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The voice of an SAA pilot who had been taking on-the-job training as a flight engineer came over Frade’s earphones: “Captain, they’re bringing a ladder.”

“Thank you,” Frade said. “Keep me posted.”

He turned to Delgano. “You get off first, Gonzo, that guy next, and you give the impression you’re the pilot and he’s the number two. I’ll get off later.”

Delgano made a thumbs-up gesture, unfastened his harness, got out of the copilot’s seat, and walked into the passenger compartment.

Where the hell is Humberto? Frade wondered as he carefully looked out a side window.

More important, where the hell is General Rawson?

If Humberto couldn’t get him to come out here, this whole thing is going to blow up in my face!

Frade, ten minutes later, looked out the side window again.

The last time he had looked, Peter von Wachtstein had been one of six or eight photographers taking pictures of the Constellation. Now he was alone.

Where the hell are the others?

What’s going on?

Then he saw that the photographers were backing toward the airplane, taking pictures of General Rawson, Humberto Duarte, Father Welner, and Claudia de Carzino-Cormano. Their party had just come out of the building and was walking toward the Constellation.

The president of the Argentine nation was smiling broadly.

And with the exception of my beloved father-in-law, so is everybody else out there.

“Captain,” Delgano’s voice came over the headset. “The ladder they brought is a meter too short.”

“Shit! Now what?”

“They sent for a truck. They’re going to put the ladder in the bed of the truck.”

Frade tried to take a look from the cockpit window. The only thing he could see was a Chevrolet pickup truck approaching the aircraft. He couldn’t see the door to the passenger compartment.

He quickly unstrapped himself, went into the passenger compartment, and looked out a window there. The pickup truck was backing up toward the airplane. In it, supported by four men, was a stepladder—a very long one. Then he no longer could see the truck.

He looked down the aisle. Delgano was standing in the door, facing inward, one leg gingerly extended downward out the door.

Then, very slowly, he disappeared.

Clete could see nothing out the window.

Then the SAA pilot/flight-engineer-in-training backed into the door and warily reached for the ladder with his leg.

“Change of plans!” Clete announced. “All SAA pilots go down the ladder!”

The five remaining SAA pilots formed a line by the door.

Out the window, Clete could see that Delgano had made it safely to the bed of the pickup, from which he jumped to the ground. Then the first SAA pilot came into view.

God, don’t let any of them take a dive off that damn ladder with all those cameras trained on them!

Finally, everybody had gone down the ladder, jumped off the truck, and had lined up behind Gonzo and Pilot Number One. They all adjusted their uniforms.

Delgano issued a command. Everybody marched six steps forward. Delgano issued another command and everyone halted.

They were now facing General Rawson, his entourage, Claudia de Carzino-Cormano, Father Welner, and Humberto Duarte.