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General Greene’s face whitened and he glared at Mattingly for a long moment before returning the salute.

“Good morning, General,” Mattingly said.

General Greene did not immediately reply.

“General,” the major began, “he just walked in—”

Mattingly turned to him. “That will be all, thank you, Major. I’m afraid you’re not cleared for the matter the general and I will be discussing.”

The major looked to General Greene for guidance. After a moment, Greene waved his hand, telling him to leave.

“Please close the door tightly, Major,” Mattingly ordered.

When the door was closed, General Greene said, “You better have a good explanation for this, you arrogant sonofabitch!”

“With the general’s permission, I have several documents, classified Top Secret–Presidential, I would like the general to peruse.”

After a moment, still white-faced and tight-lipped, General Greene made another hand gesture—Let’s see them.

Mattingly opened his briefcase, took from it a thin sheath of papers and photographs, and laid them before General Greene.

On top was an eight-by-ten-inch glossy photograph of Captain James D. Cronley Jr. with, on his right, the President of the United States and, on his left, Rear Admiral Sidney William Souers. To their left and right were James D. Cronley Sr., Major General William J. Donovan, and Colonel Robert Mattingly.

“What am I looking at?” General Greene asked, more than a little unpleasant

ly.

“Forgive me, sir, but I must have your confirmation of your understanding that this material is classified Top Secret–Presidential.”

“I’m not deaf, Mattingly,” Greene snapped. “I heard you the first time.”

“That photograph was taken the day before yesterday, General, immediately after President Truman promoted Captain Cronley to that grade and awarded him the Distinguished Service Medal.”

“Who the hell is he?”

“He’s the officer I placed in charge of the Twenty-third Detachment’s—”

“Twenty-third Detachment?” Greene interrupted. “We don’t have a Twenty-third Detachment!”

“I formed it, sir, under the Twenty-seventh, to run the operation at Kloster Grünau, sir, to further shield it.”

Green stared at him a long moment. “Tell me more about this Captain Cronley.”

“I think you’re asking if he’s the officer who had the misunderstanding with Colonel Schumann at Kloster Grünau. Yes, sir, he is.”

“‘Misunderstanding’? You call blowing the engine out of Tony Schumann’s car with .50 caliber machine gun fire a misunderstanding? Jesus, Mattingly!”

“Sir, that was regrettable. Sir, I have been authorized to make you privy to some of the details of Operation Ost. With the caveat that you are not to share anything I tell you with anyone absent my express permission in each instance. May I have your assurance, General, that you understand?”

Greene glared at him again, but finally said, “You have my assurance, Colonel.”

“Thank you, sir. Sir, the use of deadly force has been authorized if necessary to preserve the security of Operation Ost.”

“You’re telling me that this operation of yours is so important that that young officer could have killed Colonel Schumann to keep him from finding out about it?”

“Yes, sir. That is indeed the case. Colonel Schumann or anyone else posing a threat to the operation. Or anyone who might threaten to compromise the security thereof.”

“Jesus Christ!” Greene said, looking past Mattingly and shaking his head slowly.