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“‘Harry,’ the admiral said, “‘General Gehlen is an old-school Kraut officer. I don’t think he’ll stand still for taking orders from a captain.’

“And the President said, ‘Why don’t we ask him?’

“So we asked General Gehlen. So there you sit, Mr. Chief, DCI-Europe. Okay? Any questions?”

“How soon can I expect to be relieved when you find some bird colonel you can trust, who’s acceptable to General Gehlen and should have this job?”

“The job is yours until you screw up—or one of your people does—and Operation Ost is blown.”

“Then I get thrown to the wolves?”

“Then you get thrown to the wolves. If that happens, try to take as few people down with you as you can. Any questions?”

“No, sir,” Cronley said, and a moment later, “Thanks, Oscar.”

[FIVE]

Suite 507

Hotel Vier Jahreszeiten

Maximilianstrasse 178

Munich, American Zone of Occupation, Germany

2010 16 January 1946

There had been a delay in the departure of SAA flight 233, so Cronley had told Max Ostrowski, “Head home. That way, if I have to go to Munich instead of Kloster Grünau, there will be only one Storch parked in the transient area to arouse curiosity, not two.”

When Schultz and Ashton finally got off the ground, he knew there was no chance of his making it to the monastery strip before dark, so he went to the snack bar in the terminal and had a greasy hamburger, fries, and a Coke before leaving Rhine-Main.

He had another—much better—hamburger at Schleissheim, the Munich military post airfield, when he landed, and then got a ride to the hotel.

As he walked down the corridor to his room, he saw light under the door to 507, which was where Fat Freddy held court, and he pushed the huge door handle down and walked in.

I will tell Freddy everything Schultz said in the generals’ mess and see what he has to say.

Hessinger was not behind the desk. Technical Sergeant Claudette Colbert was.

She rose from behind the desk at which she was typing when she saw him.

She was wearing a “pink” as in pinks-and-greens officer’s skirt and a khaki shirt, and he saw an officer’s green tunic on the coatrack.

Well, it didn’t take much time for her to get in triangles, did it?

“Good evening, sir.”

“Now that you’re a civilian, you can drop the ‘sir,’ Claudette.”

“Sorry, I forgot.”

“Where’s Freddy?”

“He said he was going to visit a friend.”

“Yeah.”

“He left a number, shall I call him for you?”