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

After a moment, von Gradny-Sawz said, "With the peso at about four to the dollar, a bit more than 400,000 pesos."

I have just confessed my guilt!

What the hell is going on here?

"And how far do you think that will take you when you try to find a new life here? You'll have to buy an apartment or a house, and buy groceries, in addition to what it's going to cost you to grease the necessary Argentine palms."

Von Gradny-Sawz did not reply.

"I'm sure you read Reichsfuhrer-SS Himmler's letter to Ambassador von Lutzenberger; the envelope was not sealed," von Deitzberg went on. "The last paragraph of which is significant: The Fuhrer has told the Reichsfuhrer-SS to have me deal with destroying the aircraft of the OSS airline. You saw that?"

Von Gradny-Sawz nodded but did not speak.

"In the last several weeks, for example, the Soviet army has recaptured both Smolensk and Kharkov. Not to mention what's happened in Italy. The Fuhrer doesn't like to think about those defeats. He turns his attention to something like these airplanes in Argentina. If he issues an order--'Have von Deitzberg deal with this'--he really believes it will be obeyed. His orders to his generals to not yield a meter to the Red Army or the English and Americans don't seem to get obeyed.

"My problem, Anton, is that I don't have any idea how to destroy those airplanes. I don't think Herr Frade is going to leave them sitting unprotected on a field somewhere where my SS people here can sneak up to them in the dead of night and attach a bomb. I don't even have a bomb, and my SS people here--I'm speaking of Cranz and Raschner--are bungling incompetents. They can't find the spies in the embassy. They can't even carry out the assassination of Herr Frade.

"Now, I will of course do my best to carry out the Fuhrer's orders. But I'm a realist, Anton. I don't think I'll be successful. I will get rid of Herr Frade, and I will ensure that Operation Phoenix is running smoothly and I may even be able to find the spies or traitors in the embassy.

"But the Fuhrer will not be impressed with this. All he will know is that the OSS airline is still flying back and forth across the Atlantic. And he will think that SS-Brigadefuhrer Ritter Manfred von Deitzberg is no better than the other gottverdammt aristocrats with which he is surrounded. He refuses to obey his Fuhrer's orders."

Von Gradny-Sawz found his voice: "I can see the problem, Herr Brigadefuhrer."

"Call me Manfred, Anton. We are of the same class, after all. And let's talk about that, about our noble background that the Fuhrer finds so offensive. Your lands will disappear as down a flushing toilet when the Russians get to Hungary. The von Deitzberg estates disappeared in the depression following the Versailles Convention. I could not follow my noble ancestors in a military career because there was simply no money. I quite literally went hungry when I was a junior officer in the army. I transferred to the SS because I believed--and I was proven right--that I could rapidly advance in rank because my competition would be inept fools like Cranz and Raschner.

"And now even that seems at the edge of being lost," von Deitzberg said almost sadly. "I've given this a great deal of thought, Anton. One thing I asked myself is why, despite all the upheavals of history, there is still nobility, people such as ourselves. Have you ever considered that, Anton?"

"I can't truthfully say I have, Herr . . . Manfred."

"Because we have, over the centuries, adapted to changing circumstances. You've done that yourself, Anton. You were wise enough to see the Anschluss coming, and to make sure you weren't tossed into the gutter when that happened. Wouldn't you agree?"

"That's true," von Gradny-Sawz said.

"As far as I am concerned, Anton, loyalty does not mean one has to commit suicide."

"I think that's true," von Gradny-Sawz said solemnly. "There is a point at which--"

"Precisely!" von Deitzberg interrupted. "And we--you and I--have reached that point."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"We will, as our code of honor requires, do our duty to Germany to the best of our ability just as long as we possibly can. But then . . ."

"Then what?"

"How could we continue to serve Germany if we were returned to the Fatherland as prisoners, Anton?" von Deitzberg asked reasonably. "In chains? Destined for a Russian slave labor camp?"

"I take your point, Manfred."

"If . . . if everything goes wrong, and at the last possible moment we started to look out for ourselves, how would that violate our code of honor?"

"I can't see where it would."

"And what would be wrong with you and me doing what our leaders are doing with Operation Phoenix: setting up a place where we can live in safety until things settle down?"

"Nothing," von Gradny-Sawz said firmly.

"We might even be able to--almost certainly we would be able to --provide sanctuary for others who were not able to plan ahead. Widows, for example."

"I can see where that would be entirely possible."

"Now, Anton, if we were to do this, we would have to do it in absolute secrecy."

"Yes, of course."

"Cranz and Raschner must never even suspect."

"I understand."

"It happens that I have access to some funds in Uruguay. Enough funds to finance this."

"Really?"

"If I were to get these funds to you, would you know how to set this up?"

"Oh, yes. Frankly, I've been thinking along these lines myself. I have even taken some preliminary steps. There is a delightful area here, in the footsteps of the Andes, around a charming little town, San Carlos de Bariloche, where I am sure we could, with absolute discretion, acquire just the property we would need. It's very much like Bavaria. Should it come to this, of course."

"Well, I think we have to consider that possibility as being very real."

"Yes, I think we do."

"Then the thing for me to do is get to Uruguay as soon as possible. I presume that von Wachtstein still has that Fieseler Storch?"

"May I make a suggestion, Manfred?"

"Certainly."

"Why don't you fly to Montevideo?"

"I was thinking of having von Wachtstein fly me there in the Storch."

"I meant take South American Airways. They have two flights in each direction every day."

"That would mean passing through both Argentine and Uruguayan customs and immigration, would it not? Are these documents you arranged for . . ."

Von Gradny-Sawz nodded and said more than a little smugly, "Jorge Schenck and his wife--they were childless--were killed in an auto crash in 1938. The people I dealt with have removed the reports of their demise from the appropriate registers. That way, the original number of his Document of National Identity became available. Your documents, Senor Schenck, can stand up under any kind of scrutiny."

"You are an amazing man, Anton."

"What I was going to suggest, Manfred, was that you take the SAA flight this afternoon--it leaves at four and takes less than an hour--then spend the night. And when Cranz comes here--and he should be here any minute--you have him order von Wachtstein to fly to Montevideo tomorrow."

"Why should I do that?"

"Because he enjoys diplomatic privilege," von Gradny-Sawz said. "No authority--Argentine or Uruguayan--can ask to see what's inside a package he might be carrying. As either authority might--probably would--demand of Senor Schenck."

"Allow me to repeat, you are an amazing man, Anton," von Deitzberg said, and put out his hand. "I think our collaboration is going to be a success. Not to mention, mutually profitable."

XII

[ONE]

Aeropuerto Coronel Jorge G. Frade

Moron, Buenos Aires Province, Argentina