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[FOUR]

“Trouble?” Allen Dulles asked Clete when they’d stopped near the nose gear of the Red Lodestar.

“I don’t know exactly. It’s damn sure out of left field. The president and the foreign minister—with how much input from Perón, I don’t know—want me to take a Connie into Germany, presumably Berlin, ostensibly to take a replacement diplomatic crew in, and bring the diplomats that are there back here. And to take supplies of food, medicine, et cetera with me.”

“Interesting,” Dulles said.

“I thought so,” Clete said. “And it’s just what we don’t need—another diversion.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

Frade shrugged. “I guess I’m going to take a Connie into Germany.”

“Is that wise?”

“It looks like I don’t have much of a choice,” Clete said. And then he had another thought, and said it aloud: “But, yeah, I do think it’s wise. Maybe I can meet Colonel Gehlen, since we’re agreed that getting him and his people out still is our priority.”

“I’d like to go with Clete,” von Wachtstein suddenly said.

Dulles and Frade looked at him in surprise.

Peter explained: “I’d like to see that my father’s body, presuming I can find it, is taken to Schloss Wachtstein and buried with my mother and my brothers.”

Dulles said: “Peter, I appreciate your feelings, but—”

“I’d like to go, too,” Boltitz put in. “I want to see if I can find out what happened to my father.”

“And I can appreciate that, too,” Dulles said, “but—”

“Perhaps I also could learn something about the U-boots we’re interested in,” Boltitz argued.

“I’m not sure that any of you going over there is a good idea,” Dulles announced. “And there is a simple solution to the problem. When I get to Washington, I’ll call David Bruce—he’s with Eisenhower, wherever that might be—and tell him to tell Ike to have SHAEF deny SAA permission to enter occupied Germany.”

Frade grunted, then looked past Dulles and saw Enrico Rodríguez coming toward them, and the women milling on the tarmac near the foot of the stairs.

“What did that sound mean?” Dulles challenged.

Frade turned to look at him and said, “That policy didn’t last long, did it?”

“Excuse me?”

“I seem to recall you telling me that since I was out on a limb, I was free to do what I think should be done.”

Dulles studied Frade for a long moment.

“Touché, Colonel Frade,” he said finally. “I also recall saying I would take responsibility for any action of yours. So, what I’ll do when I get to Washington is call David Bruce, tell him I’m sending you over there, and tell him to do what he can for you.”

“Thank you,” Frade said.

“One final comment, Clete,” Dulles said. “Please consider that when General Donovan, as he so often does, refers to you as ‘our loose cannon,’ he’s unfortunately often right.”

“Ouch!” Frade said.

Dulles put out his hand. Clete took it, then ordered, “Enrico, see that Mr. Dulles gets on his plane.”

“Sí, Don Cletus.”

Dulles was barely out of earshot when von Wachtstein asked, “Was that a polite way of making it easier for you to tell Karl and me that we cannot go to Germany?”