Griffin W.E.B. - Honor Bound 04 - Death and Honor

WHATEVER THE CIRCUMSTANCES, IT IS AGREED BETWEEN US THAT THE FROGGERS ARE IN POSSESSION OF KNOWLEDGE (PERHAPS UNWITTINGLY) OF INFORMATION THAT COULD CAUSE SERIOUS DAMAGE TO OPERATION PHOENIX SPECIFICALLY AND BE EMBARRASSING TO THE GERMAN REICH SHOULD IT BECOME PUBLIC.

THEREFORE, CANARIS AND THE UNDERSIGNED ARE AGREED THAT VON DIETZBERG WAS BOTH CORRECT AND ACTING WITHIN HIS AUTHORITY WHEN HE ORDERED THE ELIMINATION OF BOTH INDIVIDUALS WHEN AND WHERE FOUND. IDEALLY, THERE WOULD BE AN OPPORTUNITY TO INTERROGATE BOTH TO DETERMINE HOW MUCH INFORMATION HAS BEEN PASSED TO THE ENEMY BEFORE THEY ARE EXECUTED, BUT THIS IS A SECONDARY CONSIDERATION.

THE QUESTION THEN BECOMES HOW TO LOCATE THEM. WE ARE IN AGREEMENT THAT OUR BEST CHANCE TO DO THIS IS THROUGH COLONEL PERÓN. ONCE IT IS POINTED OUT TO HIM THAT THE DISCLOSURE OF HIS CONNECTION WITH OPERATION PHOENIX — SPECIFICALLY INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO PROVIDING ARGENTINE ARMY PROTECTION OF THE LANDING OF THE SPECIAL CARGO — WOULD ALMOST CERTAINLY PRECLUDE HIS EVER BECOMING PRESIDENT OF ARGENTINA, IT IS FELT HE WOULD LEND HIS CONSIDERABLE INFLUENCE, BOTH MILITARY AND ON THE GOVERNMENT GENERALLY, TO THE RESOLUTION OF THIS PROBLEM.

AS AN IMMEDIATE SOLUTION OF THE PROBLEM IS OBVIOUSLY NECESSARY, THIS MESSAGE SHOULD BE IMMEDIATELY BROUGHT TO THE ATTENTION OF VON GRADNY-SAWZ, STANDARTENFÜHRER CRANZ, STURMBANNFÜHRER RASCHNER, AND KAPITÄN ZUR SEE BOLTITZ ONLY REPEAT ONLY.

AS AMBASSADOR, VON LUTZENBERGER WILL BE IN OVERALL COMMAND, BUT IT IS BELIEVED AND EXPECTED THAT VON LUTZENBERGER WILL DEFER IN MOST CASES TO THE PROFESSIONAL JUDGMENT OF CRANZ BECAUSE OF HIS GREATER EXPERIENCE IN THESE AREAS.

EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY, BOLTITZ WILL TRANSMIT A DAILY REPORT TO ADMIRAL CANARIS OF PROGRESS BEING MADE.

THIS MESSAGE WILL BE ACKNOWLEDGED IMMEDIATELY ON RECEIPT.

HEIL HITLER!

MARTIN BORMANN

PARTEILEITER

CONCUR

WILHELM CANARIS

VIZEADMIRAL

MANFRED VON DEITZBERG

SS-BRIGADEFÜHRER

Von Lutzenberger, shaking his head, folded the sheets of paper and put them back into the letter-sized envelope. This he absently tried to put into his suit jacket. But he wasn’t wearing a suit jacket; he was in his uniform, and it had no pockets. He ultimately learned that there were hip pockets on the uniform trousers, though none deep enough to take the white envelope without it first being folded.

This he did. He thought he would give the manila envelope to Schneider to take back to the embassy and destroy. Then he decided he would leave it in the pissoir, on the floor, where the French would find it and wonder what it might have contained.

He wordlessly left the men’s room and found Schneider still at his post.

“Go in there, Schneider,” he said, nodding at the Grand Reception Room, “and tell Herr von Gradny-Sawz that he is to immediately pick up Herr Cranz and Herr Raschner and bring them to the embassy on a matter of some importance. ”

“Jawohl, Excellency.”

“Tell Herr von Gradny-Sawz that I am going to pick up Kapitän Boltitz on my way.”

“Jawohl, Excellency.”

Von Lutzenberger scanned the room and thought: I hope it won’t take me too long to find the French ambassador to express my gratitude for his splendid hospitality and my regrets that duty calls. I really want Boltitz to see this message before we meet with the others. Maybe—very possibly—he will see something in it that I have missed.

[TWO]

The Chateau Marmont 8221 Sunset Boulevard Hollywood, California 0905 5 August 1943

When the managing director of South American Airways—wearing a tweed jacket, khaki slacks, a white polo shirt, and well-worn Western boots—walked off the elevator into the lobby of the hotel, he found eleven SAA captains and one U.S. Border Patrol captain already there.

The Immigration Service captain was in uniform. So were the SAA pilots, each nattily attired in a woolen powder-blue tunic with the four gold stripes of a captain on the sleeves, darker blue trousers, a crisp white shirt, and a leather brimmed cap with a huge crown. On their breasts were what Clete thought of as outsized golden wings, in the center of which, superimposed on the Argentine sunburst, were the letters SAA.

Chief Pilot Delgano, as was probably to be expected, had five golden stripes on his tunic sleeves and the band around his brimmed cap was of gold cloth.

To a man, they looked at him askance.

I think I just failed inspection, Frade thought.

What did they expect, that I would be wearing a SAA uniform?

And what the hell are they doing in those ridiculous uniforms, anyway?

I don’t think it’s coincidental. Somebody told them to wear them.

Let’s find out who and why. . . .

He said, “I see that everyone is properly—I should say ‘splendidly’—turned out. Your idea, Captain Delgano?”

“I thought it would be appropriate, Señor Frade,” Delgano replied seriously.

“And so it is,” Frade said.

“I’m so glad you could find time for us in your busy schedule, Mr. Frade,” the Immigration Service captain said somewhat sarcastically.

“Well, I always try to be properly turned out myself, and that takes time.” He smiled triumphantly, then said, “So, what happens now?”

“That will be explained to you later. Shall we get in the Carryalls?”

“We are completely in your hands, Captain,” Frade said.

[THREE]

Lockheed Air Terminal Burbank, California 0935 5 August 1943

They were taken to an unimpressive two-story masonry building that was just inside the fence and perhaps three hundred yards from the gate. It was not the same building to which they had been taken the night before.

As they were getting out of the Carryalls, a Border Patrol officer with major’s insignia on his epaulets came out of the building and signaled to the captain that he wanted a word with him out of hearing of the others.

“Wait here, please, gentlemen,” the Border Patrol captain ordered more than a little arrogantly.

At the last moment, Frade resisted the temptation to pop to attention, salute, and bellow, “Aye, aye, sir!” Instead, he gave the captain a thumbs-up signal, which he was pleased to find seemed to annoy the captain.

Clete took a closer look at the building.

A legend had been cast into the concrete over the door:

LOUGHEAD AIRCRAFT MANUFACTURING COMPANY

“Loughead”?

Can’t they spell?

How do you pronounce that? “Lewg-head”? “Log-head”?

Maybe that was the original name and Howard changed it. He said he changed Trans-continental and Western Airways to Trans-World Airlines.

There came the sound of multiple powerful aircraft engines on takeoff power. Everyone quickly looked for the source—and then found it. There was a runway running parallel to the building and the fence.

Coming down the runway was a brand-new P-38 glistening in the early-morning California sun. By the time the twin-engine, twin-tail Lightning reached them, it was airborne, its landing gear nearly retracted. The pilot apparently had pulled back on the stick the moment he had gotten a green gear-up-and-locked light, because the nose of the fighter lifted as he made a steep climbing turn to the right.

Clete heard himself grunt.

That’s what the hell I should be doing, flying something like that.

I’m a fighter pilot, not a damn fly-gently-so-as-to-not-disturb-the-passengers aerial bus driver.

As the Lightning rapidly grew smaller as it climbed, there came the sound again of powerful engines at takeoff power, and another P-38 roared down the runway. This one also had its gear retracted by the time it reached them and had begun a steep climbing turn in the direction of the first fighter. Sixty seconds after that second Lightning passed them, there again came the sounds of engines on takeoff power, and a third P-38 took off.