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So what do I do?

His mouth went on automatic.

“Sure. Why not?” he said.

Cronley saw Wallace’s face tighten, but he didn’t respond directly.

But he will eventually.

“Why are you so determined to use the Storchs?” Wallace asked.

“Why don’t you think it’s a good idea?”

“Okay. Worst-case scenario. Assuming you are flying an L-4 or an L-5. You land but can’t, for any one of a dozen reasons that pop into my mind, take off. There you are with a dozen Mongolians aiming their PPShs at you. Getting the picture?”

“What’s a—what you said?”

“A Russian submachine gun. The Pistolet Pulyemet Shpagin. It comes with a seventy-five-round drum magazine.”

“Okay. What was the question?”

“They are probably going to ask what you are doing on that back road. My theory is that it would be best to be naïve and innocent. I suggest you would look far more naïve and innocent if you were wearing ODs, with second lieutenant’s gold bars on your epaulets and flying a Piper or a Stinson than you would wearing anything and flying a Storch with no markings.

“You could say you were a liaison pilot with the Fourteenth Constabulary Regiment in Fritzlar, flying from there to, say, Wetzlar, and got lost and then had engine trouble and had to land.”

Cronley didn’t reply.

After a moment, Wallace said, “Please feel free to comment on my worst-case scenario.”

“You mean I can ask why it didn’t mention Mrs. Likharev and the boys? I thought they were the sole reason for this exercise. Where are they in your scenario when the Russians are aiming their PP-whatevers at me?”

“You insolent sonofabitch, you!” Wallace flared, and immediately added: “Sorry. You pushed me over the edge.”

Cronley didn’t reply.

“Okay, smart-ass. Let’s hear your scenario. Your best-case scenario,” Wallace said.

“Okay. We—Ostrowski, Schröder, me, both Storchs, and a couple of ASA radio guys—are in a hangar in Fritzlar. If they don’t have a hangar, we’ll build one like the one we built at Kloster Grünau, out

of tents. We’re hiding the Storchs is the idea.

“We hear from Seven-K, who tells us at which of the possible pickup points she and the Likharevs will be and when. We tell her, ‘Okay.’

“Ostrowski and I get in one Storch, Schröder in the other. We fly across the border, pick up Mrs. Likharev and the boys and bring them back to Fritzlar. I haven’t quite figured out how to get them from Fritzlar to Rhine-Main yet. Maybe in that C-45 you borrowed from the Air Force.”

“And where in your best-case scenario are the Russians with the PPShs in my worst-case scenario?” Wallace asked, softly but sarcastically.

“We are going to be in and out so fast that unless they’re following Seven-K down those remote roads, the Russians probably won’t even know we were there.”

“Isn’t that wishful thinking?” Wallace asked.

“What was it Patton said, ‘Do not take counsel of your fears’?”

“He also said,” Oberst Mannberg interjected, “‘In war, nothing is impossible provided you use audacity.’”

“Now that we understand the military philosophy behind this operation,” Wallace snapped, “let’s talk specifics. Starting with why the Storchs?”

“It’s a much better airplane than either the L-4 or the L-5.”