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“Yes, sir.”

“Let me confess that I am being political,” Cranz said. “I think we would all agree that the only officer who will do something useful with them is General Galland. Well, perhaps Canaris can find something useful in them. The Reichsmarschall gets a set because he would be uncomfortable if the Führer asks him about this airplane and he knew little or nothing about it. And the Reichsführer gets a set because I think when the Führer orders the destruction of this aircraft, he is going to turn again to the SS. If the SS could so successfully liberate Il Duce . . .

“If that is the case, the Reichsführer will lay that responsibility on me. When that happens—and I confidently predict it will—I am, we are, going to be ready. We will have plans prepared to destroy all three of this aircraft, on the ground or in the air.

“Our assistant attaché for air is obviously the best-qualified person to do this. The task is herewith assigned to him. Sturmbannführer . . . excuse me, Deputy Commercial Counselor Raschner will lend his talents to the operation, which I of course will supervise.

“Has anyone any comments?”

No one had.

IX

[ONE]

Office of the Assistant Military Attaché for Air

The Embassy of the German Reich

Avenida Córdoba

Buenos Aires, Argentina

1130 24 September 1943

Commercial Attaché Karl Cranz pushed open the door to Assistant Military Attaché for Air Major Hans-Peter von Wachtstein’s office without knocking.

He found Kapitän Dieter von und zu Aschenburg sitting on a small couch and holding a cup of coffee. Von Wachtstein was sitting at his desk, his feet resting on an open lower desk drawer.

“Aschenburg, Untersturmführer Schneider tells me you have one of the diplomatic pouches,” he accused without any preliminaries.

“I did have one of them,” von und zu Aschenburg said evenly. “Actually, I had all of them. I gave all but one to your untersturmführer.”

“You can give it to me,” Cranz said. “Right now.”

“I can’t do that. Ambassador von Lutzenberger has it.”

“The ambassador has it?” Cranz asked dubiously.

“Would you like to see the acknowledgment of receipt he signed?”

Cranz nodded.

Von und zu Aschenburg produced a small printed form and showed it to him.

Cranz examined it carefully. He then said, “The standard procedure here is that SS-Untersturmführer Schneider takes possession of all diplomatic pouches at the airport.”

“I’m just a simple servant of the state, Herr Cranz,” von und zu Aschenburg said on the edge of sarcasm. “When an obersturmbannführer wearing the cuff band of the Leibstandarte Adolf Hitler comes into my cockpit at Tempelhof, takes one of the pouches—there were a half-dozen—and tells me that this one is from Reichsführer-SS Himmler and that I am to give it personally to Ambassador von Lutzenberger—and to no one else—I try very hard to do just that. I didn’t think I needed give your untersturmführer an explanation. I just told him not to worry, I had it.”

As if a switch had been thrown, Cranz’s arrogant annoyance was suddenly replaced with smiling charm.

He handed the receipt back to von und zu Aschenburg with a smile.

“I’m glad you didn’t give an explanation invoking the Reichsführer to Schneider. He probably would have pissed his pants.” He smiled again, then went on, “I didn’t mean to jump on you, Aschenburg. But we have been expecting that pouch from Reichsführer-SS Himmler, and when it wasn’t among the others . . . Well, you understand.”

“Not a problem,” von und zu Aschenburg said. “I understand.”

“Nevertheless, I apologize.”