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“Whose blood?”

“Juan Martín de Pueyrredón’s. It seems he’s my great-great-grandfather. He ran the English out of Buenos Aires in 1806 using gauchos from his estancia as cavalry. Big hero down here. Think Nathan Bedford Forrest.

“I didn’t know that then. All I knew was that my father was emotional about our bloodline and trying to be a nice guy. I said something like, ‘Thanks but unless you know where I can borrow an airplane to look for this Spanish ship . . .’

“To which he replied, ‘There’s half a dozen Piper Cubs and a Staggerwing Beechcraft at Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo. Or I can come up with something else.’

“He then told me the estancia was one of the family’s little ranches, eighty-four thousand two hundred and five hectares. A hectare is two point five acres.”

Jimmy whistled.

“He said the Cubs were useful to keep track of the cattle. The Staggerwing Beechcraft he’d bought to fly back and forth between Santo Tomé and Buenos Aires when he was commanding the Húsares de Pueyrredón Cavalry Regiment. He had a pilot, Gonzalo Delgano—”

“The SAA pilot?”

“The SAA chief pilot. My father told me I could use the Staggerwing to find the Reine de la Mer, the Spanish ship supplying German subs, if I gave my word of honor as an officer and gentleman that I’d leave Argentina immediately after I blew it up. I didn’t think the Argentines were going to like a Yankee blowing up a ship in their waters and would put me in jail if they didn’t shoot me. I agreed to his terms.

“So that’s what happened. Tony and I found the Reine de la Mer. An American sub sneaked into the River Plate. Tony and I lit up the Reine de la Mer with flares from the Staggerwing and the sub put two torpedoes into her. A spectacular sight that Tony and I watched swimming around in the water into which I had dumped the Staggerwing after the machine guns on the Reine de la Mer had knocked out the engine.”

“You got shot down?”

Frade nodded.

“Enrico picked us up in a speedboat. We hid in Buenos Aires for two days, then took the Panagra Flying Clipper to Miami. My father saw us off. He said”—Frade’s voice started to break—“that he loved me and was proud of me and that we would see each other after the war.”

“And?”

“And that was the last time I ever saw him.”

Clete met Jimmy’s eyes, cleared his throat, and went on: “Then my education in this business really began. You may find this hard to believe, but at that point in my life, I was as innocent and naïve as you are now.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“In Miami, I called Colonel Graham—”

“Who?”

“Colonel A. J. Graham, USMCR, OSS deputy director for Western Hemisphere Operations. The guy who I met in Hollywood and sent me to Buenos Aires. I was going to tell him Tony and I were in Miami and why. He said he already knew. Then he told me to go to New Orleans, to the Old Man’s house, and take Tony with me. We were not only not to go home, we weren’t even allowed to call home.

“Two days later, he showed up at the Old Man’s house and announced the President was very pleased—”

“Roosevelt?”

Frade nodded.

“As proof thereof, I was now a captain, and Tony a first lieutenant. As soon as the paperwork caught up, I would get the Navy Cross and Tony the Silver Star.

“For a few wonderful seconds I saw a bright future. I’d go to Pensacola for the rest of the war and very, very carefully teach young men to fly. After the war, I’d get out of the Corps, fly to BA, marry Dorotea, and we’d spend the rest of our lives in a vine-covered cottage by the side of a road somewhere.

“Graham said, ‘We now need to talk about you going back to Buenos Aires.’

“I replied, ‘If I go back, two things will happen. Right after I shoot Commander Asshole, the Argentines will put me in jail or in front of a firing squad or both.’

“He said, ‘You’re replacing Commander Asshole as the naval attaché. You will have diplomatic immunity and can’t be arrested for anything. Ditto for Pelosi—he’s now an assistant military attaché.’

“‘You don’t understand, Colonel, sir,’ I said. ‘The Argentines know I used my father’s Staggerwing to light up the Reine de la Mer. They won’t accept me as naval attaché.’

“Graham shook his head. ‘The only way they could turn you down would be by accusing you of being involved in that. How could you possibly light up a ship the Argentine Foreign Ministry insists has never been in neutral Argentine waters?’