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The FBI agents got in one of the staff cars and it drove off.
Frade handed the microphone to the Air Force major.
“Thank you, Major.”
“May I ask, sir, what that was all about?”
“You can ask, but I can’t tell you,” Frade said, smiling. “If I did, I’d have to kill you.”
The major chuckled.
“On the other hand, you can tell me what the FBI told you about us. And that’s not in the order of a suggestion.”
“Sir, he said that they were investigating the exfiltration of Nazis from Germany into Argentina.”
“He told you we were suspected of exfiltrating Nazis out of Germany? Into Argentina?”
“He implied that, Colonel.”
“Cronley, show the major your credentials,” Frade ordered.
Cronley did so.
“When I saw Twenty-three CIC on your vertical stabilizer,” the major said, as he handed them back, “I cleverly deduced the CIC might somehow be involved in this. You’re sure you can’t tell me how?”
“I can tell you this much: What I am going to do is exfiltrate Admiral Sidney Souers, who is senior counselor to President Truman, out of Germany into Washington, D.C. He’s been here conferring with General Eisenhower.”
“Yes, sir, I know. We’ve had your airplane under heavy security since it arrived.”
“I’d love to know how the FBI came up with that me-smuggling-Nazis-out-of-Germany theory.”
“No telling, Colonel. But it does make you wonder if the FBI is as perfect as they would have us all believe, doesn’t it?” He paused. “I’m sorry about all this, Colonel.”
“Forget it. You were just doing your job.”
“Is there anything I can do for you, sir?”
“Two things. You can take me to my airplane and arrange for Cronley to top off the tanks in the Storch.”
“Why don’t I send for a fuel truck and then take you to your airplane in my car?”
“How about having the Follow me lead Cronley and his Storch to the Connie?” Frade asked. “That way I will have to take my suitcase out of the airplane just once instead of unloading it into your car, et cetera?”
“Done,” the major said. “I’ll have the fuel truck meet us at your Constellation.”
“I will go in the Storch,” Frade said. “Even with a Follow me to lead him, Cronley—he learned to fly last week—would probably get lost between here and there in your great big airport.”
The major laughed out loud.
“Colonel, thanks for not being sore about this. The FBI came into my office, waving their credentials. And, frankly, I’ve heard the rumors about Nazis escaping to South America. I just . . .”
“I probably would have reacted the same way.”
“That’s very good of you, sir.”
“I will mention what happened to General Smith,” Frade said. He turned to Cronley. “All right, Special Agent Cronley. Into the airplane, and please remember to engage your brain before starting the engine.”
The major laughed out loud again.
