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“Mannberg and myself,” Gehlen said, more than a little condescendingly.

Cronley felt a wave of anger rise. He recognized it and waited until he felt he had it under control before he replied.

“General, keeping in mind that three days ago I was a second lieutenant, you’re going to have to have a little patience when I ask what you and Oberst Mannberg, with your far greater experience, consider to be dumb questions.”

“The general meant no disrespect, Hauptman Cronley,” Mannberg said.

“Actually, quite the opposite, Hauptman Cronley,” Gehlen said. “My problem with you is that I’ve seen—and I mean seen here, not what you did in Argentina, but that also obviously applies—what a competent intelligence officer you are, and I sometimes forget there probably are . . . how do I say this? . . . certain gaps in your professional experience.”

“My professional experience can be written inside a matchbook cover with a thick grease pencil,” Cronley said. “And the gaps in it make a hole somewhat larger than the Grand Canyon. And I think you both are fully aware of that.”

Mannberg laughed.

“Is something funny?” Cronley snapped.

“Yes,” Mannberg said. “That colorful expression of annoyance, I’m afraid, did not translate very well into German.”

“I was speaking German?” Cronley blurted.

So I didn’t have my temper firmly in hand.

“You sounded like a Strasbourger on his fourth liter of beer,” Mannberg said.

“That’s bad.”

“But you made your point,” Gehlen said, “and it was taken, Hauptman Cronley. I apologize for not understanding. You were—as you should have been—concerned that taking Schröder here might pose security problems. When I so quickly suggested I didn’t think it would be a problem, you wondered—as you should have—how quickly I had made that decision. I thought it should have been obvious to you. My mistake. One of the gaps in your experience is that you have had no experience in the East.”

By East he means Russia.

Why are these guys so reluctant to say Russia?

Gehlen met his eyes a long moment, then went on: “Let me tell you what it was like in the East when Schröder was flying me and Mannberg around at the front. It was understood that under no circumstances could we fall into the hands of the Red Army. Specifically, Schröder knew that when we took off, there was an explosive charge aboard the Storch that I would detonate, or he would, if it appeared there was any chance at all that we were going to go down behind the Red Army’s lines.

“Even after the flight, or flights, Schröder understood that it was unacceptable for him to be captured with knowledge of the location of any Abwehr Ost detachment or the like. He gave his word as an officer to die honorably by his own hand in that circumstance.”

“Jesus Christ!” Cronley said softly.

“When you brought him here, and he saw Mannberg and me, he naturally assumed the same s

ecurity protocol would be in place here. And I’m sure he knows the Red Army is looking for any former member of Abwehr Ost.

“Schröder knew the moment we saw and recognized one another that he would not be allowed to leave in possession of such intelligence. I had those facts, plus my knowledge that he was a courageous and trustworthy officer—as well as a very good pilot—in mind when I made what appeared to you to be a casual decision about whether he would be useful here.”

Gehlen let that sink in a moment, and after Cronley nodded, went on: “My mistake, Hauptman Cronley, was to forget about those gaps in your experience, and again, for that I apologize.”

“There’s no need to apologize, General,” Cronley said. “The problem as I see it is that I’m afraid we’ve only begun to learn how large those gaps, those many gaps, in my experience are.”

“And your decision about Schröder?” Gehlen asked.

“I suggest we take him inside, give him lunch, and welcome him to Kloster Grünau.”

Gehlen nodded, and then smiled.

“An expression Colonel Mattingly uses frequently seems appropriate here,” he said, and then quoted, “‘The true test of another man’s intelligence is to what degree he agrees with you.’”

“I’m flattered, sir,” Cronley said, and then raised his voice: “Corporal!”

The corporal appeared around the corner of the building a moment later, prodding Schröder ahead of him with the muzzle of his Thompson.