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Clete saw that all the Germans were amused. It was only with a major effort that he kept his temper under control.
If I stand Cronley tall and really let him have it, all that will accomplish is to really amuse the Germans.
How do I know these other two are German?
“Peter, who are these people?” Clete asked.
“Old comrades from the Luftwaffe,” von Wachtstein said. “Willi Grüner and Dieter von und zu Aschenburg.”
Frade’s memory banks kicked in.
The older one used to fly Lufthansa Condors into here. That’s why I recognize him.
The young one is who Peter went to flight school with and flew with in Spain.
And now that I think about it, von Whatever-his-name-is was their commanding officer.
So, what obviously has happened is that they somehow got together in Berlin, or Frankfurt, and he just loaded them on the plane.
Without of course asking me if that was okay.
And without considering it was putting Operation Ost at risk.
He felt his temper rise, and then got it under control as he wordlessly shook their hands.
Get off your high horse, Cletus.
You would have done exactly the same thing.
“Welcome to Argentina,” he said. “Getting you off the airport may pose a problem. The man who handles things like that for us isn’t here.” He looked at Peter. “When they were shooting at me in the Lodestar, they managed to hit General Martín in the leg. He’s on crutches.”
“Is he going to be all right?” von Wachtstein asked.
“Yeah.”
“And Colonel Peon?” von Wachtstein asked, smiling.
“You think that’s funny, do you?”
“Colonel Peon is a good name for a dictator, wouldn’t you say?”
“Colonel Perón’s fine. As a matter of fact, Colonel Perón and Señorita Evita Duarte were married yesterday. Martín, Father Welner, and I were the witnesses.”
“He actually married her?”
“He actually married her. And ordered Bernardo to pin copies of the wedding register to the doors of the dining rooms at the Circulo Militar and the officers’ club at Campo Mayo.”
“I thought you said Bernardo was on crutches,” von Wachtstein said.
“He was. He is. Enrico’s here—he’ll know how to get your friends past the immigration people.”
“That’s not going to be a problem. I went to Germany with Argentine passports and libretas de enrolamiento for Dieter and Willi in my pocket. Courtesy of Bernardo.”
Frade nodded.
“Cletus,” Boltitz then said, “I turned up something interesting about U-405 in Bremen. It is possible she made landfall in southern Argentina.”
“How good is your information?”
