The Honor of Spies
Page 53
"Or," Nervo went on, "they can turn left at San Rafael and then about twenty kilometers down 146 get on the secondary roads to Mendoza. They're not paved and some of them are in bad shape, but it's only two-thirds--maybe half as far--going that way.
"We don't know which route Schmidt will take. So you won't know where to order the Husares to set up their roadblock. And you can't split the Husares and put half on one route and half on the other. How big is Frade's--el Coronel Frade's--Immediate Reaction Force? A troop? What's that, maybe fifty guys on horses?"
"About sixty-two, I think," Lauffer said.
"Okay. You split that many in half, you have thirty-one guys on horseback, armed with nothing heavier than Thompson submachine guns and Mauser carbines. On Schmidt's trucks are two hundred, give or take, men armed with everything up to .30- and .50-caliber machine guns, mortars, and God only knows what else.
"The Husares won't stand a chance against the Mountain Troops. All they'll be is a footnote in the history books: 'The first battle in the Argentine Civil War of 1943-53 was between the 10th Mountain Regiment and the Husares de Pueyrredon, who were wiped out near General Alvear.' "
He paused, then asked, "You want me to go on, Senor Presidente?"
"Please do so, Inspector General."
" 'When word reached Buenos Aires that the 10th Mountain Regiment troops--who were now calling themselves the National Socialist 10th Mountain Regiment--had executed Don Cletus Frade, prominent estanciero and son of the former commander of the Husares de Pueyrredon, for treason, troops of the 3rd Cavalry Regiment rushed from Campo de Mayo to the Casa Rosada to protect el Presidente Rawson, who was known to be a close friend of Don Cletus. They were met by the 2nd Regiment of Grenadiers--now the National Socialist Grenadiers--who wanted to execute Rawson. A battle ensued in the vicinity of the Retiro Railway Station.' "
He paused, met Rawson's eyes, and went on: "It won't matter who wins that battle, Senor Presidente. The civil war will have begun."
There was silence for a full sixty seconds.
Finally, Rawson said, "If you have any suggestions as to how your scenario might be averted, Inspector General, I'd like to hear them."
Nervo nodded. "You prepare three orders, Senor Presidente. The first one orders Schmidt to immediately return to San Martin de los Andes. El Coronel Wattersly and I personally hand this order to el Coronel Schmidt--"
"How are you going to do that? You're here, and he's . . . where exactly?"
"El Coronel Martin has ordered SAA to hold an SAA Lodestar for us, Senor Presidente. We would fly to Mendoza, find out where Schmidt is, and drive there."
Rawson nodded. "And if Colonel Schmidt chooses to ignore the order?"
"Then we hand him the second order, which relieves him of command of the 10th Mountain and orders him to consider himself under arrest pending court-martial for disobedience of a lawful order. The same order appoints Edmundo to assume command of the 10th Mountain, which he then orders to return to San Martin de los Andes."
"And if Schmidt refuses to acknowledge the second order?" Rawson asked.
"Then I will kill him," Nervo said.
"Whereupon el Coronel Schmidt's loyal--loyal to him--officers will kill you. Kill you and Wattersly. Have you considered that?"
"That possibility has run through my mind," Nervo said.
"You said three orders," Rawson said.
"The third order is to el Coronel Peron. It is for him to report to you immediately in person here in Buenos Aires."
"Two questions there, Inspector General," the president replied. "First, how would you get this order to Coronel Peron? And what makes you think he would obey it?"
"My deputy, Subinspector General Nolasco, will be on the Lodestar, Senor Presidente. After it drops Edmundo and me off in Mendoza, it will take him to San Martin de los Andes, where Peron will already be under surveillance. He will give the order to Peron and then offer to fly him to Buenos Aires in the Lodestar, which will leave for Buenos Aires just as soon as Nolasco concludes the business--unspecified--he has in San Martin. If Peron gives him any trouble, or makes any effort to contact Schmidt, he will be arrested."
"And then what?"
"That's as far as I got, Senor Presidente," Nervo said.
"Anyone else have anything to say?" Rawson asked.
"Senor Presidente . . . ," Wattersly began.
"Hold it a second, Edmundo. Let's follow the practice of asking the junior officers first. Bobby? What have you got to say?"
"Mi general, I'm your aide-de-camp, a capitan . . ."
"Who is in this mess up to his nostrils. Tell me what you think of the inspector general's proposal."
"The only thing I was thinking, sir, was two things. The first was that if we had the Piper Cubs you say the Husares de Pueyrredon has sent to Mendoza, they would be useful to find el Coronel Schmidt."
"Good idea!" Rawson said. "And?"
"If the president would give me permission to accompany Inspector General Nervo and el Coronel Wattersly when they go to meet el Coronel Schmidt, I think it would lend weight to their position. If I was there, your aide-de-camp, el Coronel Schmidt . . ."
"If I sent you with these two, Bobby, what would happen would be that all three of you would be shot to death," Rawson said. He turned to Martin. "Okay, Martin, what have you got to say?"
For fifteen seconds Martin almost visibly formed his reply.
"I was thinking--I realize this might be construed the wrong way; that I'm trying not to go out there--I would be of more use staying here in Buenos Aires with you, Senor Presidente. If things go bad when Edmundo and Santiago meet Schmidt, or with el Coronel Peron when Subinspector General Nolasco goes to San Martin to deal with him, I think it would be useful for you, sir, to have at your side at least one man whose loyalty to you is known."
"In other words, you would prefer to be shot against a wall here with me than on some country road with Edmundo and the inspector general. Is that what you're saying?"
Nervo laughed. Rawson gave him a dirty look.
"Well, you'll be with me, Martin, but in Mendoza, not here," Rawson said. "Now, here's what's going to happen: just about everything Nervo proposed, with one major exception. Edmundo is going to stay here at the Edificio Libertador, and I'm going to meet with Schmidt wherever the Husares de Pueyrredon's Piper Cubs find him.
"I am going from here to the Edificio Libertador, where I am going to get on the military telephone to el Coronel Pereitra of the Husares de Pueyrredon. I am going to order him to move--immediately, in secrecy--his regiment to Mendoza, in three stages. First the observation aircraft, second the Immediate Reaction Force, and then the balance of the regiment.
"I am then going to dictate and have typed the orders Inspector General Nervo suggested that I issue. Then I am going to Aeropuerto Jorge Frade and get on the airplane Martin ordered them to hold for him and fly to Mendoza."
"Senor Presidente, everyone will know you've left Buenos Aires," Martin protested.
"Possible, even probably," Rawson agreed. "But so what? Bobby, let's go. The car should be at the door by now."
[FOUR]
Aeropuerto Coronel Jorge G. Frade
Moron, Buenos Aires Province, Argentina
1120 16 October 1943
When the president of the Argentine Republic stepped out of the official presidential limousine in front of the passenger terminal, a familiar face was there to greet him.
"Well, Father Kurt," El Presidente said. "What an unexpected pleasure! Whatever are you doing here?"
"I would think I'm here for the same reason you are, Arturo."
"And what would that be?"
"To try to keep some smoldering embers in Mendoza from turning into a conflagration."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, of course."
"Lying to a priest--especially to the priest who is your confessor--is a sin, Arturo. I've told you that before."
Rawson didn't reply.
"I think
I might be of some help, Arturo."
Rawson gestured toward the Lodestar sitting on the tarmac.
"Why don't we take a little ride, Father? And, on the way, perhaps you'll be good enough to tell me how you found out about this."
"I'd love to, Arturo, really I would. But that would violate a priestly confidence, and that, too, would be a sin. I'm sure you understand."
[FIVE]
Casa Montagna
Estancia Don Guillermo
Km 40.4, Provincial Route 60
Mendoza Province, Argentina
1210 16 October 1943
Don Cletus Frade opened his eyes and saw Mother Superior's face very close to his.
"Try not to move," she said. "This will sting a little."
He tried to raise his head.
"Hold him," Mother Superior ordered.
A massive hand pushed his head back against the floor.
He saw Mother Superior's hands approaching his head. One hand held a pad of surgical gauze, the other a curved needle laced with a black thread.
He felt his forehead being mopped, then saw the needle getting close.
"Jesus H. Christ!" he exclaimed as the needle penetrated the skin on his fo rehead.
"Is he all right?" Dona Dorotea asked.
"I told you bringing him in here would be a mistake," Mother Superior replied.
The needle penetrated his skin again.
"What the hell happened?" Clete asked.
Dorotea groaned in pain and took the Lord's name in vain.
Clete tried to rise. The massive hand again pushed him back against the floor.
That has to be the hand of Sister Suboficial Mayor.
What the hell is going on?
The needle struck again.
"That should hold it for the time being," Mother Superior said. "Stay there until I say you can get up." She added, "Don't let him move."
"Yes, Mother Superior," Sister Suboficial Mayor said.
"Oh, God!" Dorotea groaned loudly.
"Push," Mother Superior said. "I can see the head."
Clete tried and failed to raise his head.
"Dorotea? Are you all right, baby?"
"No, goddamn it, I'm not. . . . Oh, God!"
"Stop blaspheming and push, Dorotea," Mother Superior said.
"Well, that's a shame," Mother Superior said.
"What's a shame?" Clete asked in horror from the floor.
"I was sort of hoping for a future postulant for the Order of the Little Sisters of Santa Maria del Pilar. But what we have here is what looks like a healthy male."
"May I let him up, Mother Superior?" Sister Suboficial Mayor asked.
"Give me a minute to clean up the baby," Mother Superior said.
[SIX]
Casa Montagna
Estancia Don Guillermo
Km 40.4, Provincial Route 60
Mendoza Province, Argentina
1240 16 October 1943
Subinspector Estanislao Nowicki found Don Cletus Frade and Enrico Rodriguez in the bar. Frade was holding a brandy snifter in his hand. There was a bandage on his head, and his shirt was bloody. Nowicki looked at Enrico for an explanation and Enrico shook his head: Don't ask.
Frade looked at Nowicki.
"Go ahead, ask," Clete said.
"What happened?"
"Ten minutes ago, my wife was delivered of a healthy baby boy."
"That's wonderful, Don Cletus!"
"I was at the time on the floor. Estanislao, never be present when your wife is having a baby."
"You passed out," Nowicki said. "That happened to me."
"I can't tell you how happy I am to hear that," Clete said. "Maybe that will wipe the smirk off Enrico's face. Enrico doesn't have any children."
"Having a baby, Enrico," Nowicki said, "is something a woman should do alone. Or at least with other women. Or with a doctor. But not with her husband anywhere around. When my wife had her first child, she swore at me with words I didn't even know she knew."
"So what's up, Estanislao?" Clete asked.
"You heard that that Nazi bastard Schmidt and ten 10th Mountain Regiment trucks are moving toward General Alvear?"
Frade nodded. "Segundo Comandante Garcia told me."
"Garcia just told me there's been a message from General Nervo. An important person will arrive at El Plumerillo around two-thirty or three and suggests you be there."
"He say what important person?" Clete asked.
Nowicki shrugged.
"Maybe the general. And/or somebody else."
Clete looked at his watch.
"Well, I guess I better go change my shirt. Never meet an important person at an airport in a bloody shirt. Enrico, I can really change my shirt without help. Go get the Lincoln."
The Lincoln, two Gendarmeria Nacional Fords, and a truck were lined up in front of the house when Clete came out ten minutes later. Enrico was standing beside the Lincoln, holding the door open for Clete.
"With your permission, Don Cletus, I will not go. I want to have a look around the perimeter. You will not be alone." He gestured at the gendarmes. "And you will have more room in case there is more than one important person at the airport."
"Try not to fall down the mountain, Enrico," Clete said, and got behind the wheel.
[SEVEN]
Edelweiss Hotel
San Martin 202
San Carlos de Bariloche
1505 16 October 1943
"It is a great honor to have you in our hotel, Coronel Peron," the manager said, "and a pleasure to see you back so soon, Senor Schenck."
"I'm here privately," Peron said.
"We're thinking very seriously of buying a small estancia here," Evita said.
"Now, as I'm sure you can understand, we don't want that getting out," Peron said.
"I understand completely. You may trust my discretion and that of everybody in the Edelweiss."
"Thank you."
"How much trouble will it be to get my car from the garage?" Senor Schenck asked.
"I can have it at the door in five minutes," the manager said.
"Oh, good!" Evita said. "I'm so anxious to see this place!"
"I'd like to clean up a little . . . ," Peron said.
"Me too," Evita said happily. "My back teeth are floating, as they say."
Peron looked as if he wanted to choke her.
And she's not talking in that stilted language anymore. I suppose she figures she doesn't have to impress me with her culture now that we're all such good friends.
When Senor and Senora Schenck got to their room, she beat him into the bathroom and he waited impatiently for her to come out.
"Teeth no longer floating?" he asked sarcastically as he brushed past her.
"What does he see in her?" Inge said, ignoring it.
"I don't know, but I'm glad he sees whatever it is. With a little luck, I'll have his signature on that deed this afternoon--because of her."
When he came out of the bathroom, he went directly to the telephone and, consulting a business card, asked the hotel operator to get him a number.
"Senor Suarez, this is Jorge Schenck," von Deitzberg said. "I managed to convince el Coronel Peron to have a look at the property. I have reason to believe he'll like it. I'd like to strike, so to speak, when the iron is hot, by which I mean later today.
"What do you mean it'll take longer than that?"
Senor Suarez took forever to explain the bothersome details of completing such a transaction, the Argentine bureaucracy being what it was.
"Bribe somebody," von Deitzberg snapped. "Now, this is what I want done. I want you to be having a drink in the Edelweiss Hotel bar from five o'clock--make that half past four--until I get there.
"I will express surprise at seeing you, and I will tell you that I have been showing Peron Estancia Puesta de Sol, and one thing will lead to another and you will ultimately say something to the effect that there's no reason the deed can't be transferred right there in the b
ar if that's what he wishes to do."
Senor Suarez asked how sure could Senor Schenck be that Peron would want to do that.
"Trust me, he'll want to do that," von Deitzberg said. "You just be in the bar when we walk in."
[EIGHT]
El Plumerillo Airfield
Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina
1505 16 October 1943
The first person to stand in the open door of SAA's Ciudad de San Miguel was Inspector General Santiago Nervo of the Gendarmeria Nacional. He took a quick look around, which caused the dozen gendarmes from the truck to pop to attention, then got off the airplane.
Next to get off, surprising Clete, was Capitan Roberto Lauffer, and then, surprising Clete even more, the president of the Argentine Republic appeared in the door and got off. He was followed by Subinspector General Nolasco, el Coronel Martin, and the Reverend Kurt Welner, S.J.
What the hell is he doing here?
Finally, two men in the powder blue uniforms of SAA pilots came through the door. One of them was Capitan Gonzalo Delgano. The other--obviously Delgano's copilot--he recognized but could not remember his name.
"Cletus, what did you do to your head?" Rawson asked, even before saying "hello" or embracing him.
"Like President George Washington, Senor Presidente, I cannot tell a lie. I passed out as Dorotea was giving birth to our son, and cracked my head on the floor."
He realized that was the first time he had ever used the term "our son," and the sound of it produced a strong and unexpected reaction: His eyes watered and his throat tightened.
"When did that happen?" Rawson asked. "The baby. Not your head."
"Just after noon, sir," Clete said.
"Well, then, I will be able to say I was among the first to be able to offer my congratulations. How is Dorotea?"
"Very well, sir. Thank you."
"And I will have the happy privilege of baptizing your son," Father Welner said.
First things first, right? Sprinkle my son with water before some heathen Episcopalian can get to him?