“I’m a Born Again by Total Immersion Abyssinian Baptist,” Lewis said. “Can I do that?”
“I think it will be all right with God, Sergeant,” Welner said.
“Father, to clear the air a little, you can say anything you want to, personal or business, to Sergeant Lewis. Actually, that’s the reason I brought him along with me. He’s as close to Konstantin as anybody. Closer.”
“Konstantin is the NKGB officer?”
“Konstantin Orlovsky. Yes, sir.”
“I’ll be delighted to hear what the sergeant has to say about him. But let me get this out of the way, first.”
“Sir?”
“First, I was very sorry to hear about your loss of your wife.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“It was impossible for me to go to the United States with Cletus and the others. If I could have gone, I would have. I hope you understand.”
“Yes, sir. I do.”
“What I did do, Jim, was celebrate a mass for Marjorie in the Church of Our Lady of Pilar.”
“That’s the church by that cemetery downtown, in Recoleta?”
“Right. In which Cletus’s father and others of his family have their last resting place.”
“That was very kind of you.”
“Not at all. How are you doing?”
“I don’t know how to answer that.”
“I had a thought on the airplane,” the priest said. “Cletus told me how busy you have been here. I wondered if perhaps that’s been a gift from God, a blessing in disguise, so to speak, taking your mind off your loss.”
What took my mind off my loss, Father, was fucking a married woman.
And speaking of God, how the hell am I going to explain that despicable, inexcusable behavior to Saint Peter when I get to those pearly gates?
“That’s an interesting thought, Father.”
“We’ll have more time to talk, I’m sure,” the Jesuit said. “But right now, Sergeant Lewis, why don’t we talk about the Russian?”
[SEVEN]
Father Welner and Staff Sergeant Lewis came into the room. Cronley, Gehlen, and Dunwiddie were sitting at the table.
“Orlovsky has accepted your kind invitation to lunch,” the priest said. “But that’s all I got out of him.”
“Shall I get him, Captain?” Lewis asked.
“Fuck him,” Cronley said.
“That’s not very charitable, Jim,” the priest said.
“I’m fresh out of charity so far as he’s concerned,” Cronley replied.
“What was your impression of him, Father?” Gehlen asked.
“I think that you’re right, General. He is more than he appears to be, more than he wants us to think he is. I wouldn’t be surprised if he is a more senior officer than a major.”
“Can you tell us why?”
“He didn’t say anything specific, if that’s what you’re asking. It’s more his attitude.”
“You mean his casual dismissal of the possibility that we’re going to shoot him in the back of the head?” Cronley asked.
“I don’t think he thinks that’s going to happen,” the priest said, then added, “Is it?”
“If we didn’t really need the names of the people the NKGB has turned, I think I’d do it myself,” Cronley said.
“I don’t think you mean that, Jim. I hope you don’t.”
“I don’t know if I do or not. But no. It’s not on my agenda. Why do you think he doesn’t care about that as a threat?”
“I had the feeling that he thinks his situation is about to change.”
“Change how?”
“That he’ll somehow be freed. Is there any possibility of that?”
“Absolutely none. If the general is right, and I think he is, he’s a colonel or whatever. And you agree with that. And Sergeant Lewis agrees with that. Let’s take it as a given.”
Cronley looked between them, then went on: “What would you do if you were Major/Colonel/General Orlovsky’s superior in the ranks of the NKGB and your hotshot screwed up and found himself in the hands of the Americans who didn’t know he was a hotshot, but inevitably were going to find out?
“You’d try to bust him out, and failing that, to whack him. That’s what you would do. That’s what they are going to try to do. Now that I think of it, I’m surprised they haven’t already tried. And that settles it.”
“Settles what?” Dunwiddie asked.
Gehlen said: “Although they are not supposed to, I’m sure that some of my people have weapons. Especially those who, having turned, have to consider the possibility they may need them. And some of my people are highly skilled in that sort of thing. I’m afraid Jim is right. And I further suggest that if such an attempt will be made, it will take place before the move to the Pullach compound is complete.”
“And that really settles it,” Cronley said. “Konstantin is about to go to the Paris of South America.”
“Involuntarily, you mean?” Gehlen asked thoughtfully.
“I don’t think he’s about to volunteer, do you?” Cronley replied. “Father, who flew the Connie from Buenos Aires?”
“Hansel,” the priest said.
“Who the hell is Hansel?” Tiny asked.
“Former Major Hans-Peter Graf von Wachtstein, recipient of the Knight’s Cross of the Iron Cross from the hands of Hitler himself,” Cronley said. “Who by now is probably at 44–46 Beerenstrasse in Berlin.”
“I’m lost,” Tiny admitted.
“Father, I presume you brought identity documents and a passport for Señor Orlovsky?”
“Yes.”
“Does anything have to be done to them?”
“Just the addition of a photograph and a name.”
“There was a photograph of him on his forged German Kennkarte,” Gehlen said. “And then Bischoff took some photos of him.”
“We’ll have to get Felix Dzerzhinsky’s documents in order as soon as possible,” Cronley said.
Gehlen laughed.
“Can you handle that, General?”
“Of course.”
“That’s what you’re going to call him?” Tiny asked. “Why? It has some meaning?”
“Felix Dzerzhinsky was the founder of the Cheka,” Cronley said.
“He was not a very nice man, Tiny,” Gehlen said. “He said a lot of terrible things, but what most people remember was his hope that the bourgeoisie would drown in rivers of their own blood.”
“An evil and godless man!” Father Welner blurted with, for him, unusual bitterness.
“Orlovsky will probably be flattered,” Cronley said.
“How are you going to get him on the airplane if he doesn’t want to go?” Welner asked.
“Poor Felix, ill and delirious, will be strapped to a stretcher,” Cronley said.
“And if he calls out for help in his delirium?” Tiny asked.
“He will also be wrapped in bandages like a mummy,” Cronley said. “But I’d like to dope him, if I could figure out a way to do that.”
“That can be arranged,” Gehlen said. “I’ll have a word with one of my physicians.”
“You do that, please, General, while I get on the SIGABA,” Cronley said, and then turned to Staff Sergeant Lewis. “I think you’ll enjoy Buenos Aires, Lewis.”
[EIGHT]
PRIORITY
TOP SECRET LINDBERGH
DUPLICATION FORBIDDEN
FROM VATICAN
VIA VINT HILL TANGO NET
1635 GREENWICH 8 NOVEMBER 1945