Clete felt anger welling up in him. Nestor was making it clear he thought Clete was a fool.
I may be an amateur down here, but I’m not a fool.
“Perhaps not,” he said. “Von Wachtstein might have elected to tell Colonel Whatsisname—the attaché—nothing more than that he met me. And isn’t it likely that Colonel Whatsisname has friends in the Centro Naval? Wouldn’t they already have reported to him that my father introduced me there as a former Marine?”
For a moment, Clete thought Nestor was about to chew him out. His face showed that he didn’t like being argued with. But finally, he smiled.
“Well, then,” he said. “With the exception of this unfortunate encounter with the German captain, things seem to be going well, don’t they? Falling into place, so to speak.”
“They seem to be.”
“Except, of course, for those walkie-talkies. I wish you would reconsider that, Clete.”
“You mean the walkie-talkies that fell in the rice paddy and were lost? Those walkie-talkies?”
Nestor met his eyes and then put out his hand.
“Well, Clete. Have a good time at your father’s estancia. Call me when you come back and tell me about it.”
“Yes, S—Jasper.”
“Better,” Nestor said, then smiled and walked toward the elevator.
[TWO]
Calle Monroe 214
Belgrano, Buenos Aires
1100 14 December 1942
“Got a present for you, David,” Clete said when Ettinger let him into his apartment. “I know you’ve always wanted your very own handmade straw chicken.”
Ettinger looked at him strangely.
There was indeed the head of a straw chicken sticking out the top of the shopping bag Clete had borrowed from Señora Pellano.
“I’m glad to see you back, Clete. Everything apparently went well?”
Clete removed the chicken from the bag, then the two walkie-talkies.
“These are portable radios,” Clete said. “They work well. I didn’t return them to the people who left them in our room in Montevideo. They—and Nestor—are very upset about that. But I thought we might be able to use them. If Nestor asks, you don’t know anything about them.”
“He’s the Station Chief, Clete.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Clete said. “I’ve concluded that from time to time, as the commanding officer of this team, I’m going to have to do things the way I call them. Such as ‘losing’ these radios. If you can’t live with that, tell me now.”
“I’ve been thinking about that too,” Ettinger said after a moment. “It says in the Bible that a man cannot have two masters. So far as I’m concerned, you’re calling the shots, Lieutenant Frade.”
“Thank you,” Clete said. “Now tell me, are these radios going to be useful?”
Ettinger picked up a walkie-talkie and looked at it.
“I’ve seen schematics for these,” he said. “This is the first one I’ve ever actually looked at. If this works the same as the one in the schematics, the frequency is crystal controlled. Unless I can get my hands on some crystals, we can only talk to each other…or to somebody on the same frequency. I think I can up the power, though, to maybe five, six watts. And maybe if I can rig a wire antenna, instead of this telescoping one, I can get us some additional range.” He paused thoughtfully, then said, “To answer your question, Lieutenant, yes, I think they’ll be very useful.”
“Any chance you could find crystals here?”
“Not from the Argentines,” Ettinger said. “But maybe from the Navy.”