CHAPTER FORTY
12:01 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
Key Biscayne, Florida
A large gray Sikorsky helicopter came in low across the bay from Miami, an executive chopper which could carry eighteen or twenty passengers.
Susan stood near the front doorway to El Malo’s house, watching the chopper land. She felt a nervous tickle in her stomach. She was flanked by three large Secret Service men—people who were loyal to Chuck Berg, and who had kept their mouths shut about this situation since the White House shootings.
Chuck himself stood just outside the door on the stone porch. The super-size bronze statue of El Malo and his dogs was just down the stairs from him.
“Who are they, and why do they think they’re here?” Susan said.
Chuck didn’t move or change his posture. He just kept his eyes on th
