The Honor Of Spies - The Honor of Spies Part 59
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The Honor of Spies Part 59

"And you left it at that, Edmundo?" Nervo asked.

"Except for telling him not to send troops to Estancia Don Guillermo until I got back to him. It might offend Don Cletus, and Cousin Erich knew how close Don Cletus was to El Presidente."

"Maybe you should get them out of there," Martin suggested. "God might tell Schmidt to go get them."

"They're not going anywhere," Clete said evenly. "I need them. My wife lives there."

"And the Froggers, right?" Martin asked.

"And the Froggers," Clete admitted.

"If Schmidt goes there, it would be with at least one company of Mountain Troops."

"I can hold that mountain against his entire regiment," Clete said, unimpressed.

"Which would start that civil war we've been talking about," Nervo said. "That can't be allowed to happen."

"Then you had better figure out a way to keep this guy away from Casa Montagna," Clete said.

"I can stall him for several weeks," Wattersly said. "I mean insofar as 'get ting back to him' is concerned. I can't guarantee he won't act on his own."

"You better see that he doesn't, Edmundo," Nervo said.

The library door opened and Dorotea Mallin de Frade stepped into the room.

"I realize I'm interrupting all the naughty stories, but dinner is ready, gentlemen," she said.

"You could not have appeared at a better time, senora," General Nervo said. "I think we have said all that needed to be said. Right, Martin?"

Martin nodded, then looked at Wattersly, who nodded and then looked at Clete, who nodded.

"General Nervo, darling, was telling this story about the two nuns and the Gendarme--"

"I don't want to hear it," Dorotea said.

General Nervo laid his hand on Cletus's arm and motioned for him to follow Dorotea out of the library.

I don't know what the hell it is, but the touch of his hand makes me think I have just passed inspection.

XIII.

[ONE].

Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo

Near Pila

Buenos Aires Province, Argentina

0945 2 October 1943

The Reverend Kurt Welner's 1940 Packard 160 convertible coupe, roof down, was parked in front of the big house when the convoy--a 1941 Ford station wagon, the Horch, and a second Ford station wagon bringing up the rear--arrived carrying Don Cletus Frade and his wife to their home.

"Oh, good!" Clete said, thickly sarcastic. "Now I can go to confession. I was getting a little worried. I haven't been to Mass in a week!"

"Cletus!" Dona Dorotea exclaimed.

"And maybe we can get Father Kurt to say Grace before I have my breakfast," Clete, unrepentant, went on.

"If you hadn't insisted on getting up in the middle of the night to come out here," Dorotea said, "you could have had your breakfast in Buenos Aires."

"It was in the hope that I would find peace in my humble home. Peace and breakfast."

"When we go inside, you behave!" Dorotea ordered.

Kurt Welner, S.J., and two other priests--both of whom Clete pegged as some kind of clerical bureaucrats--were in the sitting room when Clete and Dorotea, trailed by Enrico, walked in.

The two priests with Welner rose to their feet. Welner did not.

"Bless you, my children," Clete intoned sonorously as he raised his hand to shoulder level in a blessing gesture.

"Cletus!" Dorotea snapped furiously.

"Father," Enrico said, "Don Cletus is very, very tired. . . ."

Welner made a gesture that said I understand--or perhaps I understand he's crazy.

Dorotea went to Father Welner and kissed him, then shook the hands of the other two.

"I'm Dorotea Mallin de Frade. Welcome to Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo."

"I absolutely have to have my breakfast," Clete said. "Anyone else hungry?"

"Actually, all we've had is coffee and a biscuit," Welner said, and stood. He pointed his finger at one of the other priests and, switching to German, added, "Cletus, this is Otto Niedermeyer."

Clete now remembered seeing SS-Hauptscharfuhrer Niedermeyer in Lisbon as he boarded the Ciudad de Rosario.

Niedermeyer snapped to attention and barked, "Herr Major!"

Clete had a sudden chilling series of thoughts: Jesus Christ! When I so cleverly decided that I could get away with not telling Martin and Nervo about bringing these people to Argentina, I didn't think about them actually being here, and that Martin and Nervo will, as sure as Christ made little apples, find out that they are!

What the hell was I thinking?

Or not thinking?

When they find out I lied to them, there goes that "We're all in this together!"

What the hell am I going to do?

"Don't ever use my rank again!" Clete said unpleasantly in German, then asked, "And the other fellow?"

"If you don't know his name," Welner said, "then you could truthfully say you've never heard of him." He let that sink in. "He's going to arrange for National Identity booklets, et cetera."

And that's just one of the ways they'll find out they're here!

If somebody in the Interior Ministry is passing out National Identity booklets to people who shouldn't have them, Martin knows about it.

And so does Nervo.

And by now Martin's people on Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo--Good Ol' Carlos Aguirre, "my" airframe and power plant mechanic, who I know works for Martin, pops quickly to mind--are already wondering what Welner and the other two Jesuits are doing here. And does Nervo have his own people on Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo, keeping an eye on Don Cletus Frade?

You bet your ass he does!

And are they wondering the same thing?

You bet your ass they are!

"If I don't know his name, how am I going to get in touch with him if I need him?" Clete asked.

"Through me."

"I don't like that," Clete said flatly.

They locked eyes for a moment.

"Cletus," Welner said finally, "this is Father Francisco Silva. Also of the Society of Jesus."

Clete went to Silva and shook his hand.

"Make sure I have your phone number before you leave, Father," he said. "But right now let's get some breakfast."

He walked to the door to the dining room, but before he reached the door, it opened.

Elisa Gomez--Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo's chief housekeeper, a plump female in her late forties who was wearing a severe black dress and had a large wooden cross hanging around her neck--stood there.

"Don Cletus?" she said.

But Clete saw that Elisa was looking at the priests, and with great curiosity.

"We're going to need breakfast," Clete said. "A lot of it." He looked at Welner and asked, "Where are the others?"

"They should be here soon," Welner said. "They're coming in a Little Sisters of the Poor bus."

And when Aguirre and whoever Nervo has watching me see a busload of priests, nuns, and orphan children showing up here in a Little Sisters of the Poor bus, then me flying everybody off in the Lodestar, they're going to say, "How nice! Don Cletus has found religion!"

In a pig's ass they are!

On a scale of one to ten, Major Frade, you have fucked up to at least twelve!

"For a dozen people, Elisa," Clete went on.

"Si, Don Cletus."

"And bring coffee and sweet rolls while we're waiting, please."

The first people to arrive--unexpectedly--were Lieutenant Oscar J. Schultz, USNR, in his gaucho clothing, and Staff Sergeant Jerry O'Sullivan of the United States Army, who was in uniform except that he was wearing neither a necktie nor any headgear. He had a Thompson submachine gun hanging from his shoulder.

Schultz took one look around the room and said, "Oops! Sorry."

Clete waved them into the dining room.

"Padre," Schultz said to Welner.

"Father," O'Sullivan said.

"Jefe," Welner replied. "Jerry."

Clete saw Niedermeyer looking at Schultz with interest bordering on in credulity.

"Say hello to Otto Niedermeyer," Clete said, pointing to him. "When he's not dressed up like a Jesuit priest, he's an SS sergeant major."

Schultz crossed to Niedermeyer and offered his hand.

"I never know when he's kidding," Schultz said in German.

"I kid you not," Frade said.

"And sometimes he even explains things to me," Schultz added, then glanced at Clete. "Is this one of those times?"

"In a minute," Clete said. "Had your breakfast?"

"Cup of coffee is all," Schultz said. "The Other Dorotea spent the night with her mother. The perimeter gauchos said you'd just driven onto the estancia. We thought we'd welcome you home." He looked at Niedermeyer. "Not one of those from the U-boat?"