The Hostage Part 57

"And she didn't tell them?"

"She doesn't know where he is. He works for the UN in Paris, but we can't find him."

"Interesting."

"She said they killed Masterson to make the point that they meant what they said."

"And you have no idea why they want the brother?"

"No. All I know is they shot Masterson with Israeli-made nine-millimeter cartridges, and killed the Marine sergeant driving my car-and wounded a female Secret Service agent in the car-by sticking one of those through the window and emptying the magazine, also loaded with Israeli-made nine-millimeters."

"With a Madsen?"

Castillo nodded.

"How do you know that?"

"I think Sergeant Markham saw it coming, and as he tried to move out of the way, pushed the window-up b.u.t.ton. It was automatic, and caught the Madsen. It was still in the window when I got there."

"That's interesting, too. There's not too many Madsens around. And that's all you know?"

"And I just now learned, in a sixty-second conversation with Mrs. Masterson, about Masterson getting whacked to make the point that they want the brother at any cost."

"Somebody's going to have to talk to her some more," D'Allessando said.

"I know. I don't know how much time there will be now, but that's why I'm here."

"Who's in charge?"

"I am."

"I mean, now that they're in the States. And after the funeral?"

"I am, Vic."

"No s.h.i.+t?"

"The President just told me."

"That's stretching your envelope some, isn't it, Charley?"

"Understatement of the year," Castillo replied. "I'd like to introduce you to Mrs. Masterson, Vic. See if you can rea.s.sure her that she's safe now."

"I want to meet her, too," D'Allessando said. "Now?"

Castillo nodded.

D'Allessando spoke to a lapel microphone Castillo had not noticed.

"Three coming through the side door," he announced.

[FOUR].

Lieutenant Colonel McElroy, the aide to the commander in chief, was standing at the foot of the steps to the pa.s.senger compartment of the Globemaster.

"Sir," he said, when he saw Castillo and the others coming, "the Masterson family is alone up there."

"My name is Castillo. Would you please go up and tell Mrs. Masterson I'd like a brief word with her?"

"Sir, Mrs. Masterson asked that the family not be disturbed."

"Do it, Colonel," Colonel Torine ordered.

"Yes, sir," Lieutenant Colonel McElroy said, and started up the stairs.

Castillo looked down the cargo compartment of the Globemaster. Corporal Lester Bradley, now wearing his dress blue uniform, was standing almost at attention while talking to a Marine captain.

Castillo walked to them.

"You look very spiffy, Corporal," Castillo said.

"Thank you, sir."

"Captain, what's Corporal Bradley's role in the ceremony?"

"May I ask who you are, sir?"

"My name is Castillo."

"Phrased another way, Captain," Colonel Torine added, "he's the man."

The captain looked at them curiously, and then replied to Torine: "Sir, immediately after the ceremony, when the sergeant's remains are taken from the hangar, the corporal will meet up with the cask-"

"Captain," Castillo interrupted. "I told the gunny in Buenos Aires that Corporal Bradley will accompany Sergeant Markham's remains all the way home. I'm sure he pa.s.sed that on to Sergeant Markham's buddies. I want that to happen. Make room for him in the ceremony."

"Sir, I'm not sure that will be poss-"

"Do it, Captain," Colonel Torine ordered flatly.

The captain considered that just long enough for it to be perceptible, then said, "Aye, aye, sir."

"Thank you," Castillo said. "I'll see you later, Bradley."

"Yes, sir."

Castillo saw Mrs. Masterson coming down the stairway and hurried forward.

"I'm glad you're here, Mr. Castillo. My father is here, and the less he knows about the threats made, the better. He has a heart condition."

"I understand," Castillo said. "Mrs. Masterson, this is Mr. D'Allessando. Have you ever heard of Delta Force?"

"There was a terrible movie," she said. "You mean there's really something like that?"

"Yes, ma'am, there is. The real Delta Force is made up of the best of Special Forces. They're not much like what you see in the movies, but they are really professional. Mr. D'Allessando has been a.s.sociated with Delta for a long time, and he's brought twenty-four men here with him to make sure you and your family are all right."

"That's very rea.s.suring," she said. "I'm really pleased to meet you, Mr. D'Allessando."

"I'm really sorry about your husband, ma'am," he said. "That shouldn't have happened."

"Thank you," she said.

Castillo saw a very tall, very slim man in an elegant double-breasted dark suit coming down the stairs.

My G.o.d, he looks just like Masterson! The only difference is the white hair and that absolutely immaculate pencil-line mustache.

The man walked up to them and smiled.

"Dad," Betsy Masterson said, "this is Mr. Castillo and Mr. D'Allessando. Gentlemen, my father-in-law, Winslow Masterson."

"How do you do?" Masterson asked, offering his hand. "May I ask which of you is Mr. Castillo?"

"I am, sir."

"I was actually about to go looking for you, sir, when it somewhat belatedly occurred to me that it was likely you were asking for a word with my daughter-in-law."

That accent is not what you expect to hear from a Mississippian, a farmer, or a black Mississippi farmer, or any combination thereof. What the h.e.l.l is it?

"May I be of some service, sir?" Castillo asked.

"First, let me express my appreciation for everything you have done for my daughter-in-law-"

"Sir, that's absolutely unneces-"

"Pray let me continue, sir."

"Pardon me, sir."

"And then let me inquire of you as a government official-I spoke with Colonel McElroy, who had absolutely no idea what I was talking about-why, in a situation like this, with all the resources of the government presumably at your disposal, you have been unable to make contact with Jean-Paul Lorimer?"

Betsy Masterson and Castillo exchanged glances.

"Sir . . ." Castillo began.

"Mrs. Masterson's father, Amba.s.sador Lorimer, is quite upset, Mr. Castillo. And if I may say so, understandably so. He has a certain physical condition and should not be under stress."

"Dad-" Betsy Masterson said.

"Please permit Mr. Castillo to answer the question, if he desires to do so."

"Sir, there are problems locating Mr. Lorimer. Mrs. Masterson is aware of them. . . ."

"Indeed?" Masterson asked, and looked at his daughter-in-law.

"I didn't want to get into it with my father listening."

Masterson nodded.

"I'd really like to explain much of this to you, sir," Castillo said, "but this, I suggest, is neither the time nor the place to do so."

"He's right, Dad," Betsy Masterson offered.

"Well, I need to know what's going on as soon as possible," Masterson said. "And at the plantation, your parents will be there, and it would be impossible to exclude them without . . ." He paused, visibly in thought, then nodded in obvious agreement with what he had thought of.

"Mr. Castillo, it was of course my intention to ask you to stay with us at the plantation."

"I wouldn't want to intrude, sir," Castillo protested.

Masterson dismissed that with a wave of his hand.

"But is there some reason you have to go there immediately after this?" Masterson inquired, gesturing toward the activities in the hangar. "Would my daughter-in-law and the children and of course the Lorimers be safe, in your judgment, if you weren't personally there for an hour or so?"

"Yes, sir, I'm sure they would be. In addition to the state police you already have, Mr. D'Allessando and his men-"

"You're thinking of the Belle Visage," Betsy Masterson said.

"And what do you think of me thinking of the Belle Visage?" Masterson asked.

"That'd do it, Dad," she said. "No one would disturb you there."

"Then it's settled. What we'll do as the cortege heads for the plantation, Mr. Castillo, is go to the Belle Visage. We can have our little talk in private and then go out to the plantation. You can ride with me. How does that sound?"

"Sir, I don't know what the Belle Visage is."

"It's a gambling h.e.l.l on the coast. There's a place there where we will not be disturbed."

"Whatever you say, sir. But there is one other problem. I have to establish contact with my cousin."

"Your cousin cousin? May I inquire what that's all about?"

"Excuse me," Torine said, "but I just heard the band play 'Hail to the Chief.'"

"Charley, I can handle things until you get to the . . . plantation plantation," Vic D'Allessando said, as they saw Lieutenant Colonel McElroy walking up to them. "Colonel, you want to come with me or go with Charley?"

"Charley?" Torine asked, seeking guidance.

"I'll see you at the plantation," Castillo said.

"You stay here, my dear," Winslow Masterson said. "I'll go get the children and your parents." He started for the stairs, then stopped and turned. "If you are seen with me, Mr. Castillo, there might be interest that at the moment neither of us wants. Can you get to the Belle Visage by yourself?"