Blood and Honor

by W. E. B Griffin

  And probably wouldn’t have understood me anyhow.

  ‘‘I came up with a way, Colonel,’’ Tony said, not at all reluctant to show off his expertise, ‘‘to blow the bastard’s brains out his ear. I even tested it on a cow’s head Enrico got me from the slaughterhouse. All you need is a piece of plastic explosive about as big as the first joint on your thumb. You put it in the earpiece of a telephone. I can rig it to blow five seconds, whatever, after you pick the phone up, or on command, sending house current down the existing telephone wire pair. Two-twenty-volt current fucks up the whole phone system, but who cares?’’

  ‘‘This testing you did, Lieutenant Pelosi,’’ Graham asked, and now there was ice in his voice, ‘‘was that before or after Major Frade told you you were not to try to kill Standartenführer Goltz?’’

  Tony now sensed he was in trouble.

  ‘‘I thought maybe I could talk Cl—Major Frade into changing his mind, Sir,’’ he said.

  ‘‘Let me tell you something, Lieutenant Pelosi,’’ Graham said, and paused, framing what he was about to say. ‘‘First, Sergeant Ettinger is dead because he disobeyed Major Frade’s order to stay on the estancia. Get that clear in your head. Second, you are an officer in the United States Army, not a thug working for Al Capone in Chicago. Standartenf ührer Goltz is not an Italian gangster who may be killed according to the Mafia Code of Honor as it applies to revenge. Are you with me so far?’’

  ‘‘Yes, Sir,’’ Tony said, coming to attention. He was now on the carpet and knew it.

  ‘‘Good!’’ Graham went on. ‘‘Third, the OSS is a military organization. On occasion it may be necessary for us to eliminate people, but we only do so when there is an unmistakable military necessity to do so—and revenge never meets that criterion. In this situation, the elimination of Standartenführer Goltz would be counterproductive.’’

  ‘‘What did he say, Señor Clete?’’ Enrico asked.

  ‘‘He says Tony cannot blow Goltz’s brains out his ears,’’ Clete said.

  There was something in Major Frade’s flippant sarcasm— which was enough to cause Captain Maxwell Ashton to chuckle—that caused Colonel Graham to turn his wrath to Major Frade.

  ‘‘This applies to you, too, Frade,’’ he said angrily. ‘‘I find it difficult to believe that you are unaware of the importance of Operation Lindbergh to the degree that you would even think, much less seriously suggest, that we assassinate the man who is the key to it, Standartenführer Goltz.’’

  Enrico glared at Graham.

  ‘‘What did he say?’’

  Clete’s mouth ran away with him.

  ‘‘He says I can’t shoot Goltz between the eyes, either,’’ Clete replied.

  Captain Ashton chuckled again, which was enough to ignite the Latin temper of Alejandro Fredrico Graham, Colonel, USMCR.

  ‘‘I’ve had about all I intend to take from you, Frade!’’ Graham flared, turned to Ashton, pointed his finger at him, and nearly shouted, ‘‘This is not funny, goddamn it, Ashton! ’’

  ‘‘Sorry, Sir,’’ Ashton said, but he did not seem genuinely contrite.

  Commander Delojo looked pleased, having decided that Major Frade was about to receive his long-overdue comeuppance.

  But when Graham turned back to Clete, he had regained control of his temper.

  ‘‘I should not have to spell this out for you, Clete, but I will,’’ he said reasonably. ‘‘The elimination of Goltz would cause the people he works for to ask themselves who did that and why. They would quite logically conclude that it was probably you. Since they are aware that you are OSS, they probably would wonder how much you—and the OSS—have learned about what we are calling Operation Lindbergh. They would therefore take greater pains in the future to ensure the secrecy and security of Operation Lindbergh, which, of course, they will continue to operate. Are you with me so far?’’

  ‘‘Yes, Sir.’’

  ‘‘The way things are now, we know—and the Germans do not know, or at least aren’t sure that we know—about the operation, and that Goltz is running it, with the assistance of whatsisname—what’s Bagman’s name?’’

  ‘‘Von Tresmarck, Sir,’’ Clete said.

  ‘‘. . . of von Tresmarck in Montevideo,’’ Graham went on. ‘‘Between you here, and Stevenson in Montevideo, plus Milt and Milt’s people here, and the FBI in Montevideo, we can keep an eye on Lindbergh and von Tresmarck until the decision is made what to do about it.’’

  ‘‘I don’t understand that, Colonel,’’ Clete said. ‘‘What decision?’’

  ‘‘That’ll come from the President,’’ Graham said. ‘‘Who so far hasn’t been told about it. We’re dealing with the lives of thousands of Jews in the concentration camps as well as the sanctuaries the Germans are trying to set up here and, maybe, in Uruguay, Paraguay, Chile, and who knows where else. Deciding what to do about it is a decision I’m glad I don’t have to make.’’

  ‘‘Why hasn’t the President been told?’’ Clete wondered aloud.

  ‘‘Because Director Donovan doesn’t wish to go to the President without more facts. Including the identity of Galahad, how come Galahad has knowledge of Lindbergh, and his motivations for telling us. I was sent down here specifically to obtain that information, Clete. That’s how important Donovan thinks it is.’’

  ‘‘Milton, you didn’t know about this before?’’ Clete asked.

  ‘‘I heard whispers,’’ Leibermann said. ‘‘I asked around. The Jews know I’m from the Embassy, and almost certainly who I work for. A wall is up. And I’m the only Jew in the FBI down here, and the Jews here are not about to tell some norteamericano Irisher or Mormon about something like this.’’

  ‘‘You heard what I said, Clete, about the primary reason I’m down here?’’ Graham asked.

  ‘‘I’m sorry, I can’t tell you any more about Galahad than I already have.’’

  ‘‘We have to talk about that,’’ Graham said without ran-cor, which almost visibly disappointed Commander Delojo.

  Clete shrugged.

  ‘‘Or, for that matter, Cavalry, either,’’ he said.

  ‘‘We’ll have to talk about him, too,’’ Graham said. ‘‘But right now, we have to radio Oracle and report what we know about the new government. Where the hell were you, Clete, when the revolution was going on? I think you’d better start with telling me about the arrangements you made to get that airplane into the country so easily.’’

  ‘‘It wasn’t easy,’’ Clete said. ‘‘It was supposed to be a C-45, not a Lockheed Lodestar.’’

  ‘‘I heard about that.’’ Graham chuckled. ‘‘What I was talking about, though, is how did you arrange for the Argentine Army to allow you to land it at Santo Tomé? Your friend Cavalry have anything to do with that?’’

  ‘‘OK. Yeah.’’

  ‘‘And where did you go with it when you left here?’’

  ‘‘The deal I made was that in exchange for getting the airplane into Argentina, I would make it available to the Grupo de Oficiales Unidos to take them out of the country in case OUTLINE BLUE went bad. So I took the airplane from here to Campo de Mayo.’’

  ‘‘Obviously, they didn’t need it. Which is fortunate. The Ambassador would have had a hard time explaining to President Castillo why an American OSS agent flew a planeload of traitors out of the country. Presumably you thought about that?’’

  ‘‘No, they didn’t need the airplane, and no, I didn’t think about what would happen if they had to. I had to have the airplane to deal with the Océano Pacífico; and getting Ashton and his radar into the country seemed important.’’

  ‘‘You don’t think you should have asked for guidance, for authorization, before making a decision like that?’’ Commander Delojo asked.

  ‘‘Who was I supposed to ask?’’ Clete flared. ‘‘You?’’

  ‘‘Take it easy, Clete,’’ Graham said warningly, and then went on, ‘‘What did they do, just keep you waiting out there, away from a tele
phone, until they were sure they wouldn’t need the plane? And where is it now, by the way?’’

  ‘‘Not exactly,’’ Clete said.

  ‘‘Not exactly what?’’

  ‘‘I’m not sure that you want to know,’’ Clete said.

  ‘‘Oh, but I do!’’

  ‘‘They had a little problem communicating with the columns that were moving from Campo de Mayo to the Casa Rosada. So I helped them with it.’’

  ‘‘Don’t be evasive.’’

  ‘‘I flew a Piper Cub for them.’’

  ‘‘You participated in the coup d’état?’’ Delojo asked incredulously. ‘‘Took an active role in it?’’

  Graham ignored him.

  ‘‘Where did you fly the Piper Cub?’’ he asked.

  ‘‘I flew General Rawson around,’’ Clete said. ‘‘One of the columns was stalled at the School of Naval Engineering. So we landed there, and he told them to bypass it. And then we flew to the other column, which had stopped because the first column was stalled, and dropped a message to them telling them to start moving. And then we flew over the Casa Rosada and watched both columns converge on it.’’

  ‘‘General Rawson was with you?’’ Graham asked.

  ‘‘Yes, he was,’’ Clete said, and then added, ‘‘They offered me a commission. I turned it down.’’

  ‘‘You would have lost your citizenship. You would have . . . ,’’ Delojo fumed.

  ‘‘I thought about that,’’ Clete said. ‘‘Which is why I didn’t take the commission.’’

  ‘‘Where’s the airplane now?’’ Graham asked.

  There was a knock at the door. Clete thought that it was very likely Dorotéa, wondering what was holding him up.

  It was a maid.

  ‘‘Señor Frade,’’ she announced. ‘‘Señorita Carzino-Cormano is here and asks to see you.’’

  ‘‘Enrico, see what that’s all about, will you?’’ Clete said, and then replied to Graham. ‘‘I wasn’t turned loose until after dark. I didn’t want to try to land the Lockheed here at night. So I asked them to take me into town, picked up the car, and came out here.’’

  ‘‘Stopping only long enough, correct, to pick up your fiancée?’’ Commander Delojo asked sarcastically.

  ‘‘Why didn’t you stay in Buenos Aires?’’ Graham asked quickly, in time to shut off Clete’s reply to Delojo. ‘‘So that you could deal with the plane in the morning?’’

  Clete hesitated, obviously considering the wisdom of saying something rude to Delojo, and then replied, his voice showing that his temper was simmering close to the surface:

  ‘‘The reason I came out here was to see if anybody here knew any more about what happened to Dave Ettinger than I did. And I thought Ashton might need me for something. And I even thought about messaging you, back in the States, to tell you that OUTLINE BLUE worked. I’ll fly over there in one of the Cubs in the morning and pick up the plane.’’

  Enrico put his head in the door—surprising Clete, for he had been gone only a moment.

  ‘‘Señor Clete?’’ he said, and motioned for him to leave the room.

  Clete walked through the door and closed it after him.

  ‘‘If you don’t mind my saying so, Colonel, I don’t like his attitude,’’ Commander Delojo said.

  ‘‘I don’t mind you saying so, Commander—frankly, I’m not thrilled with it myself—but when he comes back in here, you’re directed not to open your mouth until I tell you to,’’ Graham said.

  ‘‘If your purpose in sending Frade down here, Alejandro, ’’ Leibermann said, ‘‘was to see if he could get close to the new government, that has certainly succeeded.’’

  Graham nodded.

  ‘‘If he hadn’t flown us here on that plane,’’ Ashton said, ‘‘my team and I and the radar would still be in Pôrto Alegre. ’’

  ‘‘Sir,’’ Tony Pelosi said, ‘‘I want to make it clear that when I told Major Frade I wanted to rig Goltz’s telephone, he told me right away to forget it.’’

  ‘‘Apparently the Cletus H. Frade Fan Club is holding its annual convention?’’ Graham said, but there was a smile on his lips. He then added, ‘‘God, wait till I tell Donovan that he was flying Rawson around during the revolution.’’

  Clete and Enrico came back in the room three minutes later.

  ‘‘What was that all about?’’ Graham asked.

  ‘‘I have the position where the Océano Pacífico will drop anchor in Samborombón Bay. If she’s not already there.’’

  ‘‘Where did you get that?’’ Graham asked.

  ‘‘And the location of the place where Goltz will land what is probably all that money we’ve heard about from the Océano Pacífico.’’

  ‘‘What’s your source?’’ Graham asked.

  ‘‘The landing will take place tomorrow morning. A boat will leave Magdalena at first light, go out to the Océano Pacífico, take on the cargo, and then head to shore. So it will land however long after daybreak it takes the boat to go out to the Océano Pacífico and back. Figure forty minutes each way, eighty minutes, an hour and twenty minutes, make it an hour and a half, make it any time between an hour and a quarter to two hours after sunrise.’’

  ‘‘I need to know your source, Clete, ’’ Graham said.

  ‘‘This is from the horse’s mouth, Colonel, but that’s all I can tell you and still look myself in the mirror when I shave.’’

  Graham looked as if he was about to reply, then changed his mind.

  ‘‘How long will it take you to fly that airplane here . . . or over this position in Samborombón Bay in the morning? ’’

  ‘‘About an hour from here to Campo de Mayo, figure twenty, thirty minutes on the ground there, and then thirty minutes to fly the Lockheed back here.’’

  ‘‘And over the Océano Pacífico?’’

  ‘‘About the same time.’’

  ‘‘One thing I know for sure is that we have to have our hands on that airplane. So that’s settled. You be ready to take off at first light for Campo de Mayo.’’

  ‘‘Aye, aye, Sir.’’

  ‘‘That’s all, Clete,’’ Graham said. ‘‘Get a good night’s sleep. Set your alarm so you’re up in time to have breakfast and be ready to take off at first light.’’

  Clete nodded.

  Christ, I’ve been dismissed!

  He looked at Graham, who made it official.

  ‘‘That will be all, Major, thank you,’’ Graham said. ‘‘You are dismissed.’’

  Clete’s face reddened, but he kept his mouth shut and walked out of the room. Enrico followed him.

  [THREE]

  Colonel A. F. Graham glanced in turn at all the officers remaining in the room, and finally settled his gaze on First Lieutenant Anthony J. Pelosi.

  ‘‘I think you should take one more trip out to the radio station, Pelosi,’’ he ordered, ‘‘to see if anything new has come in. After that, I don’t think we’ll need you any more tonight. Set your alarm early, too. I want you up when Frade gets up.’’

  ‘‘Yes, Sir.’’

  ‘‘So far as you’re concerned, Commander, I can’t see any reason for you to stay out here, now that we’ve found Frade. Or vice versa. So you can go back to Buenos Aires.’’

  ‘‘Yes, Sir. Sir, I’m willing to stick around—’’

  ‘‘What I want you to do is make sure that I can get in contact with the Ambassador at any time tomorrow,’’ Graham cut him off. ‘‘It’s entirely possible that it will be necessary to do just that.’’

  ‘‘Aye, aye, Sir.’’

  ‘‘Both of you can go,’’ Graham said, and they left the room.

  ‘‘Ashton, presumably your radar can verify the existence of a vessel—not necessarily the Océano Pacífico—at the position we got from Frade?’’

  ‘‘Yes, Sir, if there’s a vessel there, we will have already picked it up.’’

  ‘‘Where’s the camera?’’

  ‘‘At the radar site, Sir.�
��’

  ‘‘OK. You go out there, check to see if a vessel is where Frade says it is—stick around until say oh three hundred if there isn’t one there when you get there—and then come back here with the camera. You can use the camera in the Lockheed?’’

  ‘‘Yes, Sir. I’ll have to take a side window out for the best results.’’

  ‘‘But you can use the camera in the Lockheed?’’

  ‘‘Yes, Sir.’’

  ‘‘Be prepared to do so.’’

  ‘‘Aye, aye, Sir.’’

  ‘‘You’re dismissed, Captain.’’

  ‘‘Aye, aye, Sir.’’

  Graham waited until he had left the room and then turned to Mr. Ralph Stevenson, the Cultural Attaché of the Embassy of the United States of America in Montevideo, Uruguay.

  ‘‘I want to ask you an off-the-record question, Ralph,’’ he said, ‘‘which I promise you I will never remember asking. If I weren’t here, and because of the three team chiefs we have down here, you’re the only one who comes close to being what a team chief should be, you were faced with making the decision, what would you do?’’

  ‘‘Decision about what?’’

  ‘‘Let’s give Frade the benefit of the doubt a moment. Let’s say his source is good. Early tomorrow, the Germans will attempt to smuggle into Argentina a large sum of money—I have trouble with that one-hundred-million-dollar figure, but let’s say a very large sum of money. Five million. Ten million. This money we know has been stolen in some despicable way from Jews in Germany. Not only that, but it will be used to purchase safe houses for—an infrastructure designed to give sanctuary to—any number of characters for whom skinning alive is too good. What do we do about that? Try to prevent them from smuggling it in? Try to grab the money? If we do that, we are probably also going to interfere with Lindbergh. Lindbergh is filthy, but on the other hand, people otherwise doomed to be shot in the head or gassed or starved to death, including, of course, women and children, are getting out of the camps. The third option is to do nothing, let them bring the money into the country and try to keep an eye on what happens to it, in the hope that when the war is over we can make things right.’’