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“I’m not good at this sort of thing, Cranz,” von und zu Aschenburg said. “Why don’t I just wait in the car?”
“I understand your feelings, Herr Oberst. Let me go off at a tangent. May I have your permission, Herr Oberst, to address you by your Christian name? And that you call me ‘Karl’? And that, especially, both of you remember not to use my rank?”
“In other words, you think I should go in there with you?”
“I would be very grateful, Dieter, if you would.”
Von Wachtstein kissed his wife and then his mother-in-law on their cheeks.
“Mama,” he said to Claudia Carzino-Cormano, “I had no idea you were having guests. I tried to call, but the lines were out again. . . .”
“This is your home,” she said in Spanish, and put out her hand to von und zu Aschenburg. “Welcome to our home. I’m Claudia Carzino-Cormano.”
Von und zu Aschenburg took her hand, clicked his heels, bowed, and kissed her hand.
“Please pardon the intrusion, la señora,” he said in Spanish. “Hansel and I are old friends, and I really wanted to meet his bride. My name is Dieter von und zu Aschenburg.”
“ ‘Hansel’? As in Hansel and Gretel?”
“In German, it means ‘Little Hans,’ señora,” he replied. “I have known him that long.”
“You’ll forgive me, señor, I don’t recognize your uniform.”
“I have the honor to be a pilot for Lufthansa, señora. We just arrived, and I haven’t had time to change out of my uniform.”
“So you’re not a soldier?”
“An airline pilot, señora.”
Cletus Frade thought: In a pig’s ass you’re not a soldier; Lufthansa is entirely owned by the Luftwaffe.
And who’s the other guy? He obviously doesn’t speak Spanish. His smile is more than a little strained.
“And how should I call you?”
Try “Oberst,” Claudia.
They don’t let second lieutenants fly the Condor.
“I would be honored, señora, if you bring yourself to call me Dieter.”
“And you will please call me Claudia,” she said, and turned to Cranz. “Welcome to our home, señor. And you are?”
“I regret, madam, I do not speak Spanish,” Cranz said in German.
“He says he’s sorry he doesn’t speak Spanish, Claudia,” Frade offered helpfully in English.
“That’s not a problem, Cletus,” she said in German. “Because I do speak a little German.”
“My name is Karl Cranz, gnädige Frau,” Cranz said. “I’m newly assigned to the German embassy here. As the commercial attaché. Please forgive our intrusion.”
Frade glanced at Major Delgano and saw in his eyes that he didn’t believe that “commercial attaché” announcement, either.
Doña Claudia said, “And your mother is Austrian or you have spent some time there. Gnädige Frau is pure Viennese.”
“Guilty, gnädige Frau. My mother is a Viennese. You know Vienna?”
“I once spent a wonderful month there while visiting a friend who was in school in Germany. Let me introduce the others. . . .”
