Neidermeyer looked at Castillo for guidance.
"He works for General McNab, Randy," General Crenshaw said. "At the moment, he's not wearing his uniform. When Castillo was here the last time, neither was he. He told me he was in the Secret Service. Mysterious indeed are the ways of the Special Operations Command and those in it."
"Well, now that that's out in the open," General Wilson said, "am I sticking my nose in where it's not particularly welcome?"
"No, sir. Not at all," Castillo said. "I'm scrounging things for General McNab, but, if you're free, I'd love to buy you and your bride dinner tonight."
"Beth and her mother are at this moment preparing dinner," Richardson said. "She said she couldn't remember the last time she saw you."
Odd. I remember it with great clarity.
"The invitation of course includes you and Mrs. Crenshaw, General," Richardson went on. "And you, Mr. Neidermeyer."
"I don't want to intrude, Richardson," General Crenshaw said.
"It wouldn't be an intrusion at all, sir. And it would give you and the general more time together."
Crenshaw looked at Castillo to see what he should do.
"And you and I could talk about the terrible things we had to do as aides-de-camp to difficult generals, General," Castillo said, then smiled.
"Who was yours?" Crenshaw said.
"Bruce J. McNab."
"I didn't know that," Crenshaw said. "I'd love to hear what that was like. Yes, Colonel Richardson. Mrs. Crenshaw and I gratefully accept your kind invitation to dinner."
"General Crenshaw, could I have a moment of your and Randy's time?" Castillo asked.
"Certainly."
Crenshaw led them to the pilots' lounge, politely asked the two pilots there if they would mind giving them a few minutes alone, and then looked at Castillo.
"This operation is highly classified, sir," Castillo said. "The fewer people who know I'm here, or have been here, the better. What I need is four H-Model Hueys for an operation-"
"What kind of an operation?" Richardson interrupted.
"If you don't know that, Randy," Castillo said somewhat impatiently, "then you can truthfully swear that I didn't tell you what I wanted them for."
Of all the light colonels at Rucker, I get Righteous Randolph?
Richardson nodded his understanding.
"They have to have GPS," Castillo went on, "and they have to be in very good shape. And, I have to tell you, you probably won't get them back."
Righteous's jaw just now about bounced off the tiled floor.
"We have been directed to give Colonel Castillo whatever he asks for, and that he has the highest priority," General Crenshaw said.
"How do we explain your presence if someone recognizes you?" Richardson asked.
"The cover story is that I'm an executive assistant to the secretary of Homeland Security, and that I'm here because this was the most convenient place for me to come and rent a light aircraft-I'll get to that in a minute-and fly to Pass Christian, Mississippi, on a mission for the secretary."
"Two things, Castillo," General Crenshaw said. "That area was badly mauled by Hurricane Katrina. I don't know if any fields down there are open. Have you considered a Black Hawk?"
"There's an airstrip where I'm going. It's open. And a light airplane will attract less attention than an Army helicopter. Neidermeyer went on the Internet and found a Cessna 206H available for charter at the airport in Ozark-"
"The Flying Hearse," Crenshaw interrupted, chuckling.