“Do I have your attention now, Colonel?” Clete asked.
Almond stared at him, wide-eyed.
“Here’s the rules. You stop asking questions about Galahad. If you do, I will find out, and I will either kill you myself or have you killed.”
“Do you realize what you’re saying, Major?”
“Yes, I do. If you ever appear anywhere near my estancia, or my homes in Buenos Aires, you will be shot on sight. Or, anyway, killed. People here like to use knives.”
“Well, then, you better kill me right here and now,” Almond said. “Because if you don’t, I intend to make a full report of this incident.”
“I expect you to,” Clete said. “But you’d better consider—and you will have time to think it over in the next couple of days—what you’re going to say in your report.”
“What I would do, Almond,” Ashton said, “if I were in your shoes, would be one of two things. I would report that you compromised your mission here—that you blew it, in other words—and that not only do you feel you can do no more good here, but that you have received death threats
—”
“You heard those death threats, Captain, if I have to remind you of that!”
“I didn’t hear any death threats,” Ashton said. “Did you hear any death threats, Lieutenant Pelosi?”
“No, Sir.”
“If I may continue, Colonel,” Ashton said. “Or you can stay here, enjoy the good life, and forget you ever heard ‘Galahad.’”
“I think you should shoot him, Señor Clete,” Enrico Rodríguez said. “Or let me. I don’t trust him.”
“You can shoot him the first time you see him near Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo, or anywhere near the houses in Buenos Aires,” Clete said. “I really don’t want to kill him unless I have to.”
He turned to Almond. “I really don’t want to kill you, but I will if I have to. And for something else to think about in the next couple of days: If I have to, the Argentine government will consider that I’ve done them a favor.”
“What is this ‘next couple of days’ business? Is that some sort of ultimatum?”
“I think it will take you at least a couple of days to get back to Buenos Aires,” Clete said. “Would you give me your wallet, please?”
“What?”
“Your wallet, Almond,” Clete said. “It’ll be returned to you in Buenos Aires.”
“You’re not going to leave me here!”
“Yes, I am,” Clete said. “Enrico, get his wallet. And make sure he has no other identification on him.”
“Sí, Señor.”
“When we get home, mail his stuff to him at the embassy,” Clete ordered.
“Sir,” Ashton said. “I could just leave it on his desk at the embassy.”
“Better yet,” Clete said.
Enrico professionally searched Almond, and took his money, his diplomatic carnet, his diplomatic passport, and his keys.
“Give them to Captain Ashton, please,” Clete said.
“Sí, Senor.”
When he had finished, Clete handed him the pistol. “Careful, there’s still one in the chamber,” he said.