Griffin W.E.B. - Honor Bound 02 - Blood and Honor

To his surprise, Peter found with little difficulty the mouth of the harbor at Magdalena, and then the pier of the fisherman—Lothar Steuben, another good, loyal, expatriate German who was going to charter his boat to Oberst Gr?ner. By then Peter had decided that while Loche and his son could not really be held accountable for what they were doing, Standartenf?hrer Goltz—and by extension, all Nazis—could. And there was no longer any question in his mind whether what he would do next was honorable or not.

The problem then became how.

Steuben, a large sunburned man, was a second-generation Argentinian whose family came from near Hamburg. If anything he was more obsequious than Gustav Loche.

He conducted everyone to his small but comfortable home overlooking the harbor. There his wife had laid out coffee and pastry. After introductions—she was a stout woman with blond hair braided and coiled at her ears and she was holding a child on each hip, which made her look like one of the oil paintings Hitler had commissioned to honor Fertile German Womanhood—she shyly inquired if the Herr Baron happened to like sauerbraten, which is what she had prepared for supper. He told her he did.

Despite his promise to contact Peter by six, there was no word from Gr?ner. And there was none by seven, or by eight. By the time the sauerbraten was eaten, Peter began to wonder whether something had gone wrong.

Maybe the Americans decided the smartest thing to do was sink theOceano Pacifico before she got into Argentine waters? The Spanish would howl in outrage, but what could they actually do about it9Send another division to the Eastern Front? Bomb Washington, D.C. ?

At 8:25, the telephone rang.

"Herr Baron Major," Steuben said, handing the telephone to Peter. "It is Herr Oberst Gr?ner."

Peter took the telephone and said one word: "Yes?"

"I doubt if it would do any good, Peter," Gr?ner said. "But when we get off the line, why don't you see if you can't at least ask him to consider the possibility that sometimes people listen to other people's telephone calls?"

"I'll certainly do that."

"He has a map," Gr?ner said. "Tell him to bring it to you."

"One moment," Peter said, covered the mouthpiece with his hand, and asked Steuben for "the map."

"Apparently what you asked for is being stored under the bed," Peter reported. "But I am promised it will appear momentarily."

"Ach, Gott! How was your ride down there? Get plenty of fresh air? Your mount didn't throw you?"

"Actually it was very pleasant. The horses ran well, and G?nther was only slightly sick to his stomach. He hasn't had much chance to do much riding."

Steuben appeared with a map, a sheet of paper, and a freshly sharpened pencil.

Without explanation, Gr?ner gave a list of letters and numbers, which Peter wrote down. He then compared these with the map, the markings on which had been changed.

"That make sense to you, Peter?" Gr?ner asked.

Obviously, he had been given the position where the Comerciante del Oceano Pacifico had been ordered to drop anchor in Samboromb?n Bay.

"Yes."

"They may not be valid until later than we thought, if you take my meaning, but they should be good by, say, midnight, and certainly by the morning."

"I understand," Peter said.

"There has been a slight change in plans."

"Oh?"

"Frankly, I prevailed in this," Gr?ner said, a smug tone in his voice. "I suggested to our friend that there was merit in the principle that the fewer people who know—or think they know—what's going on, the slighter the chance that it will become public knowledge."

"I agree with that completely," Peter said.

"You will therefore have a companion when you take your ride in the morning. Which I suggest should be at first light."

What the hell is that all about? Oh. Either he or Goltz is going with me.Goltz. Goltz has to go out to the Oceano Pacifico. The captain won't turn over the "special materiel" to anyone else. So now Steuben remains in the dark. Even if the BIS grabs him, they can't get any information from him, because he won't know.

"I think I know who you mean," Peter said. "And therefore, we will need one less horse, am I right?"

"Absolutely. You really are becoming quite good at this game, Peter."

"Thank you very much, I'm trying."

"Somewhere along the path, I'll probably meet up with you and take your companion off your hands."

"I think I understand."

"I'd be more comfortable if I knew you understood."

"The only thing I'm a little fuzzy about is what happens to me after we meet up with you."

"With a little bit of luck, some of the people you will have with you will be able to lead your horse back to the stable, and then you and I can lunch together."

The translation of that is if theOceano Pacifico turns out to be able to take the Coronel Gasparo aboard after we unload the "special materiel" — if they have the right kind of davits for that, and, of course, if she can take the strain of being lifted out of the water— her crew will take her from the beach to the ship and take her aboard. In that case, I can stay on shore and go with Goltz and Gr?ner.

If theOceano Pacifico can't take the Coronel Gasparo aboard, then G?nther and I will have to take her back here.

"What I suggest is that you have your dinner and get some sleep, and be ready to start out there at first light. Our friend will be there as soon as he can."

"Certainly."

"The truck is ready?"

"I have been assured, a half-dozen times, that everything, including the truck, is in readiness."

"Don't fault enthusiasm, Peter. It is to be encouraged. But, of course, at the same time, controlled. Don't let it get out of hand."

"I assure you I won't."

"Well, then I look forward to seeing you, perhaps even to have lunch with you, tomorrow."

"I'm looking forward to it."

The line went dead.

Peter put the handset back into its cradle.

"There has been a change of plans," he announced. "You, Herr Steuben, will, from fivea.m., hold yourself in readiness to comply with any orders Oberst Gr?ner may issue."

"Jawohl, Herr Baron Major!"

"You, Herr Loche, will make sure the truck, ready for operation, is at the prescribed place at the prescribed hour. I suggest you leave shortly to make sure all is in readiness."

"Jawohl, Herr Baron Major!" Gustav Loche replied, taking his cue from Steuben.

Peter picked up the map, motioned for Herr Loche to follow him, and walked across the room to a floor lamp.

"Indicate where your part in this operation is to take place, if you please, Herr Loche."

Loche's face went white and showed acute discomfort.

"Excuse me, Herr Baron Major," he began hesitantly.

"You have forgotten already? You are not sure, is that what you're saying?"

"Herr Baron Major, both Herr Standartenf?hrer Goltz and Herr Oberst Gr?ner made it quite clear to me that the landing site was not—"

"—to be revealed to anyone who did not have a need to know?" Peter interrupted.

"Yes, Herr Baron Major."

"Herr Steuben does not have the need to know," Peter said. "Which is why I brought you over here with me, so that he cannot see where you will point at the map. And your diligence is appreciated, Herr Loche, and I will mention it to Standartenf?hrer Goltz. But did you really think that I was not privy to this information? That the Herr Standartenf?hrer would send me down here not knowing where I am to meet you and the truck? What I am doing here, Loche, is making sure there is no confusion in your mind about where you are to be."

"Excuse me, Herr Baron Major," Loche said. "I was not thinking. You will have to understand that I am . . ."

"Where, Loche?" Peter demanded impatiently.

Loche pointed to a small inlet on the shoreline of Samboromb?n Bay. There were no villages near it, but the coastal highway was no more than half a mile away.