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“I will be waiting with great expectations,” el Coronel Jorge Guillermo Frade said, and the phone went dead.

Señora Pellano was standing there during the conversation, making Clete a little uncomfortable—he was wearing only a towel around his waist.

“Señora, could you make a map showing me how to drive to my father’s estancia? I am going to have dinner with him.”

“Marvelous,” she said. “He will be pleased. I will draw you a map.”

“I have a better idea,” Clete said impulsively. “Why don’t you ride down there with me? And show me the way?”

“I am not sure el Coronel would be pleased.”

“You don’t work for him, you work for me,” Clete argued. She considered that a moment.

“Yes, that is true,” she said. “And I could see my family, my sisters, my brother, my aunts.”

“Then you’re coming,” Clete said.

“If you wish, Señor Cletus,” she said.

XIII

[ONE]

4730 Avenida Libertador

1005 14 December 1942

“It’s a little early for that, isn’t it?” Jasper C. Nestor asked with disapproval, indicating Clete’s beer. But he softened the criticism by smiling and adding, “Is beer drinking at this hour another of those barbarous Texas customs we hear so much about?”

“It’s medicinal,” Clete said. “My uncle Jim taught me that. When you are all bent out of shape the morning after, a beer is far superior to coffee, prairie oysters, et cetera, et cetera. Can I offer you a cup of coffee? Tea?”

“I’ll have coffee, thank you, if that would be convenient,” Nestor said. “I presume you were celebrating your successful trip to Punta del Este.”

“Our successful passage through Argentine customs with our souvenirs,” Clete said. “I was really worried about that.”

“Speaking of souvenirs, Clete: They didn’t find the walkie-talkies in your room.”

“I regret to inform you, Sir, that you’ll have to fill out the appropriate form certifying that the walkie-talkies were lost in combat.”

“If you need radios, Clete, ask me for them.”

“All right.”

“Where are they?”

“The explosives are here,” Clete said, pointing at a large wardrobe. “Pelosi has the detonators.”

“And the radios?”

“You mean the radios that were expended in the service of the United States? Those radios?”

“They’re really upset about those radios. Apparently they are in very short supply.”

“I thought they might be. Pelosi tells me they’re brand-new.”

Nestor’s face tightened, but he didn’t respond. He changed the subject: “The ship we’re talking about has been positively identified. It’s the Reine de la Mer. She sailed from Lisbon November thirteenth, so she should be arriving here in the next day or two. She may call at Montevideo first.”

“OK.”


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