"Are you familiar with plastic explosive, Major? C-3?" Clete nodded. "I have fifty pounds."
"Can you put it with the submachine guns?"
Stein nodded.
"Do that," Clete said. "I'd be happier if the side arms were also out of sight."
"Ferris, you and Stein go out there now and put all the weapons and all the plastic explosive in with the radar."
"Yes, Sir."
"Sergeant, do you think you could load the crates aboard the aircraft tonight'?" Clete asked.
"I'd have to talk somebody out of a truck to move the stuff from the ware-house to the hangar and talk somebody into letting me into the hangar. I think it would probably be better if I had an officer with me."
"I'll go with Sergeant Ferris," the gorilla said.
"No." Ashton said. "You will stay here and see that the Major and Mr. Rodriguez get their dinner. I'll go with Ferris and Stein."
[FIVE]
Headquarters
2035th U.S. Army Air Carps Support Wing
Porto Alegre Naval Base, Brazil
1205 17 April 1943
Colonel J. B. Wallace, U.S. Army Air Corps, who commanded the 2035th Training Wing, was informed at 1155 hours by the Brazilian Navy officer in charge of base security that two Argentinian gentlemen-a Se¤or Frade and a Se¤or Rodriguez-were at the main gate, seeking permission to enter the base for the purpose of visiting Colonel Wallace.
"I'll send a car for them," Wallace replied.
"They have a car, my Colonel. Shall I pass them in?"
"Please."
Colonel Wallace then made a note in his pocket notebook: 1159 17 Apr43-Major Frade, accompanied by an Argentine named Rodriguez., admit-ted to Base.
The notes he had been keeping would be later typed in draft, and edited, and then retyped. Colonel Wallace had every intention of keeping a detailed record of everything that happened with regard to these OSS people. Irregular as a monumental understatement. There was no question in his mind that questions would be asked about this whole mess, and he wanted to be prepared.
Colonel Wallace's office was on the ground floor of a single-story building that reminded him very much of the buildings at Maxwell Air Corps Base in Al-abama. Obviously, since Brazil drew its culture from Portugal, it was "Portuguese-style" architecture, but Colonel Wallace could not help but think of it as Spanish. The buildings at Maxwell were always thought of as Spanish-style.
He walked to the window and peered around the edge of the heavy curtain for his first look at Major C. H. Frade of the Office of Strategic Services. It was always helpful to have a look at someone with whom one was to deal before ac-tually meeting them.
A 1937 Buick Limited convertible touring sedan, which looked as if it had rolled off the showroom floor that morning, came down the street and pulled into the curved drive in front of the building. It was chauffeur driven, and when it came to a stop, it was close enough for Colonel Wallace to read the license plate. It was an Argentine plate, reading "Corrientes 11." It was obviously the property of some prominent Argentine.
The chauffeur ran around the rear of the car and opened the rear door. A very young man stepped out. Colonel Wallace thought he was no older than twenty-two or twenty-three. He was wearing a tweed jacket, a yellow polo shirt with a red foulard filling the open collar, riding breeches, and glistening boots.
He did not look like a field-grade Marine Corps officer detailed to the Of-fice of Strategic Services, Colonel Wallace decided. The older man with him, who had a pronounced military bearing, was probably Major Frade. The young man-Se¤or Rodriguez-was probably somehow connected with the chauffeur-driven Buick with the low-numbered licensed plate.
The more he thought about it, the more he was pleased. Not only was Ma-jor Frade obviously competent in what he was doing-establishing a good re-lationship with prominent natives was obviously both useful and difficult to accomplish-but Frade would likely be very interested to learn that Captain Maxwell Ashton had such contempt for military customs that he had installed his enlisted men in officers' quarters.
And Frade would very possibly, at least unofficially, tell him what this whole irregular operation was all about.
Two minutes later, Colonel Wallace's sergeant knocked at the door and in-formed him that Mr. Frade and another gentleman wished to see him.
"Show the Major in, Sergeant," Colonel Wallace said as he walked from the window toward the door.