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"Sir?"
Crenshaw smiled, then explained:
"Actually, it's a T206H-turbocharged. The fellow who owns the funeral home is a flying enthusiast. Flying is expensive-that airplane cost more than a quarter million dollars-but he thought he had the solution. If he had an airplane, he could fly cadavers to where they were going to be buried and charge the same thing airlines do-twice the price of the most expensive first-class ticket. That would be a substantial contribution to the cost of his hobby. He was so enthusiastic that he didn't check to see if a coffin would fit in the airplane. They don't. So, it is reliably reported, he transports-in of course the dead of night, so to speak-the cadavers in body bags, strapped into a seat, and has a casket waiting wherever he's going. I know him. I can call and set that up for you, if you'd like. You can fly a 206?"
"I can fly a 182 and a Citation," Castillo said. "Will that work?"
"I don't think that will be a problem," Crenshaw said. "But he'll probably want to ride around the pattern with you. Anything else?"
"There will be pilots and crew chiefs coming here from the 160th at Fort Campbell."
"General McNab told me," Crenshaw said, and looked at his aide. "Find accommodations for them, Richardson. They should start arriving tomorrow. Eight pilots and four crew chiefs."
"Yes, sir," Richardson said.
"And some supplies from Fort Bragg," Castillo added. "Which will have to be stored somewhere secure until they can be loaded on the Hueys."
"What kind of supplies?" Richardson asked.
"The kind that need someplace secure to store them," Castillo said, pointedly avoiding details.
"General McNab said they're coming by truck tonight," Crenshaw said to Richardson. "They'll probably be here by morning. Have the truck put in the MP impound lot until you can make better arrangements in the morning. And make sure the MPs are guarding the impound lot."
"Yes, sir," Richardson said.
"And as soon as possible, Neidermeyer has to get his radio up," Castillo said.
He saw the questioning look on Crenshaw's face.
"It's in the suitcase," Castillo said, nodding at it. "It doesn't take long, but I'd rather not do it here."
"May I ask what kind of a radio?" Richardson asked.
I am tempted to tell you, "None of your fucking business."
But resuming hostilities with you, Righteous, would be counterproductive.
"It's a rather amazing system developed by AFC," Castillo said. "Bounces s
ignals-voice and data, both really deeply encrypted-off satellites. When we get to Magnolia House, I'll show you how it works."
"I'd like to see that," Crenshaw said. "I just thought of something. How are you going to pay for the Flying Hearse?"
"American Express," Castillo said, reaching for his wallet. "Never leave home without it."
He took his AmEx card from his wallet and handed it to Crenshaw, who examined it. He then looked at Castillo.
"The Lorimer Charitable amp; Benevolent Fund," the general said.
Castillo nodded and grinned. "Yes, sir."
"I won't ask what that is," the general went on, "but will simply repeat what I said before, that mysterious indeed are the ways of the Special Operations Command and those in it." He paused. "I can call from the car on the way to the post, if you'd like. I'm driving my own car, but Richardson's got a van."
I'll be damned if I'm stuck riding the bus with Righteous.
"If you've room in your car, and I'm not an imposition, that'd be great, sir," Castillo said. "Thank you."
[TWO] "Would you like a drink, Charley?" General Wilson asked when they were inside the Magnolia House. "Under the circumstances, I'm going to allow myself to have one. And I might even allow my dear friend General Crenshaw here a little taste."
