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ked.
"Yes, there is."
"Tell me about it, please."
"May I ask why you're asking?"
"What, is it classified or something, Walter?" Torine asked, sarcastically.
"Yes, sir, as a matter of fact it is. The configuration of all Eighty-ninth Presidential Airlift Group aircraft is classified-"
"Jesus Christ!" Torine exploded. "And you're worried Castillo doesn't have the proper clearance-or maybe it's me?"
For a moment, Charley thought the light bird was goingto say just that. But then, as Castillo studied him, he thought, This chicken-shit light bird has only now decided that a full bird colonel sent on Presidential Orders as pilot in command of a Globemaster more than likely has the proper security clearances, and since he was senior, if he said it was all right to describe the configuration of the Gulfstream, any breach of security would fall on his shoulders.
"Three of the seats on the left side of the cabin can be placed in a horizontal position," the light bird began. "There is a mattress and sheets-rubber and the ordinary kind-stored behind the galley. Behind the paneling by the sheets is some other medical equipment. A blood pressure device, things like that. And an oxygen feed, connected to the aircraft's main oxygen supply."
"What's on your mind, Charley?" Torine asked.
Castillo didn't reply directly.
"Colonel, you came direct from Washington," Castillo said. "Can I extrapolate that to mean you can go direct Jorge Newbery-Philadelphia?"
"Are you a pilot, Major Castillo?"
Aha! Somebody's tipped him-and I think I know who-that he's dealing with a lowly major. That's why he doesn't want me to know the secrets of the Gulfstream.
"Yes, I am," Castillo said.
"With some experience in long-distance, jet-long-distance, flight?"
"I know for a fact that he flew the right seat of a 727 from Costa Rica to MacDill, and worked the radios and everything," Torine said, smiling at Charley. "What's with all the questions, Walter?"
"Sir, it would be easier if the major were conversant with the problems involved in a flight of that distance."
"Can your fancy little bird make it from here to Philadelphia nonstop, or not, Walter? Jesus Christ!" Torine exploded.
"Theoretically, yes. But it would be prudent to think of somewhere to refuel if fuel consumption turned out to be greater for one reason or another than planned for."
"Worst fuel-consumption scenario, Colonel. Can you make it from here to Miami?"
"Very probably. There are never any guarantees."
"What about MacDill?" Castillo asked. "As a refueling stop?"
"Very probably," the lieutenant colonel said, after considering it for a moment.
"Thank you," Castillo said.
"But speaking hypothetically, MacDill requires advance notice-twelve hours, I believe, I'd have to check-to refuel transient aircraft."
"I'm not being hypothetical, Colonel," Castillo said. "What's going to happen is this: Ambassador Silvio at this moment is arranging for an American physician…"
He paused and looked at Torine.
"… who fortunately (a) is a fellow Miami Cuban, and (b) is in town conducting a seminar at the University of Belgrano, and a nurse or maybe two."
Torine nodded his understanding, and Castillo looked back at the lieutenant colonel.
