Ruta Nacional No. 7
Near Morón
Buenos Aires Province, Argentina
1750 19 September 1943
“I hope this doesn’t make you think I’m paranoid, mi coronel,” Frade said, “but I think we are being followed.”
Frade was at the wheel of the Horch. Martín sat beside him. Enrico was in the back. The canvas top of the Horch had been lowered.
“We are,” Martín said. “Please tell Enrico not to shoot them; they belong to me.”
“Enrico,” Frade called, raising his voice. “Don’t shoot at the people in the car behind us. They belong to el Coronel Martín.”
“There’s two cars of them, Don Cletus,” Enrico called. “They’ve been with us since we left the airfield.”
Frade looked at Martín, held up two fingers, and wordlessly asked with a raised eyebrow, What the hell is that all about?
Martín explained: “About a month ago—on August 12, to be precise—there was an incident near your home on Coronel Díaz. You may have read about it in the press. It was necessary for the police to kill three criminals they came across in the middle of a robbery.”
“I do seem to recall something about that,” Frade said.
“I didn’t want something like that to mar Doña Claudia’s little party today. Better safe than sorry, as they say.”
&nbs
p; “You really think that’s likely?”
“I’d say it’s far more likely that unknown malefactors who don’t like you would have another go at you while you’re—while we’re—riding along here like targets in a carnival shooting gallery.”
“How would they know I’m here?”
“How many cars like this Horch would you say there are in Argentina?”
“Good point,” Frade said.
“Cletus, can we have one of our off-the-record conversations?”
“Same rules?”
“Same rules. We don’t have to answer a question, but if we do, it has to be the truth.”
“Ask away.”
“Let’s start with what happened today: What’s going on with that enormous airplane?”
“Airplanes. There’s three of them.”
“Three of them?”
“There’s another at the Canoas airfield, being painted, and another on the way there.”
“And what are you going to do with them? More to the point, what are you going to do with them for the OSS?”
“The what?” Frade replied. “The OSS? What’s that?”
They smiled at each other.