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“I am SS-Oberführer Horst Lang,” Lang corrected him furiously. “And who are you?”

“Former SS-Brigadeführer Gerhard Körtig told us all about you, Señor Lang,” Cronley went on, uncowed, “when we arrested him this morning as he got off the train in Bariloche.”

“And you are . . . ?” Lang demanded arrogantly.

“My name is Cronley. I’m a special agent of the Counterintelligence Corps, U.S. Army, on detached service with the Argentine Bureau of Internal Security. You are all under arrest. Tell your men to drop their weapons and put their hands up.”

“Willi?” Schneider asked, incredulously.

“He is who he says,” von Dattenberg said. “Do what he says, Alois. Please.”

They locked eyes.

“The war’s over, Alois,” von Dattenberg added.

Schneider glanced at Lang, then looked at von Dattenberg—and nodded. He started to turn to his sailors . . .

“Kill him!” Lang suddenly shouted. “Kill that gottverdammt American!”

“Nein,” Schneider said.

“I said kill him! That is an order!” Lang screamed, almost hysterically.

Schneider made a Put down your weapons gesture to his men.

They did.

The SS men looked confused. They neither put down nor raised their weapons.

Lang fumbled as he quickly started to take a pistol from the pocket of his black leather overcoat. He had it almost out when there came a three-round burst from the Thompson.

Lang crumpled silently to the ground.

The SS men watched in shock as the snow around Lang became crimson stained.

They looked back at Cronley. He was gesturing with the muzzle of the Thompson for the SS men to drop their Schmeissers.

“Schnell!” Schneider ordered.

After a long moment, they did so.

Cronley gestured with the muzzle for the SS to raise their hands. They complied.

“What happens now?” Schneider asked.

“I think this is where I throw up,” Cronley said in English. “I’ve already pissed in my pants.”

“Excuse me?” Willi Grüner asked. “I don’t speak English.”

Von Dattenberg, who spoke English, laughed.

“I can’t believe anybody swallowed all that BIS bullshit,” Cronley said. “I don’t even know where it all came from.”

“Wherever it came from it was the right thing to do,” von Dattenberg said. “Now I know why Elsa told me you really are an unusual young man.”

Cronley looked at Schneider, then at von Dattenberg.

“You trust this guy, right?” Cronley asked, still in English.


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