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And I don’t think I’m supposed to call him “sir.”

Oh, what the hell! He was a colonel and I’m a captain who two days ago was a second lieutenant.

Cronley went on: “Schneider was at Philipps University in Marburg an der Lahn with von Dattenberg. And with von Wachtstein, too, come to think of it.”

“That’s correct,” Mannberg said.

“When we got to the U-234, von Dattenberg told Schneider the war was over, and surrender therefore honorable. He just about had him convinced when SS-Oberführer Horst Lang appeared. He pulled a pistol from his pocket and was shot.”

“Von Dattenberg shot him?” General Gehlen asked. “Or Schneider?”

“I shot him,” Cronley said.

He saw Tiny’s eyebrows go up at that, and realized he had left that out when he’d told Tiny and Hessinger what had happened.

“Wounded or killed?” Gehlen asked.

“Killed. I had a Thompson.”

“I’m sorry that was necessary,” Gehlen said.

“I thought it was necessary,” Jimmy said a bit defensively. “There were other SS types, armed with Schmeissers, standing with him. I couldn’t take the risk that things would get out of control.”

“I’m sure it was, Captain Cronley,” Gehlen said. “I regret the death of that swine only because there’s a good deal he could have told us. Is Colonel Mattingly aware of this?”

“I didn’t have the chance to tell Colonel Mattingly. But Colonel Frade knows about it.”

“Well, if there is anything to be learned from the rest of them—either the SS swine or the crew of U-234—Oberst Frade will learn it,” Gehlen said with certainty.

Clete was just complimented by Gehlen, one of the best intelligence officers in the world. I’m sorry he didn’t get to hear that.

“Well, that leaves U-977,” Mannberg said. “Did you get anything on her at all?”

“Von Dattenberg and Schneider seemed to agree there are only two credible scenarios,” Cronley said. “Worst: that, despite what we thought—that she was headed for Argentina or Japan—U-977 either went to Russia directly from Norway, or met a Russian ship on the high seas. Best scenario: that she was sunk while trying to get through the English Channel, or shortly after entering the Atlantic Ocean.”

Gehlen nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve heard nothing—nothing at all—about either scenario, or about U-977 itself from our people in Moscow. That’s not surprising, and I will of course order them to keep trying. But I think we are going to have to presume the Soviets now have the uranium oxide loaded onto U-977.”

He exhaled in disappointment or

resignation or both.

“Well, we tried,” Gehlen went on. “And, largely due to your efforts, Captain Cronley, we did better than I expected we would.”

Is Gehlen soft-soaping me, or does he mean that?

Gehlen looked at Tiny. “Would you agree, Dunwiddie, that we should now turn to what has happened here?”

“Yes, sir.”

Gehlen met Cronley’s eyes. “Two nights ago, Dunwiddie’s diligent troops apprehended a man as he attempted to pass outward through the outer barbed wire. He was found to be in possession of a nearly complete roster of my people here in Kloster Grünau, a nearly complete roster of those who have been moved to Argentina, and, finally, an equally nearly complete roster of my people we hope have made it out of the Russian Zone but have not been located yet.”

“Jesus!” Cronley exclaimed. “Who was he?”

“There seems little question that he is an NKGB agent,” Mannberg said.

Dumb question!

Who else would it be? The German census bureau?