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"My master has spoken," Dave said. "Not you. McNab. They'll be here for lunch tomorrow. How long are you going to need them?"
"You are tenacious, aren't you?"
"That's why I got promoted eighteen months before you did."
Another of the pilots said, "I thought that had something to do with Charley being out of uniform while flying a borrowed Black Hawk."
The others laughed.
"Come to think of it…," Dave said, which produced more laughter. And then he went on, "And really coming to think about it, he was really much better-looking wearing a beard and Afghan robes, wasn't he? In these civvies, he looks like a used-car salesman."
Castillo gave him the finger.
"Richardson, can we mooch a ride from you out to Cairns?" Dave asked.
"Of course," Richardson said. "Castillo, will I be needed here any more tonight?"
Castillo shook his head. "Why don't you meet us at Hanchey at, say, 0730?"
"I'll be there," Richardson said, then looked at Dave. "Anytime you're ready, Colonel."
"Charley," Dave said, "you take care of my scalawags and ne'er-do-wells, or I'll have your ass."
Castillo nodded.
As Richardson opened the door to leave, Neidermeyer came through it.
"Hey, Jamie, long time no see!" Dave said, offering his hand.
"Good to see you, sir. You going to be in on this?"
"No, goddamn it, I'm not. McNab said, 'Not only no, but hell no!'"
"Remember to send the colonel a postcard, Neidermeyer," Castillo said.
"Yes, sir, I'll do that."
He waited until the door was closed, then went around shaking the hands of the people he knew and was introduced to the others.
"Presumably you have put the antenna back up on the roof?" Castillo said.
"Yes, sir. We should be up."
"Get on it, please, Jamie. Tell Miller and General McNab that we're back and that we have four pilots and two crew chiefs here, and are promised the others by noon tomorrow. And check to see what's going on."
"Yes, sir."
Castillo went to the table, took his laptop from his briefcase, and booted it up.
As the computer hard drive made whirring sounds, he looked up at the others.
"You know the drill," he said. "This is where I tell you the operation is Top Secret and anyone who lets anything out goes to Leavenworth. The only difference this time is that the se
curity classification is Top Secret Presidential. Anyone with a loose lip gets two years as a Phase I Instructor Pilot and then goes to Leavenworth."
"A Presidential Finding, Charley?" one of them asked.
Castillo nodded.
