Death and Honor

[FIVE]

Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo Near Pila Buenos Aires Province, Argentina 1810 22 July 1943

It was admittedly a little dark when Frade lined up the Piper Cub to land on the estancia runway, but not as dark as Doña Dorotea Mallín de Frade apparently thought it was. There were half a dozen vehicles lined up on the sides of the runway, their headlights illuminating the runway boundaries.

I could have made it in here no problem, but it’s really nice to know that Dorotea is really trying to take care of me.

As he taxied up to the hangar, he saw that Schultz’s Model A pickup was part of the improvised landing light system, and that Enrico was at the wheel of the Buick convertible and that Dorotea was at the wheel of the Horch.

“Thanks, baby,” he said as he embraced his wife.

“First, did Len get away all right?” she asked.

“At this moment, he is in the Copacabana Palace Hotel in Rio sipping champagne and ogling the near-naked ladies on the beach.”

“I’m serious,” she said, not amused. “What about the film?”

"So am I. I should have added, he has an armed guard, courtesy of the U.S. Army Air Forces, who will stay with him until he—and the film—takes off in the Pan American clipper. And second?”

“Why did you have to fly down here in the dark?”

“Well, for one thing—not that I’m not grateful for the landing lights—it wasn’t dark.”

“You were taking an unnecessary chance. The station wagon’s at the house; you should have driven.”

“I had two things in mind. In addition to knowing when there wouldn’t be enough light to land here.”

“Which were?”

“My stomach told me to go home to get something to eat. I didn’t get to eat any lunch. And I needed to see that ugly gaucho.” He turned. “How goes it, El Jefe?”

Schultz, who of course was wearing his gaucho costume, smiled at him.

“If you weren’t such a bloody ass,” Dorotea said, “the proper response would have been, ‘I couldn’t wait to be with my beloved wife.’ ”

Clete smiled. “That, too, of course.”

Enrico walked up.

“Everything okay at Casa Chica, Enrico?”

“It is under control, Don Cletus.”

“Then it’s time for my supper,” Clete said. “A bife de chorizo, I think, with a glass—perhaps a bottle—of merlot. And during supper, Jefe, I will dictate a message to Graham which I want you to get out an hour ago.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Dorotea said.

“Excuse me?”

“After consulting with Oscar and Enrico, I’ve made some changes in our operation. ”

Now what?

“Made some changes in our operation”?

“Oh, really? Such as?”

“It will save time if I show you,” she said, “rather than trying to explain.”

When they got to the big house, Dorotea led everybody to what had been El Coronel Frade’s study. Schultz walked quickly ahead of them and unlocked the heavy door.

Where the hell did Schultz get a key? Enrico’s got one, but I never gave Schultz one.

Which means Dorotea did.

What the hell is going on?

The answer to that became apparent the moment the lights were switched on in the study. Something had changed. It still was lined with books and framed photos, but the furniture had been rearranged and a sturdy table added. The new table sat close to one wall. On it was a Collins transceiver and the SIGABA encryption device.

Jesus H. Christ! What’s that doing in here?

“Is someone going to tell me what’s going on here? Maybe you, Jefe?”

“Well, Dorotea and Enrico and I talked things over,” Schultz said. “And decided that putting the equipment in here made more sense than having it out in the boonies.”

“For one thing, darling,” Dorotea said, “it’s rather obviously both a nuisance and time-consuming for the team to have to run back and forth to Casa Veintidós every time you get a message, or want to send one.”

He nodded and waited for her to go on.

Schultz picked up their reasoning. “Enrico said your father thought the study—when he was setting up the revolution—was the safest place on the estancia to do things in the dark. . . .”

“Otherwise, Don Cletus,” Enrico chimed in, “El Coronel, may he be resting in peace in heaven with all the angels, would have gone onto the monte himself. He worked here.”

“And what if El Coronel Martín decides to raid the place?” Frade challenged.

“I rigged thermite grenades,” Schultz said. “We’d have more time to torch this stuff here than if it was in Casa Veintidós. I showed Enrico and Dorotea how to do that. There wasn’t time to teach anyone else, and anyway, Enrico’s still making up his mind about who else he wants to know about this.”

“You know how to set off the thermite grenades?” Frade asked his wife.

She nodded. “And I also know how to operate the SIGABA.”

“You know how that thing works?”

She nodded again. “Would you like me to demonstrate?”

“May I ask why I wasn’t asked whether I thought this was a good idea?”

“Well, for one thing, it’s obviously the thing to do,” Dorotea said. “And this was the time to do it. Carlos isn’t here—”

“Where is he?”

“He told me that Delgano wanted him at El Palomar to assist in teaching mechanics what he knows about the Lodestar,” she said.

What the hell is that all about?

Interest in South American Airways?

Or to get him out of here?

For what reason?

Dorotea went on, “We of course don’t know, darling, when Carlos will show up here again. But since he wasn’t here, he wasn’t able to see Oscar and Enrico moving the equipment into the house and setting up the antennae. And of course you and Delgano were flying back and forth to Brazil, so Delgano doesn’t know. For those reasons, darling, Oscar, Enrico, and I decided that this was the moment to do it. Did we do wrong?”

Frade exhaled audibly.

“No. The only thing you’ve done is embarrass me for not thinking of this myself.”

Dorotea, Enrico, and Oscar looked very pleased with themselves.

“Is it up and running?” Frade said.

“We got the first message right after you took off this morning,” Schultz said. He took a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to Frade.

URGENT

VIA ASA SPECIAL

TOP SECRET LINDBERGH

DUPLICATION FORBIDDEN

FROM AGGIE

TO TEX

GREAT INTEREST HERE IN FUNCTIONING OF YOUR NEW LEICA

IMMEDIATELY ADVISE WHEN AND HOW YOU PLAN TO SEND FAMILY PHOTOS AND REPORT OF HOW FAMILY IS DOING

THIS IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOUR VACATIONING IN RIO AND SHOULD BE ACCOMPLISHED FIRST

ACKNOWLEDGE RECEIPT

AGGIE

“You’ve seen this, baby?” Frade asked.

“Of course,” Dorotea said.

“Well, Graham is obviously talking about the Froggers,” Frade said. “But why in this cutesy code language if that thing is any good?”

He indicated the SIGABA device.

“He’s got his reasons, I guess,” Schultz said. “You want to answer it now? Or wait until you get something to eat?”

“With as much naval service as you have, Lieutenant Schultz, I am shocked that you don’t know that nothing gets between a Marine and his chow.” He paused, then asked, “Is there anything else you three have done that I should know about before I chow down?”

“ ‘Chow down’? Good God!” Dorotea said. “I’m married to a savage! But to answer your question, my darling, the only thing that’s happened was that your tailor left a message at the house in Buenos Aires that your suit is ready, and you may pick it up at your convenience.”

“Well, that’s good news!” Clete said happily.

“Since I know your idea of formal dress is hosing the mud off your cowboy boots,” Dorotea said, “your enthusiasm for a new suit piques my curiosity. Tell me all, darling.”

He told her.

Dinner for Frade was the New York strip steak he had thought of earlier, plus two fried eggs, home-fried potatoes, and a tomato and cucumber salad, which additions he thought of as he watched one of the maids open a bottle of merlot.

By the time it was over, not only had a second bottle of merlot been emptied by Clete, Enrico, and Oscar, but Frade was just about prepared to answer Graham’s radio message. Dorotea had first written it down, then gone to the study, typed it out, shown it to him for his approval, then returned to retype it with his corrections, and then finally to show him the final version.

After dinner, he went with her and El Jefe to the study, and watched how the operation worked.

First, she typed the message on the SIGABA keyboard, which produced a very long strip of perforated paper on which the now-encrypted message had been punched.

“Oscar will have to contact Vint Hill, darling,” Dorotea said. “He hasn’t yet had time to teach me how to do that.”

“Won’t you have to learn Morse code first?”

“Of course, but that shouldn’t take long.”

He didn’t argue.

It didn’t take the former chief radioman long to establish contact with Vint Hill. Frade heard Schultz twice key in dit dit dit, dah dit dit dit, which he recognized as being SB, for “Stand By.”

Schultz waved graciously at Dorotea, who then took the perforated tape, fed it into the Collins, and with a delicate finger pushed a button.

The Collins began to swallow the tape, far faster than Clete expected. Finally, it had gone through the machine and come out another opening.

“Another beauty of this setup is that it transmits so fast,” Schultz said. “You can resend—in other words, send twice—in less time than it would take me to key this in by hand. Less time for anybody to triangulate us, even if they happened on the frequency we’re using.”

“Very impressive,” Clete said, meaning it.

He gestured to Dorotea, who fed the tape into the Collins again.

When it started to come out of the Collins, Schultz moved a small metal wastebasket under the transceiver to catch it.

“And now all we have to do is burn the tape,” he said. “And of course Dorotea’s notes and the drafts, and we’re done.”

“Not in here, Oscar,” Dorotea commanded. “Burning that paper will smell up the whole house.”

They carried the wastebasket onto the verandah.

Schultz took out a Zippo lighter, lit a piece of paper, and dropped it, flaming, into the wastebasket.

Clete saw something in the dark that shouldn’t be there—the flare of a match in the garden—touched Enrico’s arm, and pointed.

Enrico worked the action of his shotgun.

Then there was another flare of light in the garden, this time long enough for Frade to see that it was a match that a gaucho on horseback was using to light a cigar. And to see that the gaucho held a 7mm Mauser carbine across his saddle.

“There are always two watching the house, Don Cletus,” Enrico said matter-of-factly.

Frade replied softly so that only Enrico could hear.

“What are you talking about?” Dorotea demanded.

“I just told Enrico that I’m so pleased with all you learned that tonight you can stay; he won’t have to take you back to the village.”

“You bah-stud!” she said loudly.

Schultz laughed.

“And you, too!” Dorotea said.