The Honor of Spies

"Possible, even probably," Rawson agreed. "But so what? Bobby, let's go. The car should be at the door by now."

[FOUR]

Aeropuerto Coronel Jorge G. Frade

Moron, Buenos Aires Province, Argentina

1120 16 October 1943

When the president of the Argentine Republic stepped out of the official presidential limousine in front of the passenger terminal, a familiar face was there to greet him.

"Well, Father Kurt," El Presidente said. "What an unexpected pleasure! Whatever are you doing here?"

"I would think I'm here for the same reason you are, Arturo."

"And what would that be?"

"To try to keep some smoldering embers in Mendoza from turning into a conflagration."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, of course."

"Lying to a priest--especially to the priest who is your confessor--is a sin, Arturo. I've told you that before."

Rawson didn't reply.

"I think I might be of some help, Arturo."

Rawson gestured toward the Lodestar sitting on the tarmac.

"Why don't we take a little ride, Father? And, on the way, perhaps you'll be good enough to tell me how you found out about this."

"I'd love to, Arturo, really I would. But that would violate a priestly confidence, and that, too, would be a sin. I'm sure you understand."

[FIVE]

Casa Montagna

Estancia Don Guillermo

Km 40.4, Provincial Route 60

Mendoza Province, Argentina

1210 16 October 1943

Don Cletus Frade opened his eyes and saw Mother Superior's face very close to his.

"Try not to move," she said. "This will sting a little."

He tried to raise his head.

"Hold him," Mother Superior ordered.

A massive hand pushed his head back against the floor.

He saw Mother Superior's hands approaching his head. One hand held a pad of surgical gauze, the other a curved needle laced with a black thread.

He felt his forehead being mopped, then saw the needle getting close.

"Jesus H. Christ!" he exclaimed as the needle penetrated the skin on his fo rehead.

"Is he all right?" Dona Dorotea asked.

"I told you bringing him in here would be a mistake," Mother Superior replied.

The needle penetrated his skin again.

"What the hell happened?" Clete asked.

Dorotea groaned in pain and took the Lord's name in vain.

Clete tried to rise. The massive hand again pushed him back against the floor.

That has to be the hand of Sister Suboficial Mayor.

What the hell is going on?

The needle struck again.

"That should hold it for the time being," Mother Superior said. "Stay there until I say you can get up." She added, "Don't let him move."

"Yes, Mother Superior," Sister Suboficial Mayor said.

"Oh, God!" Dorotea groaned loudly.

"Push," Mother Superior said. "I can see the head."

Clete tried and failed to raise his head.

"Dorotea? Are you all right, baby?"

"No, goddamn it, I'm not. . . . Oh, God!"

"Stop blaspheming and push, Dorotea," Mother Superior said.

"Well, that's a shame," Mother Superior said.

"What's a shame?" Clete asked in horror from the floor.

"I was sort of hoping for a future postulant for the Order of the Little Sisters of Santa Maria del Pilar. But what we have here is what looks like a healthy male."

"May I let him up, Mother Superior?" Sister Suboficial Mayor asked.

"Give me a minute to clean up the baby," Mother Superior said.

[SIX]

Casa Montagna

Estancia Don Guillermo

Km 40.4, Provincial Route 60

Mendoza Province, Argentina

1240 16 October 1943

Subinspector Estanislao Nowicki found Don Cletus Frade and Enrico Rodriguez in the bar. Frade was holding a brandy snifter in his hand. There was a bandage on his head, and his shirt was bloody. Nowicki looked at Enrico for an explanation and Enrico shook his head: Don't ask.

Frade looked at Nowicki.

"Go ahead, ask," Clete said.

"What happened?"

"Ten minutes ago, my wife was delivered of a healthy baby boy."

"That's wonderful, Don Cletus!"

"I was at the time on the floor. Estanislao, never be present when your wife is having a baby."

"You passed out," Nowicki said. "That happened to me."

"I can't tell you how happy I am to hear that," Clete said. "Maybe that will wipe the smirk off Enrico's face. Enrico doesn't have any children."

"Having a baby, Enrico," Nowicki said, "is something a woman should do alone. Or at least with other women. Or with a doctor. But not with her husband anywhere around. When my wife had her first child, she swore at me with words I didn't even know she knew."

"So what's up, Estanislao?" Clete asked.

"You heard that that Nazi bastard Schmidt and ten 10th Mountain Regiment trucks are moving toward General Alvear?"

Frade nodded. "Segundo Comandante Garcia told me."