Castillo waved him off.
"There's more room in the van," Castillo said.
Delchamps opened his door and ran around the front of the BMW and quickly got into the Traffik.
"No, Max!" Castillo ordered sternly and reached around the dog and opened the rear door.
Max looked at both open doors, decided they had been opened for him, and that he had misunderstood Castillo-that what Castillo had really said was, "Go, Max!"
"Oh, shit!" Castillo said, then slid across the seat and followed Max into the van. He saw that Alfredo Munz was seated in the third row of seats.
"We're going to meet Aleksandr Pevsner," Castillo said. "They expect us-Delchamps, Munz, and me-to be in the Bimmer. So we'll be in this. If they hit the BMW-a real possibility-just get the hell out of the line of fire. If anybody is here, they're probably ex-Stasi and therefore good at what they do. And while I would really like to take them out, a firefight with bodies lying all over would cause all sorts of problems I don't need."
"Where do you think they're going to hit us, Colonel?" Jack Davidson asked. "On the road somewhere? The highway?"
"Let's find out," Castillo said and took out his cellular, punched an autodial button, and then the SPEAKERPHONE button.
"?Hola?" Pevsner's voice loudly came over the phone.
"You really ought to work on getting rid of the Russian accent," Castillo said. "You really sound funny."
"Well?"
"Tell me more about this suite of yours in the Sheraton," Castillo said.
"Alfredo has agreed to meet me with me?"
"No. I'm thinking of taking a suite in the hotel myself," Castillo said, "and thought I'd have a look at yours first."
"It's on the fourth floor, 407," Pevsner said. "There is a stairway, then the elevators, and 407 is the second door on the right."
"And who would be in 407 if I decided to call?"
"No one. May I make a proposal?"
"Go ahead."
"You tell me when you can be there and I will get there ten minutes before you do. There is a basement garage…"
"People have been known to get whacked in basement garages."
"There is also an outside parking garage. But people going to and from it are far more visible than those using the basement garage. Your choice."
"That's your proposal?"
"I will have Janos check out the suite or he and I will check it out."
"And then?"
"There is a lobby bar. If you park outside, walk across the lobby and there it is. If you park in the basement, there is an elevator. Take it to the lobby floor and then turn right. Janos will go there and bring you to the suite."
"You will come to the bar," Castillo said.
"All right."
"I can leave here in five minutes and it will take me twenty minutes to get there," Castillo said.
"Thank you. And tell Alfredo I said thank you."
"Twenty-five minutes, Alek. Be there," Castillo said and broke the connection.
"It's only ten minutes from here to the Sheraton, Karl," Munz said, in German.
"I know," Castillo said. "As soon as Davidson and Kensington get in the Bimmer, we'll go to the basement parking garage in this. Jack, you wait five minutes and then you go there. Tell Bradley to drive slowly."
"I'm not sure Bradley knows where the hotel is, Carlos," Solez said, in Spanish.
"Good. In case somebody's watching, let them see him looking for it as if he doesn't know where it is," Castillo said. "When you get to the basement, park somewhere where we can get out in a hurry. Pevsner probably will be in a big black Mercedes, an S600, operative word probably."
"Got it," Davidson said. "I'm a little confused, Charley. Are you going to be in that bar or what?"
"Not on your life. If Pevsner shows up when he's supposed to, in the basement garage, the minute he gets out of it we'll get out and join him. And go right to his suite. That's when we'll really have to have our back covered."
"Got it," Davidson repeated.
"Okay you two. Get in the BMW."
Davidson and Kensington moved to the car. Kensington returned to hand Castillo a small package just as Solez was starting the engine.
Castillo opened it. It was the Micro Uzi and its magazines.
"Not to worry, Ace," Delchamps said. "Everybody gets a little forgetful once in a while, especially when they get older."
Castillo chose not to respond. Instead, he said, "Don't get us pinched for speeding, Ricardo, but the sooner we get there, the better." Castillo had seen the Sheraton Pilar Hotel before and remembered where it was, but he had never paid much attention to it. Now he wanted to.
"Drive real slow when you get close to the hotel, Ricardo," he ordered.
Solez missed the turn off of Route 8. They now would have to go to the next exit, by the Jumbo shopping center, cross the highway on an overpass, and approach the hotel by a service road.
Castillo kept himself from snapping at Solez and was glad he had when he realized that it was probably a good thing Solez had missed the turn. Now they'd have a chance to look over the hotel and the approaches to it more slowly.
As they came close to the Sheraton Pilar Hotel and Convention Center, a fairly new brick-walled structure four or five stories high, Castillo saw, in a line of small businesses, a glass-fronted store with ECO LAUNDRY AND DRY CLEANING on the window. There were two white vans like the one Davidson had told him Bradley had chased around Mayerling on his bicycle.
Hell, better safe than sorry. Davidson did the right thing.
When they turned into the hotel's driveway two hundred yards later, Castillo saw that the outside parking lot Pevsner had mentioned was to the left of the main entrance to the atrium lobby. To the right was another entrance that looked deserted.
That one, Castillo decided after a moment, was obviously the convention entrance to the Hotel and Convention Center. There was a small sign with an arrow pointing to the underground garage.
There was a rather steep down ramp. When Solez took a time-stamped parking ticket from a machine at the bottom, a fragile-looking barrier pole rose, giving them access.
That barrier wouldn't keep anybody out of here, but it probably sets off an alarm if somebody goes through it.
The low-ceilinged garage was not crowded, maybe fifty, sixty vehicles. There was room for at least twice that many cars.
Strange. It's the dinner hour. It should be nearly full. Answer: This garage was designed to handle convention traffic. Obviously, there is no convention tonight.
"Circle it once, Ricardo," Castillo ordered. "And then park over there."
He pointed to a spot which would give them quick access to the exit ramp. Another frail-looking barrier pole guarded that.
Obviously, Ricardo is going to pay that ticket the machine gave him or have it stamped, or whatever, to get that barrier pole to rise.
If we have to leave here in a hurry, so long barrier pole and off goes the alarm!
There was, near one end of the garage, another white ECO laundry and dry-cleaning truck backed up to what was probably a service elevator. Large, white cloth-sided wheeled baskets were clustered around the truck.
This place is nice, but it's not the MGM Grand in Las Vegas with-what did I hear?-some five thousand rooms? It probably makes more economic sense for the hotel to have the local laundry do the sheets and towels as necessary rather than running its own laundry.
When Solez had backed the Traffik into the spot Castillo had picked, he saw that it had been a lucky choice. It gave him a pretty good view of most of the garage. He could see the down ramp and the opening of a passageway with signs and an arrow pointing to the elevator.
"Now we wait," Delchamps said. "This is the part I love best about this job."
"You think he's going to come?" Castillo asked.
"Come, yeah," Delchamps said. "But with who and with what purpose in mind?"
"Ricardo, I don't suppose you have a leash?"
"A what?"
"For Max. I think he needs to take a leak. Walk him up the exit ramp and then, when you come back, walk him around the garage before you come back to the van. Let's see what he smells."