The Honor of Spies

"There's a set of straight razors in there, and a mug of shaving soap," she announced. "All dried out, of course, but I put water in it. That might make it usable. Who knows?"

Clete didn't reply.

"It looks as if they expected to come back," Dorotea said.

"Yeah."

"I wonder what's in here?" Dorotea said, pulled open a door, and gasped. "Oh, God! Clete, look at this!"

He went to the door and looked in.

There was a crib, and infant's toys, and a table--he had no idea what they called it--where an infant could be washed and dried and have diapers changed. And shelves, with stacks of folded cotton diapers and a large can of Johnson's baby powder.

"Jesus Christ!" he said, almost under his breath.

"I wondered what she was talking about," Dorotea said.

"What who was talking about?"

"Mother Superior, when she said you were really coming home. That this house has really been expecting you, is prepared for you."

He looked at her but said nothing.

"She should have said for us," Dorotea said. "For us and our baby."

She saw the look on his face.

"I want to have our baby here, darling. I want to wash him in there, where your mother washed you, and change his nappy with your nappies."

He tried to ask, "How can you be sure the baby's a him?"

But only three words came out before he lost his voice, and his chest heaved, and he realized he was crying.

Dorotea went to him, held him against her breast, and stroked his hair.

[FOUR]

Office of the Deputy Director for Western

Hemisphere Operations

Office of Strategic Services

National Institutes of Health Building

Washington, D.C.

0720 15 August 1943

A second lieutenant of the U.S. Army Signal Corps was sitting in one of the chairs in the outer office when Colonel A. F. Graham, uncommonly in uniform, came to work--as usual, before his secretary had gotten there.

Lieutenant Leonard Fischer stood and more or less came to attention. He was holding a sturdy leather briefcase. Graham saw that he was attached to the briefcase with a handcuff and chain, and that one of the lower pockets of his uniform blouse sagged--as if, for example, it held a Colt Model 1911A1 .45 ACP pistol.

"Good morning, Fischer," Graham said as he waved the young officer ahead of him into his office. "Dare I hope we have heard from Gaucholand?"

"Yes, sir," Fischer said, and held up the briefcase.

"And?"

"That Marine has landed, sir, and the situation is well in hand."

Graham smiled at him, waved him into a chair, and waited for him to detach the briefcase and unlock it. He took from it a manila envelope, stamped TOP SECRET in several places in large red letters, then got up and walked to Graham's desk and handed it to him.

"I would offer you a cup of coffee, Len, but I don't think there is any."

"Not a problem, sir."

Graham tore open the envelope, took two sheets of paper from it, and started to read from them.

From previous messages, Graham knew that BIS was Gonzalo Delgano, the Bureau of Interior Security man assigned to watch Frade and South American Airways; that Galahad (the courageous knight on the white horse) was Major von Wachtstein; that JohnPaul was Kapitan zur See Boltitz (after naval hero John Paul Jones); and that Tio Hank was Frade's Uncle Humberto Duarte, managing director of the Banco de Inglaterra y Argentina.

If Tio Hank's going to confirm Grape history--that Frogger is a South African winegrower--that means Frade probably told him what's going on. I don't know if that was smart or not.

But it's his call. I am sitting behind a desk in Washington.

Why do I think Cletus had more than a little grape when he wrote this? Because that's the code name he gave Colonel Frogger?

The question was answered in the next several paragraphs.

Graham knew the Tourists were the Froggers, Tio Juan was Juan Domingo Peron, Sidekick was Suboficial Mayor Rodriguez, and Beermug was Staff Sergeant Stein.

How in hell will he keep what must have been a hell of a firefight and six dead Germans from coming out?

Jedgar, from J. Edgar Hoover, was el Coronel Martin of the BIS.

Christ, they tried to kill him again!

And he's right. Allen will be interested in the Argentine agricultural attache in Berlin.

Unless he already knows him. Which is likely.