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

"Thank you very much, Mr. Ambassador," Peter said.

“Read it here, von Wachtstein," the Ambassador ordered softly.

Peter looked at him in surprise.

"That came to me by hand," von Lutzenberger said. "Not in the pouch. I suspect it should not leave this room."

Peter broke the wax seal and opened the envelope.

Schloss Wachtstein

Pommern

Hansel—

I have just learned that you have reached Argentina safely, and thus it is time for this letter.

The most serious violation of the code of honor by which I, and you, and your brothers and so many of the von Wachtsteins before us have tried to live is of course regicide. I want you to know that before I concluded that honor itself demands that I contribute to such a course of action, I considered all of the ramifications, both spiritual and practical; I am at peace with my decision.

A soldier's duty is first to his God, and then to his honor, and then to his country. The Allies in recent weeks have accused the German state of committing atrocities on such a scale as to defy description. I must tell you that information has come to me that has convinced me that the accusations are not only based on fact, but are actually worse than alleged.

The officer corps has failed its duty to Germany, not so much on the field of battle, but in pandering to the Austrian Corporal and his cohorts. In exchange for privilege and “honors” the officer corps, myself included, has closed its eyes to obscene violations of the Rules of Land Warfare, the Code of Honor, and indeed most of God's Ten Commandments. I accept my share of the responsibility for this shameful behavior.

We both know the war is lost. When it is finally over, the Allies will demand a terrible retribution from Germany.

I see it as my duty as a soldier and a German to take whatever action is necessary to hasten the end of the war by the only means now available, eliminating the present head of the government. The soldiers who will die now, in battle, or in Russian prisoner of war camps, will be as much victims of the officer corps' failure to act as the people the Nazis are slaughtering in concentration camps .

I put it to you. Hansel, that your allegiance should be no longer to the Luftwaffe, or the German State, but to Germany, and to the family, and to the people who have lived on our lands for so long.

In this connection, your first duty is to survive the war. Under no circumstances are you to return to Germany for any purpose until the war is over. If you are ordered to return, find now some place where you can hide safely.

Your second duty is to transfer the family funds from Switzerland to Argentina as quickly as possible. You have by now made contact with our friend in Argentina, and he will probably be able to be of help. In any event, make sure the funds are in some safe place. It would be better if they could be wisely invested, but the primary concern is to keep them safe from the Sicherheitsdienst until the war is over.

In the chaos that will occur in Germany after the war, the only hope our people will have, to keep them in their homes, indeed to keep them from starvation, and the only hope there will be for the future of the von Wachtstein family, and the estates, will be the money that I have placed in your care.

I hope, one day, to be able to go with you again to the village for a beer and a sausage. If that is not to be, I have confidence that God in his mercy will allow us to be all together again, your mother and your brothers, and you and I, in a better place.

I have taken great pride in you, Hansel.

Poppa

Major Freiherr Hans-Peter von Wachtstein turned away from the desk of the Ambassador of the German Reich to the Republic of Argentina and cleared his throat; and then, because it was necessary, he took his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes and cheeks.

"Excuse me, Mr. Ambassador."

"May I see the letter, please?"

"It is a personal letter, Mr. Ambassador."

"You either trust me or you don't, Freiherr von Wachtstein."

Peter met his eyes for a moment, then handed the letter over. The Ambassador read it.

“Your father is eloquent, as well as a brave and honorable man, von Wachtstein," the Ambassador said, and then added, "Hold it over the wastebasket and burn it."

Peter met his eyes again.

"No, Sir," he said. "I don't wish to burn it."

"If Oberst Gr?ner finds that letter ..."

"He will not find it, Mr. Ambassador."

The Ambassador considered that for a moment, and nodded.

"As to the other matter," he said. "Transferring the funds here from Switzerland is a simple matter of sending a cable. Keeping their presence here unknown, and investing them wisely, is quite another problem."

"I understand."

"How much help do you think your friend Frade will be?" von Lutzenberger asked. "His uncle is General Manager of the Anglo-Argentine Bank."

"I don't think I follow you, Mr. Ambassador."

"You are beginning to frighten me, von Wachtstein, and to annoy me," von Lutzenberger said coldly. "Please don't waste my time by telling me you didn't warn Frade about Gr?ner's idiotic plan to eliminate him. Frade owes you his life. My question is how helpful you think he will be. If that young Duarte fool hadn't gotten himself killed at Stalingrad, the Anglo-Argentine Bank would have been a helpful connection."

"I hadn't thought about..."

"Start thinking, von Wachtstein. Otherwise we'll both be dead."

[FOUR]

Room 305

Dr. Cosme Argerich Military Hospital

Calle Luis Maria Campos

Buenos Aires

0905 22 December 1942

Clete was lying on the bed, reading La Nation and sipping at a cup of coffee, when he heard the locked door being opened. Enrico, whom he thought was sound asleep, was instantly awake, with the Remington in his hands.

El Teniente Coronel Bernardo Martin stepped into the room, carrying a small suitcase. After a moment, Clete recognized it; it was his. Martin looked at Enrico and his ready shotgun with approval.

"Buenos dias, Suboficial Mayor," Martin said dryly, then switched to English. "How are you this morning, Mr. Frade?"

"I'm fine, thank you. A little bored."

"Well, the doctors tell me that you can leave the hospital," Martin said.

What doctors? I haven't seen a doctor since the one who hacked away at me when I got here.

"So I have taken the liberty of bringing you some of your things from the Guest House."

He laid the suitcase on the bed.

"Thank you," Clete said. "You mean, I'm free to go?"

Martin ignored the question. "I hope that you will report to theman from your embassy that you have been well-treated here."

"What man from the embassy?"

"Yourembassy seems extraordinarily concerned with your welfare," Martin said. "As soon as the story of your encounter with the burglars appeared in the Herald, they started making quite a nuisance of themselves, first at the Polic?a Federal, and lately at the Foreign Ministry."

"Is that so?"

"There's a Consular Officer, a man named Spiers, waiting downstairs to see you now. He was told you're being given a final physical examination, which should be over about half past nine. Will that give you time for a shower and a shave? Or shall I have him told you'll be a little longer?"

"You didn't answer my question. Am I free to go?"

"Certainly, now that we are sure you are in the best of health, and the Polic?a Federal have concluded their investigation of the unfortunate incident on Avenida Libertador." "Thank you."

"Thank you for your cooperation," Martin said. "You might be interested to know that the criminals have been identified. Both of them have long criminal records, including a history of armed robbery. The Polic?a Federal will not miss them."