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Körtig and Stoll stood up.
“I know who you are, of course,” Körtig said. “But not which is who.”
Peter came to attention, clicked his heels, nodded, and said, “Peter von Wachtstein, Herr Oberstleutnant.”
Pedro Nolasco’s eyebrows rose.
Clete thought: I wonder how long it’s going to take to get Peter to get that Pavlovian reaction out of his system.
Körtig put out his hand. “I was privileged to be a friend of both your father and Claus von Stauffenberg, von Wachtstein. I’m very glad to see you here.” He paused and added, “Where we rarely come to attention and click our heels.”
Otto, Clete thought, you’re reading my mind.
“And where I am known as el Señor Körtig,” Niedermeyer finished.
“That was stupid of me, wasn’t it?” von Wachtstein asked after a moment’s reflection.
After pausing long enough to make it clear that he agreed with von Wachtstein’s assessment of his own behavior, Körtig then gestured at Stoll. “My deputy at Abwehr Ost, the former Hauptmann Ludwig Wertz, now known as el Señor Stoll.” Körtig paused, then asked, “And by what name are you now known?”
God, Clete thought admiringly, you’re a good officer!
“His own,” Clete answered for him. “When he and Boltitz got off the plane from the United States, Father Silva’s boss—the Black Pope’s nuncio to Argentina, otherwise known as Father Welner—”
Subinspector General Nolasco laughed. He had told Clete the head of the Society of Jesus was known as “The Black Pope.”
“—handed them libretas de enrolamiento in their own names, stating they’d immigrated here before the war,” Clete finished.
“How do you do, Señor Körtig?” Boltitz asked.
“And I knew your father, too. I presume this charming young woman is la Señora Boltitz?”
“The charming young woman is the Baroness von Wachtstein,” Clete said, then pointed. “That one is my sister, Beth, who has high hopes that Boltitz will eventually make an honest woman of her.”
“I can’t believe you said that!” Beth said. And then added, “You sonofabitch!”
Nolasco laughed again.
All the Germans—especially Boltitz—looked uncomfortable.
“She loves me unconditionally, as you may have just heard,” Clete said. “Beth, see if you can say ‘hello’ nicely to the gentlemen.”
“Before we get down to serious drinking,” Frade announced when the handshaking was over, “I think we have to get into how the surrender in Europe is going to affect things here. There have been some interesting developments, some concerning U-boats that may or may not be headed here. Karl and Peter have already heard all this; there’s no reason for them to hear it again. Enrico, why don’t you give them a tour of the place and show them what’s changed while they were in Fort Hunt? Give us two hours or so.”
Frade exchanged glances with Boltitz.
That should be enough time for you and Beth to figure out how to be alone.
[TWO]
Casa Montagna Estancia Don Guillermo Mendoza Province, Argentina 1810 14 May 1945
It had taken all of the two hours that Frade had guessed it would, but the conclusion drawn by all was essentially that nothing, for the moment, was really changed by the unconditional surrender of the Thousand-Year Reich. Until they heard from Colonel Gehlen and learned what was going to happen to what they now called the “Gehlen organization,” they would have to wait and see what happened next. And the U-boats were a wild card that they could do nothing about—even if they did exist—until more intel could be collected.
For now at Casa Montagna, the Gehlen Nazis would remain in their comfortable imprisonment. Father Silva would continue his efforts to see that the wives and their children who didn’t wish to be eventually returned to Germany were absorbed into the society of Argentina. And Subinspector General Nolasco would continue to ensure that the Gehlen Nazis didn’t try to vanish into Argentine society.
Clete found himself at the bar with a glass of Don Guillermo Cabernet Sauvignon in hand, wondering about the moral implications of his having arranged for Beth to finally jump into bed with Karl Boltitz. And wondering what was going to happen to them.
It’s a given that they will get married, probably as soon as Cletus Marcus Howell can get down here from the States.
