In Spanish, he ordered Gómez to put “these swine” into the house-keeper’s room.
“If they look like they’re even trying to get away, shoot them,” Frade ordered, “put them in a hole in the pampas, pour gasoline on them, then set them afire and leave them for the buzzards.”
“I have information—”
“Shut your mouth, you slimy bastard!”
Staff Sergeant Stein met Frade’s eyes but said nothing.
“You ever watch cop movies, Siggie?” Frade asked when Gómez had led the Froggers away.
Stein nodded. “Sometimes.”
“Then you’re familiar with good cop/bad cop?”
Stein nodded.
“I have just been the bad cop,” Frade said. “I don’t know how convincing I was, but that’s what I was trying. I threatened to kill and burn them—”
“I don’t think they have buzzards down here, Major.”
“I don’t know if they do or not. But I don’t think that they know either.”
Stein smiled at him.
“You’re about to become the good cop, Major Stein. The way you do that is to confirm their suspicions that Colonel Frade is an unmitigated sonofabitch who hates Nazis because they killed his father—that’s not far from the truth, incidentally, but I have people like that sonofabitch Cranz in mind, the SS, not a miserable little shit like this guy. Anyway, being the good guy, tell them you may—just may—be able to talk me out of killing them if they have something to offer . . .”
“Like what?”
“He says he never heard of Operation Phoenix, and I don’t know if he’s lying or not. But work on that. Start—unless he starts on Operation Phoenix, or the ransoming operation, which I think is unlikely—by getting him to give us the manning chart of the embassy. We can have von Wachtstein check that, see if he’s lying.”
“Major, I’ve never done anything like this in my life.”
“Welcome to the club, Sergeant Stein. Neither have I.”
Stein shrugged.
“When will you be back?”
“In a couple of days. I want to talk to Leibermann. It’s going to be tough. Martín showed up as I was about to take off from Campo de Mayo. He suspects we’re involved in this. BIS agents are going to be all over everybody.”
Stein nodded, then shrugged, but didn’t reply directly.
“You better get going, Major. You’re about to lose daylight.”
Frade thought aloud: “Jesus, I wish I could get von Wachtstein out here. He’d know how to deal with them.”
“But then they would know he’s Galahad.”
“What makes you think he hasn’t already figured that out?”
“Or her,” Stein said. “Can you get him out here?”
“I don’t know. I’ll work on it. But in the meantime . . .”
“Yes, sir.”
[SEVEN]
Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo Near Pila Buenos Aires Province, Argentina 1905 14 July 1943
When Clete dropped the nose of the Piper Cub on his final approach to the landing strip, he saw that the Horch and Dorotea’s Buick were parked side by side at the end of the runway. A dozen other vehicles were parked on either side of the strip, positioned so their headlights would illuminate the strip.
The “emergency lighting system” wasn’t needed yet, but in another fifteen minutes it would have been.
Dorotea set that up.
Jesus Christ, what a great woman!
And then he saw her, standing up in the front seat of the Horch, waving a welcome to him.
You sonofabitch, how did you wind up with a woman like that?
Because God takes care of fools and drunks, and you qualify on both counts?
The Horch and the Buick came up as he and Enrico were tying down the Piper Cub. Chief Schultz was driving the Buick.
“We was about to send out a search party,” he said, then added, “And we just got word that Delgano just came onto the estancia.”
“Then you better get the hell out of here,” Frade said.
Schultz nodded but held out a piece of paper.
“You better read this and see if you want to answer right away,” he said, handing him a message typed on an all-caps typewriter that had once been in the communications room of the USS Alfred Thomas, DD-107. “It took me forever to decrypt the goddamn thing, but I was glad I did.”
Clete didn’t know what that meant. Schultz offered no explanation beyond a smile.
URGENT
TOP SECRET LINDBERGH
DUPLICATION FORBIDDEN
FROM AGGIE
TO TEX
ARRANGE TRANSFER SOONEST OF TWO MILLION DOLLARS ($2,000,000.00) ACCOUNT LOCKHEED AIRCRAFT COMPANY FIRST NATIONAL BANK OF BURBANK, BURBANK CALIFORNIA, AS INITIAL PAYMENT FOR FOURTEEN (14) LOCKHEED MODEL 18B AIRCRAFT AND APPROPRIATE SPARES.
FIRST TWO (2) AIRCRAFT WILL DEPART US FOR BIRDCAGE WITHIN 48 HOURS.
ETA BIRDCAGE DEPARTURE TIME PLUS SEVENTY-TWO (72) HOURS. LOCKHEED AIRCRAFT WILL NOT REPEAT NOT AUTHORIZE RELEASE OF REMAINING TWELVE (12) AIRCRAFT UNTIL AFOREMENTIONED PAYMENT IS RECEIVED.
ESSENTIAL YOU BE PRESENT BIRDCAGE TO RECEIVE AIRCRAFT AS SIX (6) COLLINS MODEL 295 TRANSCEIVERS PLUS APPROPRIATE SPARES WILL BE ABOARD FIRST DEPARTING AIRCRAFT IN CARE OF MR. LEONARD FISCHER OF COLLINS RADIO CORPORATION WHO WILL ASSIST IN SETTING UP SUBJECT RADIOS.
ADDITIONALLY, IN RESPONSE TO REQUEST OF LT SCHULTZ, MR. FISCHER IS BRINGING WITH HIM, TOGETHER WITH APPROPRIATE SPARES, AN ELECTRICAL TYPEWRITER OF THE TYPE LT SCHULTZ OPERATED ABOARD USS ALFRED THOMAS AND WILL ASSIST IN SETTING IT UP.
ADVISE YOUR ETA BIRDCAGE
AGGIE
Frade looked at Schultz and said, “Why are you smiling, Jefe? Because we’re getting six radios? Or because you’re now apparently a goddamned officer and gentleman, Lieutenant?”
“That, too, Major, sir, but the only electrical typewriter on the Alfred Thomas was a SIGABA.”
“And you’re going to tell me what a Sigaba, whatever, is, right?”
“Last word in encryption/decryption machines. Not only is the encrypted stuff absolutely unbreakable, but it’s as fast as a horny sailor heading for a . . . uh . . . Sorry, Doña Dorotea.”
“Heading for a Christian Science Reading Room, right?” Dorotea said.
“I was thinking of an ice-cream parlor,” Schultz said.
“Who’s this guy they’re sending with it?” Frade asked.
“I’d bet he’s either a sergeant or a smart young lieutenant from the ASA. The SIGABA needs an expert to set it up and fix it.” He paused. “And also to guard it while it’s being moved. That’s a piece of really secret machinery.”
“What’s the ASA?”
“Army Security Agency. They handle this sort of thing for all the services.”
“Message Aggie that I’ll have the Banco de Inglaterra y Argentina wire the money first thing in the morning, and that I’ll be at Birdcage within seventy-two hours.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“And now get out of here, before Delgano sees you.”
“What are you going to do about Delgano while you’re gone?” Dorotea asked. “If they think we have the Nazis, he’ll be all over the place.”
“I’m taking him to Brazil with me,” Clete said. “The minute he shows up here, the managing director of South American Airways is going to tell Chief Pilot Delgano to get us seats on the first Varig flight.”
VIII
[ONE]
Aboard Varig Flight 525 Above Durazno, Uruguay 1505 17 July 1943
“Yes, I would. Thank you very much,” Cletus Frade said in response to the stewardess’s question if he would like another glass of merlot.
“And me, too, if you please,” Gonzalo Delgano said, flashing his most dazzling smile at her.
And then he watched her walk forward in the cabin.
“I forgot about that,” Frade said. “But you really are going to enjoy that, aren’t you, Señor Jefe de Pilotos?”