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“I think we really are the good guys,” Yung said.
“What are your plans to protect Señora Munz and the girls? Perhaps I can help.”
“They’re going to the States,” Yung said. “Tomorrow.”
“Alfredo will join them there?”
“No. He wouldn’t go.”
“If I didn’t believe you were the good guys, I might suspect that his family were hostages to his good behavior.”
“That’s absolutely untrue,” Yung snapped. “He’s staying here to help us find out who these bastards are.”
“Well, as step one, I will ensure that the Munz family is safe until they get on the plane with you and Lorimer’s casket.”
Oh, shit! And I have to tell him!
“They’re not going with me,” Yung said. “A private plane will come here sometime tomorrow. They’ll go on that.”
“A Learjet?”
He’ll find out anyway.
“No. A Gulfstream.”
“I thought Señor—or is it Major?—Castillo had a Learjet.”
“Lieutenant Colonel Castillo has many airplanes.”
“And you work for Lieutenant Colonel Castillo, do you, David?”
Why deny that? It’s self-evident.
“I do now.”
“And my cousin Julio?”
Yung nodded. “As of yesterday.”
“And who does Lieutenant Colonel Castillo work for? The CIA?”
“No. He doesn’t work for the CIA.”
“Then whom?”
“That’s another question I can’t answer.”
“When you worked here as an FBI agent, were you really working for the CIA?”
“No.”
“What was—what is—your interest in Señor Lorimer?”
“Money laundering.”
“That’s all?”
“I thought he was a Lebanese named Bertrand and I was trying to find out where he got all those American dollars.”
