Aleksandr, and me.”
“And you’re worried that this might involve me?” Dona Alicia asked calmly.
“Yes, ma’am,” Castillo said.
“What about Billy Kocian and Otto Gorner? I’d think if I were at risk, so would they be.”
“We think that whatever the SVR tries,” Castillo said, “it will be in Mexico. Or here. But just to be sure, Abuela, I gave Sandor Tor a call and told him what we think is going on.”
“Not Otto?”
He shook his head.
“Why not?” she asked.
It was not an idle question but rather more on the order of a rebuke.
“Two reasons,” Castillo replied. “After the SVR murdered that Tages Zeitung reporter-I forget his name-”
“His name was Gunther Friedler,” Dona Alicia said evenly, “and you should be ashamed of yourself for not knowing his name. He was one of your employees!”
Castillo looked at her a long moment, then nodded.
“Yes, ma’am, you’re right. What I started to say, Abuela, was that after Herr Friedler was murdered, Billy arranged for Sandor Tor to take over all security for Gossinger Beteiligungsgesellschaft, G.m.b.H. He told Otto that if Otto’s security people had done their job, Herr Friedler would still be alive. So Otto went along.
“Anyway, I called Sandor-Billy and Sandor-and told them what we thought. Both agreed, by the way, with what we think. It probably took no more than half an hour before Sandor’s people were sitting on Otto and his family.”
“You didn’t call Otto? Why not?”
“That’s the second reason,” Castillo said, pointing to a leather attache case sitting on a sideboard. “Otto doesn’t answer his Brick. He thinks the CIA listens to everything he says over it.”
“Does it?”