Griffin W.E.B. - Honor Bound 03 - Secret Honor

"I was dealing with Almond," Clete said. "He was sent down here to find out Galahad's identity."

"Sent by whom?

There was a knock at the door, and Antonio entered without knocking. Dorotea quickly turned away so that he would not see her tears. "I beg pardon, Don Cletus, but el Coronel

Peron is on the line, and says it is very important."

"How did you know I was here?"

"I saw you drive up, Senor."

Clete walked to the telephone and picked it up. "Tio Juan, how are you?"

"I have just learned from friends of mine that a friend of ours, as we speak, is on his way back to Argentina," Peron said. "I thought you would like to know as soon as possible."

"Jesus Christ, that's good news!"

"I can only hope that it will alter the opinion you hold of my friends," Peron said.

"Sure," Clete said.

"I thought perhaps Dorotea might wish to tell Alicia. I have not called Estancia Santo Catalina."

"I'm sure she would. You're very thoughtful, Tio Juan.

And I'm grateful."

"We're family, Cletus. I could do no less."

"Well, I'm truly grateful."

"As soon as I have further details, I'll pass them on."

"Thank you."

"Good night, Cletus," Peron said sonorously, and the line went dead.

"You're truly grateful about what?" Dorotea demanded.

"He came through," Clete said. " 'As we speak,' Peter's on his way to Argentina." "Thank God!"

"You better get on the phone to Alicia. Or maybe drive over there in the morning."

"We'll drive over there tonight. I want to be there when

Claudia finds out."

"I'd rather go in the Buick, if you don't mind."

"It's about out of gas," Clete said, and held open the door of the Horch for her to get in. He was just about to drive out of the garage when Enrico appeared, carrying the Browning shotgun.

Dorotea didn't seem at all surprised to see him, didn't protest, and then waited until they were on the macadam road through the pampas before picking up their original conversation precisely where it had been cut off: "You were telling me Colonel Almond was sent down here to identify

Peter… Galahad. By whom?"

Clete exhaled, and decided this was as good a time as any to get it over with. "I originally suspected the OSS, but he says it was the G-2. That's Army intelligence, and I think he was telling the truth."

"He told you this?"

"At the time, I had a pistol in my hand and had just let off a round two feet away from him."

"You threatened to kill him?" Dorotea asked matter-of factly.

He nodded.

"Did he believe you?"

"I hope so. Otherwise I will have to kill him."

"You should have told me before," she said. "Then I wouldn't have worried myself sick all afternoon and evening."

"I'm sorry about that, baby."

"Enrico, do you think that man, Colonel Almond, believes

Senor Clete will do what he said?" "Si, Dona Dorotea."

"Well, then, it's been a good day all around, hasn't it?"

Dorotea said.

"We still have Claudia to face," Clete said.

"That's right, and for God's sake, darling, let me handle that!"

"Yes, dear."

Dona Claudia Carzino-Cormano received Senor and Senora

Frade in her dressing gown, explaining that their very wel come visit was unexpected, and that she had decided to retire early.

Then she looked at them expectantly.

Alicia, also in her dressing gown, came into the room looking very frightened.

"You should have stayed in bed," Claudia said, and turned to Clete and Dorotea. "She's got some sort of influenza. This morning she was nauseous."

"Mother, for God's sake."

"Alicia," Clete said. "Peter's on his way to Argentina.''

"Oh, thank God!" Alicia said, and started to weep.

"Exactly what is going on around here?" Claudia demanded suspiciously. "I'm pleased to hear that Peter's coming back, but couldn't you have telephoned the news?

Or wouldn't it have waited until morning?"

"Tia Claudia, there's something Alicia's been trying to find a way to tell you," Dorotea said.

[ FOUR]

El Palomar Airfield

Buenos Aires 1640 30

May 1943

Clete was sitting in the cockpit of the Lodestar. One of the two speakers of his headset was on one ear, allowing him to listen to radio traffic; the other ear was free, so he could con verse with the student sitting in the right seat.

He was functioning as an Instructor Pilot, and loving the role, because his student was not only attentive and an obvi ously quick learner, but absolutely adorable as well.

And then he heard what he was waiting to hear: "El Palo mar, Lufthansa Six Two Nine."

"Darling, put your cans on," Clete ordered.

" 'Cans'?" Dorotea parroted, obviously amused at the term; but she put the earphones quickly over her head. Her husband thought her expression was priceless.

"Lufthansa Six Two Nine, this is El Palomar."

"El Palomar, Lufthansa Six Two Nine is at two thousand meters sixty kilometers south of you, over the River Plate.

Request approach and landing instructions."

"Lufthansa Six Two Nine, El Palomar. Permission to approach El Palomar on present course is granted. Descend to one thousand meters. Report when twenty kilometers from the field."

"El Palomar Six Two Nine. Understand and will comply.

Beginning descent at this time."

Two minutes later, Lufthansa Six Two Nine called again.

"El Palomar, Six Two Nine. At one thousand meters. Due north. Indicating four hundred kilometers. Estimate maybe twenty-five kilometers from your station."

"Six Two Nine, Palomar, continue your approach," the tower said.

"Oh, shit!" Don Cletus Frade said.

Dorotea looked at him with concern. He pointed out the cockpit window.

El Coronel Bernardo Martin and Manuel Lascano were walking across the tarmac toward them. Both were in uni form. Leica 35-mm cameras hung from their necks.

Enrico put his head in the cockpit. "Senor Clete…"

"I saw them."

"What do I do?"

"Open the door and smile," Clete said. "What else can we do?"

"Si, Senor," Enrico said, and turned and went into the pas senger compartment.

A minute later, Martin put his head into the cockpit.

"Seniora Frade," he said, "how delightful to see you."

"Mi Coronel," Dorotea said. "Since we're going to be friends, why don't you call me Dorotea?"

"I would be greatly honored to do so, Dorotea," Martin said. "My Christian name is Bernardo."

"And what brings you to El Palomar, mi Coronel?"

"I would be honored if you would also use my Christian name, Don Cletus."

"And I would be pleased if you called me Clete, without the Don, Bernardo," Clete said. "You didn't answer my question."

"Lufthansa Six Two Nine," Clete heard over his ear phones, "you are cleared to land on Runway One Eight.

There is no other traffic. The winds are from the north gust ing to thirty kilometers."

"Understand, One Eight. Winds north gusting to thirty. I have the runway in sight."

"I would hazard the guess that I'm here for the same reason you are, Clete," Martin said, and knelt, and then pointed out the side cockpit window. Lufthansa Six Two Nine had its wheels down and was making its final approach to El

Palomar.

"Good-looking bird, isn't it?" Clete asked.

"Beautiful," Martin agreed. "For my general fund of avia tion knowledge, which is faster, this or the Condor?"

"I think I'm a little faster," Clete said.

"I hope you won't mind," Martin said, "but I asked the authorities to have him park his machine to your right."

"Why should I mind?"

"I thought it would give us a chance to see who's getting off, without appearing too obvious," Martin said.

And make a few snapshots for the family scrapbook, right?

"I'm sure you will be both be delighted to see Major von