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A major, two lieutenants, and a sergeant walked up to the Storch as Cronley parked it in front of a building that combined Base Operations with a control tower, a double-door fire station, and what looked like a PX coffee shop.
The sergeant went to the tail and started writing on a clipboard.
“He’s righteously writing down our tail numbers,” Cronley announced.
“Go,” Frade ordered.
Cronley climbed out of the airplane, took his CIC credentials from his pocket, and opened the folder so the major could get a quick look.
“Good afternoon,” Cronley said cheerfully. “We’re going to have to top off my tanks and then put the airplane in a hangar where as few people as possible will see it. Any problems with that?”
Clete was now out of the airplane.
The major saluted.
“Good afternoon,” Clete said, crisply returning it, then addressed Jimm
y: “We’re running late. Where’s the car?”
“I don’t know, Colonel,” Cronley said.
“Well, Major?” Frade demanded. “Where is it?”
“Sir, I don’t know anything about a car,” the major said.
“You did know we were coming, correct?”
“No, sir.”
“My God, Mr. MacNamara!” Clete snapped to Jimmy. “Can’t the Army do anything right? Does General Tedworth expect me to walk to the Vier Jahreszeiten? Find a phone somewhere and get General Tedworth on the line. If he’s not available, I’ll talk to General Dunwiddie.”
“Yes, sir,” Cronley said.
The major looked up from his clipboard and quickly said, “Colonel, we can get you a car. No problem.”
“Please do so,” Frade said. “And quickly. You heard me say we’re running late. And when I come back here very early tomorrow morning, I expect my aircraft to be ready to go. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. No problem, Colonel.”
The major’s face showed that he was not going to ask any questions about the Storch. Colonel Frade turned his back to the major and winked at Captain Cronley.
“Take not counsel of your fears,” he announced. “I believe General Patton said that, so you might wish to write it down.”
[ FOUR ]
Hotel Vier Jahreszeiten
Maximilianstrasse 178
Munich, American Zone of Occupation, Germany
1745 2 November 1945
Sergeant Friedrich Hessinger, wearing pinks and greens, intercepted Cronley and Frade as they headed for the elevators in the lobby of the hotel.
Elegant as usual, Cronley thought. The only thing missing is the blond—or two blonds—he usually has hanging on to his arms.
