W. IV - Honor Bound 05 - The Honor of Spies

"That's absolutely disgusting!" Dona Dorotea exclaimed. "They believed that?"

"Everybody but Martin's guy," Nervo said.

"Are you going to warn Leibermann?" Clete asked.

"For the foreseeable future, Milton is going to be under close BIS surveillance to make sure he does nothing against the interests of the Argentine Republic," Martin said, and chuckled, and added, "And just as soon as I get back to Buenos Aires, I'll explain to him what it's all about."

"Tell him what you told me," Nervo said, and then went on without giving Martin a chance to reply: "He said it would be good training for his agents; that Senor Milton is better at escaping from surveillance than anyone he's ever known."

"You think von Deitzberg will try to assassinate Leibermann?" Clete asked.

"Actually, no. He'd have to do it in Buenos Aires, either himself or using some German from the embassy. I really don't think our assassination professionals would be available. Both Martin and I have gotten the word to them that the season on Americans is closed. And you and Enrico removed three of the best of them from their rolls.

"But is von Deitzberg going to try to assassinate you and the Froggers? Oh, yes. Even if he has to do it himself. When he went to Bariloche, he took with him the SS officer in charge of the SS people who were on the submarine. In private conversation after the dinner, Martin's guy said von Deitzberg was talking about the similarities between 'rescuing' someone from Casa Montagna and the rescue of Mussolini from that mountain in Italy. He said the SS officer--his name is Schafer, Hauptsturmfuhrer Sepp Schafer--had gleams of glory in his eyes. He sees a chance for him to become the Otto Skorzeny of South America. What I think Schafer is going to do is reconnoiter this place."

"If he does, can I shoot him?"

"I'm just a simple . . ."

"Yeah, I know. Senor Simple Policeman. Answer the question."

"They would just send somebody else. If you don't shoot him, then they will think they will have the element of surprise."

"And they won't?"

"It's about fifteen hundred kilometers from San Martin to here," Nervo said. "The rule of thumb for a motor convoy is an average of thirty-five kilometers per hour. That's about forty-three hours. Even pushing--say they try to drive fourteen hours a day--that's three days . . ."

"Gee, I didn't know simple policemen could do that kind of figuring in their heads," Clete said.

Nervo smiled and shook his head. ". . . and what Martin and I have been doing is arranging to stretch that time a little. The convoy is going to have to take detours along primitive roads; they will have to wait while bridge repairs are accomplished. They may even find that twenty-kilo barrels of nails have been spilled onto the roads at various places by careless carpenters, requiring the time-consuming repair of truck tires. . . ."

"Oh, mi general , you're evil!" Clete said.

"Thank you. Coming from a patricidal assassin such as yourself, I consider that a great compliment."

"I can't believe you two!" Martin said.

"Neither can I," Dona Dorotea said.

"I estimate," General Nervo said, "that from the time they leave San Martin--and we will learn that the moment they do--you will have at least four days, and possibly five, before they come knocking at your gate.

"At the very least, that should give us time to get el Coronel Wattersly from Buenos Aires to (a) best, Bariloche, or (b) last-ditch defense, here, where he can step into the road and ask el Coronel Schmidt where the hell does he think he's going without the permission of the General Staff of the Ejercito."

"Which may get him shot," Clete said.

"Indeed. But that's the best I can do right now. I have to repeat what I told you a while ago, Cletus. If there is to be a civil war, the first battle will not be between the 10th Mountain Regiment and the Gendarmeria Nacional."

"Understood," Clete said. "Thank you, Santiago."

General Nervo made a Don't be silly gesture.

"What time did you say the plane will be here?" Clete asked.

"It should be here now," Martin said. "Delgano said that the earlier we get on it, the better we'll be."

"Go pack your bags, darling," Clete said to Dorotea.

"I beg pardon?"

"You are going with the nice policeman . . ."

"I am not."

". . . who is going to take you from Aeropuerto Jorge Frade in that Buick of his to the Hospital Britanico, where your condition will be evaluated. Depending on that evaluation, you will either stay in what will be the best-guarded room in the Hospital Britanico, or go to the house on Libertador, or your mother's house--your choice--which will look like the site of a Gendarmeria convention."

"I am not," Dorotea said.

"Dona Dorotea, I am old enough to be your father," Nervo said. "Listen to your husband. Listen to me."

"Dorotea--" Martin began.

"Listen to me," Dorotea interrupted him. " I'm the one about to have this child. I don't know exactly when that will happen. But I do know that if I got in a car and rode down the hill on that bumpy road toward the airport, you would have to take me directly to the Convent Hospital instead. And if that didn't happen and I were insane enough to get onto an airplane, I would have this baby at ten thousand feet over the pampas. I don't want to try that, thank you just the same. Thank you all for your kind interest. Discussion closed."

With a great effort, Dona Dorotea hoisted herself out of her chair.

"Have a nice flight," she said. "Give my regards to Capitan Delgano."

Then she walked back into the house.

[FIVE]

Departamento 5B

Arenales 1623

Buenos Aires, Argentina

1835 15 October 1943

El Coronel Juan Domingo Peron crossed the apartment and opened the door to the elevator landing. He was wearing his uniform. But his tie was pulled down and the tunic unbuttoned, revealing worn baggy braces that had seen long service. He obviously had been drinking.

SS-Brigadefuhrer Ritter Manfred von Deitzberg stood there.

As Peron offered his hand, he said, "A pleasant surprise, Manfred. I wondered why I hadn't heard from you."

"But you knew I was here?"

Peron closed the door to the apartment.

"Cranz told me you were coming, and how," Peron said. "And also that von Gradny-Sawz had told him he'd bought you a car and that you had driven out to San Martin de los Andes to see our friend Schmidt. What was that all about?"

"You're always one step ahead of me, aren't you, Juan Domingo?"

"I try to stay that way."

"Never travel by submarine, Juan Domingo. I am still recovering."

"What was that all about?" Peron asked. "Why didn't you fly on the Condor? Why all the secrecy?"

"So far as the submarine is concerned, the Fuhrer himself wanted to know if that transport system will actually work if needed. . . ."

"Things don't seem to be going very well in the war, do they?"

"As a senior officer, I cannot agree with you. That would constitute defeatist talk. As a friend, in confidence between us, that's an understatement. You heard the Americans are in Naples?"

Peron nodded.

"And things aren't going too well in the east either," von Deitzberg said. "Anyway, I was the guinea pig to check out transportation by submarine. It was a long, long voyage."

"And driving all the way to San Martin de los Andes to see Schmidt?"

"Well, there were two reasons for that. The first was that I wanted to check on our Operation Phoenix properties out there. . . ."

"And the second?"

"Reichsfuhrer-SS Himmler himself told me to do something nice for you, and Schmidt has been working on that for me."

"What would doing something nice for me entail, exactly?" Peron asked suspiciously.