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Gehlen smiled and chuckled.

“. . . we can’t move Orlovsky in with the other immigrants. We’re going to have to get him to a safe house, provide him with bodyguards, et cetera, plus give him a large amount of cash to convince him that once he has given us the names, we won’t betray him. That’s going to be a lot of money.”

“And getting his family out of Russia will cost a great deal of money,” Gehlen said. “U.S. dollars open many doors in Moscow. Fifty thousand comes to mind. Is that going to pose a problem?”

Frade nodded. “For several reasons. The accounts of the former OSS are just about empty. Even if they weren’t, I doubt I could ask for two hundred thousand dollars without offering a good reason. And while I have access to money in Argentina . . .”

“You mean your own money, right?” Cronley said.

“. . . and have been using my own money to fund operations there—placing a child-like faith in Admiral Souers’s promise I’ll get it back when the Central Intelligence Directorate is up and running—I couldn’t take another two hundred thousand out of the Anglo-Argentine Bank for unspecified purposes without the wrong people asking the wrong questions. Yes, General, money is going to be a problem. We’re going to have to really think about that.”

“What about documentation for Orlovsky?” Gehlen said. “To get him into Argentina, and then for him to become as invisible as possible once he is?”

“I’m sure our mutual friend the Jesuit can arrange a Vatican passport and a libreta de enrolamiento, the national identity document, for him,” Frade said. “But that means he would have to be told what’s going on.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not for me,” Frade said, chuckling. “The wily Father Welner already knows all my secrets—well, almost all. But there are two things. The fewer people who know a secret, the longer it can be kept secret. Aside from Welner, I am only going to tell Major Ashton—my deputy, Major Maxwell Ashton the Third—and Master Sergeant Siggie Stein about any of this.”

“Niedermeyer speaks highly of both,” Gehlen said.

“And the only reason I’m going to tell them is that I think I may have to send Ashton over to deal with some people from the Pentagon who will be in Pullach and are very much aware they all outrank Cronley. If that becomes necessary, Stein will have to hold the fort in Argentina.”

“Niedermeyer will have to be told, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah, he will. I didn’t think about it, but sure. Otto will have to be brought in on this.”

Cronely put in, “You sound as if you think—”

“Not now, for God’s sake, Jimmy,” Frade shut him off, and then said, “I was wondering how the Vatican would react—maybe will react—when they find out they’ve issued a passport to an NKGB officer. Is that going to cause problems for you, sir?”

“Not if by the time they find out Orlovsky has seen the light and has put godless Communism behind him. But if he goes to Argentina, escapes his bodyguards, and heads for the nearest Russian embassy . . .”

“General, there’s no Russian embassy in Argentina. Just an NKGB outpost pretending to be a trade mission. General Martín . . . ?”

“The chief of the Argentine Bureau of Internal Security?” Gehlen asked.

Frade nodded.

“Martín keeps a close eye on the tradesmen. But I don’t want him to know about Orlovsky. He’d want to take him over. But that’s not a big problem. I can make sure that Orlovsky doesn’t get within a hundred miles of either him or the trade mission. The problem is the money.”

“Let me get this straight,” Jimmy said. “You sound—the both of you sound—as if you think I had a great idea and the only thing that’s standing in the way of doing it is a couple hundred thousand dollars.”

“So?” Frade asked. “You figured that out, did you, you clever fellow?”

“Yes, you can have it,” Cronley said.

“I can have what?” Frade said, and then, understanding, added, “Oh.”

“What you just figured out, you clever fellow.”

Frade was silent for a long moment, then snapped, “Your automatic mouth is about to get you in more goddamned trouble than you can handle. Do you even realize that?”

“Sorry,” Jimmy said. A moment later, he went on: “I’m really sorry. I just can’t handle being treated like I’m part of this one second, then I’m an idiot second lieutenant the next.”

“Well, you goddamned well better learn,” Frade said icily. And then he chuckled. “You better remember, too, that you’re an ‘idiot captain,’ Captain Cronley.”

Their eyes met for a long moment. “You sure you want to do this, Jimmy?”