Page 152

“Then how is it that the Russians ‘don’t know’ about the Manhattan Project, the atomic bomb?” Frade said.

“There’s a difference between not having been told about it and not knowing about it,” Dulles said. “Of course they know about it. The question then becomes who told them about it, and how much they have been told. Or how successful their espionage has been . . .

“Since the Soviets don’t officially know about it, and inasmuch as they are our trustworthy ally, and allies are not supposed to spy on one another, J. Edgar Hoover is having a hell of a time dealing with Russian spies. He’s not even supposed to be looking for them. Counterintelligence is intended to keep the Germans and the Japanese from learning about it.”

“But the Germans know about it?”

“In two ways,” Dulles said. “Generally, because it’s no secret in scientific circles that everyone is working to develop a nuclear bomb; and also, with some specificity, because Gehlen’s agents in the Kremlin have access to the material the Soviet spies are sending. And I think we have to presume that the Germans are sharing at least some of their knowledge about the Manhattan Project with the Japanese.”

“My God!”

“So after a good deal of thought, Colonel Graham and I decided we could not refuse what Gehlen and Canaris were offering, and also that we could not take the proposition to Colonel Donovan. That we would have to conceal the operation from him.”

“Which is on its face disloyalty and more than likely constitutes dealing with the enemy,” Graham said. “Which is one of the reasons I thought it would be best to keep you in the dark.

“And there is one other problem we avoid by not bringing Donovan and the President into this: Treasury Secretary Morgenthau. I would judge that he hates the Nazis and Hitler more than anyone else in the Cabinet. He’s Jewish and he knows what the Germans have been doing to the Jews. Neither Mr. Dulles nor I can envision any circumstance in which Morgenthau would countenance our providing sanctuary in Argentina to any Nazis, no matter what benefits might accrue to the United States by so doing. We are both agreed that if this arrangement came to Morgenthau’s attention and Roosevelt didn’t immediately bring it to a halt, Morgenthau would go to the press with it.”

There was a moment’s silence.

“What are you thinking, Clete?” Colonel Graham asked.

That’s the first time he called me anything but “Frade” or “Major Frade.”

What the hell!

Clete shrugged, then said, “You asked, Colonel. What was running through my mind was that this operation gives a whole new meaning to the term ‘insubordination.’ ”

“What I told myself when I considered this dilemma,” Graham responded, “was that I have sworn an oath to defend the United States against all enemies foreign and domestic. Vice President Wallace, Morgenthau, and, for that matter, Eleanor Roosevelt, whose good intentions I don’t question for a second, are in a position to cause the United States great harm. I am duty bound to keep them from doing it while I am engaged in something I really believe will help my country—and probably save a hell of a lot of lives in the process.”

“When I took that oath,” Frade said, “there was a phrase about obeying the orders of the officers appointed over me.”

“Which is what you’re doing,” Graham said. “If this thing blows up in our face—as it very well may—Mr. Dulles and I are prepared to say that you knew nothing of what you just heard. I don’t think it will do any good, but we’ll do it.”

Frade grunted, and there was another silence. Then he asked: “Are you going to tell me how I’m supposed to get these Nazis off the plane in Buenos Aires?”

“Let’s start with the first two,” Graham said. “Alois Strübel is an obersturmbannführer—a major—in the SS. The Waffen-SS, but the SS. He and his sergeant major, Hauptscharführer Otto Niedermeyer, fell for the Fatherland on the Eastern Front about two weeks ago. They were buried with military honors.”

Frade’s eyebrows rose, but he said nothing.

“Frau Strübel and their two children were apparently killed—their bodies were never found—in a bombing raid on Dresden on September 11. Frau Niedermeyer and their son were killed in a raid on Frankfurt an der Oder two days later, and buried in a mass grave the next day.

“When all these people arrive in Lisbon, which probably will be the day after tomorrow, the women will be wearing the regalia prescribed for the Little Sisters of the Poor—”

“They’ll be dressed as nuns?” Clete said.

Graham smiled and nodded, and went on: “—which noble sisterhood roams the streets of Germany picking up children orphaned by the bombing. Through the largesse of chapter houses in Brazil, Paraguay, and Argentina, these children are taken from the war zone to those countries, where, it is to be hoped, they will be adopted by good Catholic families, but failing that, cared for in orphanages main

tained by the Little Sisters of the Poor.

“There are already large numbers of these orphans in Lisbon awaiting transport, which until now, of course, had to be by ship.”

“And that problem of moving people between South America and Europe,” Dulles offered, “also affected the Vatican. As I’m sure you know, Cletus, the Vatican is sovereign; in other words, it is a nation according to international law. In every country there is a Papal Nuncio, a high-ranking clergyman who speaks for the Pope.

“He is in fact the ambassador, and the residence of the Papal Nuncio for all practical purposes is the embassy of the Vatican. And it is, of course, staffed as an embassy is staffed. And the Vatican has to move people—not only their ‘diplomats’ but also members of their various religious congregations—back and forth between Rome and South America.

“Somehow, the Vatican heard that South American Airways was going to establish scheduled service between Lisbon and Buenos Aires, with a stop in Belém . . .”

“I wonder who told them that?” Clete asked innocently.