Empire and Honor (Honor Bound 7)

“You remember Subteniente Cronley, Sergeant Major?”

“Sí, Don Cletus. Your little brother.” He smiled and thrust his hand at Cronley.

“Think of him, Suboficial Mayor, as subteniente.”

Enrico looked surprised.

“Sí, mi Coronel.”

“In the subteniente’s luggage, Sergeant Major,” Frade went on, “are two thermite grenades. I want you to go with him out there and help disarm the grenades. And then take him to the terminal and load him and the bags in one of the station wagons.”

“Sí, mi Coronel.”

Frade saw Boltitz and Hansel’s old Luftwaffe buddies coming down the stairs and started to walk to the terminal.

Cletus Marcus Howell, Martha Howell, and Beth and Marjorie came out of the passenger terminal onto the tarmac.

“You better have a bucket of cold water ready, Martha,” Clete said. “Beth’s seen Karl Boltitz.”

“You sonofabitch!” Beth said, as she started to run toward Boltitz.

“That’s not funny, Cletus. You should be ashamed of yourself,” Martha replied, but she couldn’t stop from smiling.

“Who’s the man in the American uniform?” Marjorie then asked. “Walking here with Enrico?”

“Not a man you’d be interested in, Marj. Just a shallow kid who works for me.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say he looks like Jimmy Cronley,” Martha said.

“You do know better, Martha. And it looks like you’re going to need two buckets of ice water.”

“Beth’s right,” Marj said. “You are a sonofabitch!”

“I can’t believe my baby sister said that to me!”

“What’s Jimmy doing here?” Martha asked.

“He heard Marj was here and hopped on the next plane.”

“I mean, really,” Martha said, and then stopped when she realized Cronley was now almost up to them.

“Hey, Miz Howell!” he greeted her.

“I know you well enough to get kissed, Jimmy,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and kissed her on the cheek.

“And you’re Clete’s grandfather, right?”

“The last time I saw you, you were in a Boy Scout uniform,” the old man said.

“No, sir. I think it was in my A&M pinks and greens. And it was at Mr. Howell’s funeral.”

“So it was,” the old man said.

Cronley turned to Marjorie.

“Hey, Squirt. How goes it?”