Griffin W.E.B. - Honor Bound 01 - Honor Bound

Hauptmann Freiherr von Wachtstein bowed and clicked his heels.

"It has been a pleasure to see you again, Teniente," he said. "But now duty calls."

"The pleasure has been mine, mi Capitan," Clete said.

"Watch out for bandits coming out of the sun, Clete," Peter said.

He is crocked. Why else would he say something like that? And why the hell is he shitfaced now? At this hour, and with all the brass around?

"What did you say?" Isabela asked.

"I will try, mi Capitan," Clete said.

"We always say, in the Luftwaffe, that it is the ones you don't see that get you,” Peter said.

"We say much the same thing in the Marine Corps," Clete said. "And that has been my personal experience."

Peter made another curt bow of his head and clicked his heels, and let Alicia lead him to the library. Clete saw Enrico waiting for them there.

[TWO]

Wearing a splendiferous uniform complete with saber, el Coronel Jorge Guillermo Frade appeared then, under the firm control of Se?ora Carzino-Cormano.

"Cletus, what are you doing standing out here?" Claudia demanded. "Your place is with the family."

"Probably counting his blessings," Frade said, and before Claudia could stop him, went on. “I rather hoped you would wear your uniform with your decorations."

"I don't have my uniforms with me," Clete said.

"Pity," he said. "I took the trouble to look it up in the Encyclopedia Britannica. The Corps of Marines dress uniform is splendid."

He's crocked too. Is that the local custom? Is this thing going to be sort of an Argentinean Irish wake?

"Come with us, Cletus," Claudia said, taking his arm and leading them both across the room.

[THREE]

The Basilica of St. Pilar

Recoleta Square

Buenos Aires

1325 19 December 1942

In the ecumenical belief that any religion is better than none, when Martha Howell was for some reason unavailable to drag Clete and the girls to Midland's Trinity Episcopal Church, she permitted Juanita the housekeeper to drag them to the Roman Catholic parish known in Midland as the Mexican Catholic Church. Clete was therefore no stranger to a Roman Catholic mass celebrated by Spanish-speaking clergy.

It was, however, his first high requiem mass; and while he expected the ceremony to run long—the personal participation of the Cardinal Archbishop brought at least five other bishops, an abbot, and a platoon of other magnificently robed clergy to the Basilica—he never imagined it would go on as long as it did.

Everyone was seated European style on hardback chairs. He was seated in the third row from the altar. The other chairs in the first rows were occupied by the other members of the family, and by dignitaries of church and state. For the first forty minutes or so of the mass, he studied their uniforms and regalia with a mild interest, and then he wondered where the Virgin Princess was

sitting.

Both Big Henry and Little Henry Mallin walked in the ranks behind the caisson after they carried Jorge's casket out of the house, but he didn't see Dorotea there or her mother.

The women bring up the rear in this society. I wonder how Claudia Carzino-Cormano puts up with that.

Answer: She gets no gold stars to take home to Mommy for perfect attendance at mass.

There was a mirror behind the choir. Its function, Clete knew from painful experience, was to permit the choir director, the organist, and the priest to observe which of the choirboys was at that moment offending the dignity of the House of God and taking that first step down the slippery path to hell.

From where he was sitting, it reflected the rows of chairs just behind his.

Reflected there, her mother beside her, sat the Virgin Princess, a black lace shawl modestly covering her head.

Just before he came to understand that she was mouthing something to him—meaning she could obviously see his reflection, too—he was enjoying an erotic fantasy in which the Virgin Princess was wearing her loosely woven shawl and nothing else.

She is obviously paying no more attention to the Cardinal Archbishop than I am, and as obviously staring directly at me as I am staring directly at her. So what the hell is she saying with those exaggerated motions of those soft beautiful lips?

“I love you"... ?

Oh, shit, Cletus, you're letting your imagination run wild. She wouldn't do that. You have given her no reason to believe that you consider her anything but a child. It is absolutely absurd to imagine that when she— twice— rubbed her breasts against you, it was anything but innocent. So what else could her lips be saying:

It sure looks like “I love you.”

And Jesus H. Christ, even if it is— and it goddamned sure looks like it— a relationship with that girl is idiotic.

So what do I do?

Obviously, I purposefully misunderstand what she's saying.

Clete just finished giving the Virgin Princess a happy, platonic, absolutely innocent "And how are you, Little Girl?" smile and wave of the hand when everybody around him suddenly stood up.

Preceded by the Cardinal Archbishop, the casket was carried from its place in front of the altar down the aisle and out of the church, trailed by the family members and the dignitaries of church and state.

Then the people in the first chairs followed, which meant that Clete proceeded down the aisle before the Mallin family did. As he passed the Virgin Princess, she smiled at him with those goddamned fall-into-them eyes, then pursed her lips in a kiss.

Oh, shit!

Outside, the German Ambassador expressed the profound sympathy of the German F?hrer und Volk over the tragic price paid by this heroic son of Argentina in the noble war against godless communism.

Behind him, Clete saw Peter, holding a pillow.

What the hell is that? Oh, yeah. The posthumous decoration.

A German colonel stepped to the casket, read the citation, then turned to Peter and took a decoration from the pillow and pinned it to the Argentinean flag that was draped cockeyed across the casket.

He and Peter then rendered the Nazi salute.

Fuck you, Peter.

What the hell is that decoration they just gave Cousin Jorge for what amounts to gross stupidity?

It looks just like the one Peter is wearing. And the one Peter is wearing is a no-bullshit medal— I pulled that out of him during the Christmas Eve armistice. It ranks right up there with the Navy Cross, maybe even the Medal of Honor.

And Cousin Jorge gets it because he got killed flying an artillery spotter he wasn't supposed to be flying in the first place?

Bullshit!

Peter and the German colonel did an about-face and marched back behind the German Ambassador. Six large troopers of the Husares de Pueyrredon picked up the casket, and the procession started off again.

Clete watched them go, exhaled audibly, and said softly, "A Dios, Cousin Jorge. Vaya con Dios." And then turned and walked in the opposite direction.

I don't have to watch the end of this. And I certainly don't want to go back to the house and face Uncle Humberto 's sad eyes again. Or the Virgin Princess. . . . Did she really just tell me she loves me?

I will find the Buick and drive back to the house.

And write a message that will be the sort of thing the skipper of a U.S. Navy destroyer might accept as genuine and that will convince Colonel Graham that letting me have a TBF is the only way I can take out theReine de la Mer.

[FOUR]

4730 Avenida Libertador

Buenos Aires

1420 19 December 1942

Clete entered the house via the kitchen, after parking the car in the basement garage.

He was a little surprised that Se?ora Pellano did not show up in the basement to silently chide him for opening the garage door himself, until he remembered that she was at the Big House. He was surprised again that none of the maids appeared in the kitchen while he prepared a wine cooler with two trays of ice from the refrigerator, then stuffed it with bottles of beer.