The Honor of Spies

Peter and I don't belong in this. We should be at the controls of fighter planes. Philosophical introspection is not needed in a cockpit. You shoot the other guy down, or he shoots you down. Very simple.

The mutual investigation lasted for thirty-five minutes. Frade was impressed with Boltitz's skill as an interrogator, and Frogger was nearly as good.

By comparison, Peter and I seem rank amateurs. Which, of course, we are.

"I pray to God that I am not wrong, Herr Kapitan zur See," Frogger said finally. "But I believe that you are who you say are, personally, and further that you are allied with us in what we have undertaken."

Boltitz gave Frogger his hand.

"Hey, what am I?" Peter asked.

"Claus vouched for you, Herr Major," Frogger said. "He said if it was impossible to keep you out of our enterprise, then I could trust you with my life."

And who the hell am I? Frade wondered. Like it or not, guys, I'm the guy you have to trust with your lives.

"Our immediate problem is my mother," Frogger said.

"How's that?" Welner asked.

"When I saw her yesterday, Father," Frogger said evenly, "and told her that I had come to see that she and my father cooperated with Major Frade in collecting information about Operation Phoenix and on that ransoming operation, she said I was a despicable traitor to Germany and to my family and my late brothers, and that she hoped I was going to burn in hell for breaking my vow of obedience to 'unser Fuhrer.' "

The priest shook his head.

"Perhaps I can reason with her, perhaps pray with her for God's guidance."

"I don't think that would be a solution to the problem, Father," Frogger said. "Especially if she suspects--and I'm afraid she's paranoid enough to do just that--what we plan to do to 'our leader.' "

[FOUR]

Casa Numero Cincuenta y Dos

Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo

Near Pila, Buenos Aires Province

Republic of Argentina

1205 14 August 1943

Frade knew there was something wrong the moment he walked Julius Caesar up to the verandah of the house.

Both Dorotea and El Jefe, who had been sitting on the verandah, stood up the moment they saw him, but neither smiled or waved.

They look like they're waiting for Daddy to give them a whipping, now that he's home from the office.

Or for the Grim Reaper.

The door opened and Staff Sergeant Sigfried Stein came onto the verandah. He didn't look particularly happy either, and when he saw Frade, his look changed to very glum.

What the hell has happened?

There were seventy-odd "casas," each numbered, scattered around the three hundred forty square miles of Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo. The use of the Spanish word for "house" was somewhat misleading. There was always more than just a house. Each so-called casa had stables and barns and all the other facilities required to operate what were in effect the seventy-odd farming subdivisions of the estancia. And on each casa there was always more than one house; often there were four or more.

Some of them were permanently occupied by the capataz--supervisor of the surrounding area--and, of course, his family and the peones who worked its land. And some of them were used only where there was a good deal of work to be done in the area, and the workers were too far from their casas or the village near the big house to, so to speak, commute.

House Number 52 was one of the medium-size houses. Built within a double stand of poplars, the casa itself had a verandah on three sides. On either side there were two smaller houses. Inside the larger house there was a great room, a dining room, an office, a kitchen, and two bedrooms. It had a wood-fired par- rilla and a dome-shaped oven. One building housed a MAN diesel generator that powered the lights, the water pumps, the freezers, and the refrigerators. El Patron had taken good care of his workers.

It was reasonably comfortable, secure, and far from prying eyes.

And thus the best place that Enrico and El Jefe could think of to hide the Froggers after the shooting at Casa Chica.

They'd agreed: When Don Cletus returns from the United States, he will know what to do.