He waited ten seconds, then said, “The proper Marine officer’s response to that, Colonel, is ‘Aye, aye, sir.’ And for the moment at least, you are still a serving officer in the Corps.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
An MP captain, this one festooned with all the proper MP accoutrements, came into the office three minutes later. He saluted.
“Captain,” Graham said, almost cordially, “I’ll see to it that the prisoners get back to Fort Hunt. I can see no need for you to wait around here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s all, Captain,” Graham said. “You are dismissed.”
“Yes, sir.”
The captain left and closed the door.
“That’s all, Colonel Frade,” Graham said. “You are dismissed.”
Clete stood, and, remembering what Graham had said about Naval custom proscribing the exchange of hand salutes indoors unless under arms, didn’t.
He met Graham’s eyes for a moment, then marched toward the door.
“Clete,” Graham called.
Frade turned.
“You were right, Clete. Wild Bill will throw one of his famous Irish fits when he hears about this, but that’ll be the end of it. We both know too much, and he is fully aware that we do.”
“I hope that’s the case, sir.”
“Please present my compliments to Kapitän Boltitz and Major von Wachtstein. And my best regards to Doña Dorotea.”
“I’ll do that, sir. Thank you.”
“Maybe we’ll see one another one day. Strange things happen in this business we’re in. Belay that. Were in.”
“Were in, sir?”
“The reason Donovan’s parking spot was so conveniently open for you is that he’s over in the Pentagon begging General Marshall not to shut down the OSS this afternoon.”
“But if they shut down the OSS right now, what about . . .”
“All the ongoing projects? Several of which you’re running?”
“Yes, sir.”
“God only knows, Colonel Frade. Have a nice flight. Vaya con Dios.”
[SIX]
Washington National Airport Arlington, Virginia 1705 10 May 1945
The public address loudspeakers of South American Airways Constellation Ciudad de Córdoba blared in the passenger compartment: “Passenger von Wachtstein to the cockpit. Passenger von Wachtstein to the cockpit.”
Hans-Peter Baron von Wachtstein made his way up the aisle and entered th
e cockpit.
“Sit there, Hansel,” Frade said in German, pointing to a jump seat. “Don’t touch anything, and pay attention. You might learn something.”