"You can, Charley," Santini said and pointed in the general direction of the secure telephone.
Artigas thought: The Ranch? The Plantation? Dona Alicia? Abuela?
For Christ's sake, abuela is Spanish for "grandmother."
Does everything these people do come with a code name?
And how I am supposed to figure out what they mean?
"Okay," Castillo said, "I'll do that. I'll call Dona Alicia and Miller right now. And while I'm doing that, make sure everybody has everybody else's number on their cellulars. And when you use them, remember to use the code names. Which reminds me, we'll need one for Familia Munz. How about 'Mother'?"
"That's easy to remember," Santini said, drily. "Give me your cellular, Charley, and I'll make sure you have all the numbers."
Castillo handed it to him, then looked at Ambassador Silvio, wordlessly asking permission to use the secure telephone.
Silvio nodded and said, "Of course." "That was a hell of a lot easier than I thought it would be," Castillo announced when he came back into the room several minutes later.
He looked at Santini and went on: "Joel was there. He said no problem, and gave me a number to call when we know when we'll be at the ranch and they'll be waiting for us. He said to tell you hello."
Santini nodded.
Castillo turned to Solez. "Dona Alicia sends you a kiss. She made me promise to get a little rest while I'm having 'our meeting' at the ranch."
Solez nodded.
Castillo turned to Munz.
"The ranch is outside Midland, Texas, Alfredo. It's been in my family for a very long time. It's pretty large, even by Argentine standards. The reason for that is here you wonder how many head you can graze on one hectare. Out there, we wonder how many hectares it will take to feed one steer enough so that we can move him to a feeding pen. There's a nice house; your family will be comfortable. Most important, it'll be absolutely safe. There's an airstrip which can't be seen from the nearest road. No one will know who's there. And you heard what I said to Joel about the Secret Service?"
Munz nodded. "Thank you, Karl."
"Is that about it? Are we ready to move? Have we forgotten anything?"
"You can bet on that," Santini said. "But, yeah, we better get moving." [FIVE] Unicenter Panamericana Highway Buenos Aires, Argentina 1830 8 August 2005 David W. Yung, Jr., was more than a little embarrassed at the emotions he was feeling as he sat drinking a cup of hot chocolate with Julio Artigas at a small table in the food court, a collection of fast-food vendors on the top floor of the vast, multilevel shopping center.
He was sad and angry, emotions he knew were inappropriate for a special agent of the FBI, and especially for one who had just been assigned to the OOA and really wanted to stay there, which meant that he was going to have to prove he had the ability to be really calm and professional under pressure-not sad and really pissed-off.
He had just watched Colonel Alfredo Munz casually get up from another small round table forty feet away-one with a woman and two teenage girls sitting at it-and walk to the men's room.
Except going to take a leak and wash his hands wasn't what Munz was really doing.
What Munz was doing was carrying his family's passports to Solez, who was waiting for him in the men's room. What that in effect meant was that Munz was saying good-bye to his family for God only knew how long, turning them over to the protection of people-including a Chinese man with a bandaged hand-whom they had never seen before.
This showed on the girls' faces. They were young and pretty, Yung thought. One was about sixteen years old, the other a little older-on the cusp of young womanhood-and they were clearly frightened.
They should not be involved in something like this.
Goddamn these bastards!
The younger girl glanced at their table. Yung caught her eye and smiled at her, hoping it helped in some way tell her, It's going to be okay.
She looked startled for a moment, then looked away.
I shouldn't have done that. Someone may have seen it.
But, dammit, I wanted to give her some sign of encouragement.
As choreographed, Solez came out of the men's room, fumbled through his pockets, and just perceptibly nodded at Yung and Artigas. He took a package of cigarettes from his pocket and, taking his time about it, lit one with a Zippo lighter.
Munz, also as planned, came out a moment later, took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, put one to his lips, then looked unsuccessfully for a lighter or match. He looked at Solez, then asked for a light. Solez produced his Zippo and lit Munz's cigarette.
Munz looked very quickly at his wife and daughters, then headed for the escalator. Solez walked in the other direction, toward the elevator. This, too, was according to plan.
Castillo now appeared from the direction of the escalator. He feigned pleasant surprise when he noticed Yung and Artigas and walked to their table. They shook hands, patted backs, and made kissing gestures in the Argentine manner.
Now Senora Munz and the girls had seen all the players.
Castillo walked toward the elevator.
Artigas murmured, "See you at the terminal," and got up and walked toward the escalator.
Senora Munz waited until Munz had disappeared into the crowd that was waiting to get on the escalator, then collected her purse and stood, motioning for the girls to get up, too.
Yung fished a bill from his pocket and laid it on the table as a tip for the busboy. He stood up and felt the weight of his semiautomatic pistol as it shifted slightly.
Jesus Christ, he suddenly remembered. I don't have a round in the chamber!
It'll take forever to work the action with this goddamned bandaged hand!
He walked quickly into the men's room, into a stall, locked it, took out the pistol and worked the action by pressing the slide against the toilet paper holder. Then he put the pistol back in his shoulder holster, unlocked the stall door, and hurried out of the men's room.
There was a moment's panic when he couldn't immediately locate Familia Munz. Then he saw them in the knot of people waiting to get on the escalator.
The younger girl saw him walking toward them, looked a little relieved, and smiled.
He smiled at her again, then made his way to the escalator.
XI
[ONE] Piso 16, 1568 Avenida Arribenos Belgrano, Buenos Aires, Argentina 1940 8 August 2005 When Paul Sieno opened the steel apartment door for Castillo and El Coronel Alfredo Munz, SIDE, retired, Castillo saw that the living room of the apartment was crowded. Eric Kocian was sitting in a dark brown leather armchair, his elegantly shod feet resting, crossed, on a leather ottoman. He had a wineglass in one hand and a cigar in the other.
Holding court, Castillo thought, smiling.
A table holding platters of cheese and cold cuts, bottles of wine and ginger ale, and glasses was between two matching couches. Sandor Tor sat beside Susanna Sieno on one of them. Sergeant Major Jack Davidson and Colonel Jake Torine sat on the other, with Corporal Lester Bradley squeezed in between them. Fernando Lopez sat in an armchair obviously dragged from someplace else.
Everyone looked at Castillo and Munz.
Castillo thought, Davidson's wondering who the hell Munz is and what he's doing here.
Mr. Sieno very probably knows who he is, so she's really curious about what he's doing here.
And everybody-including Jack, Mr. Sieno, even Eric Kocian-is looking at me because they have the mistaken notion that James Bond just walked in with the answers to all their questions.
The truth is, once I get everybody settled in the safe house in Mayerling, and Munz's family safely through Uruguay and onto the Gulfstream, I don't have any idea what I'm going to do.
Since I don't know who the bad guys are, or even who they're working for, how the hell can I find the bastards?