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“Oberst Mannberg?”
“The same, thank you.”
“Captain?”
“Jack Daniel’s, please.”
Dunwiddie made the drinks, taking a Haig & Haig for himself, and delivered them.
Gehlen raised his to Cronley.
“In addition to offering our congratulations on your well-deserved promotion,” the general began in a solemn tone, “Mannberg and I would like to offer our condolences on your loss.” He paused, then as if he had read Cronley’s mind, added, “Colonel Mattingly telephoned earlier.”
As everyone took a sip of drink, Cronley thought, That’s not surprising.
But what all did Mattingly tell you, General?
That we had found U-234 and the uranium oxide?
And that I’d been promoted? But not why or by whom?
And that my girl—my wife—had been killed in an auto accident?
Why the hell didn’t Mattingly tell me what he was going to tell you?
Or tell me what I could tell you?
Admiral Souers made it pretty goddamned clear that the Eleventh Commandment is “Thou shalt not share classified material with people who don’t have the Need to Know.”
Technically, you’re both prisoners of war. POWs by definition do not have the Need to Know.
But you’re only technically POWs, as we all know.
And I wouldn’t have found U-234 had it not been for you giving me what intel you had about her.
This is one of those situations where I have to choose between two options, both of which are the wrong one.
So, what do you do, Captain Cronley, you experienced intelligence officer with two whole days in grade?
You follow the rules and tell them nothing. Or as little as possible.
I can’t follow the rules.
In this Through the Looking Glass World we’re in, the jailer has to earn and hold the respect of the prisoners. Or at least these two prisoners.
“Thank you,” Cronley then said. “I’m still trying to get used to both situations. So let me begin by giving you, Oberst Mannberg, the best wishes of Fregattenkapitän Wilhelm von Dattenberg.”
Cronley had spoken in German. He spoke it so well that most Germans thought that he was a Strasbourger, as his mother was.
“It’s good to hear he survived,” Mannberg said.
“He was with me when we found the U-234. He persuaded her captain—”
“That would be Schneider, Alois Schneider?” Mannberg put in.
“Yes, sir.”
I’m being interrogated. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be.
