And when Aguirre and whoever Nervo has watching me see a busload of priests, nuns, and orphan children showing up here in a Little Sisters of the Poor bus, then me flying everybody off in the Lodestar, they’re going to say, “How nice! Don Cletus has found religion!”
In a pig’s ass they are!
On a scale of one to ten, Major Frade, you have fucked up to at least twelve!
“For a dozen people, Elisa,” Clete went on.
“Sí, Don Cletus.”
“And bring coffee and sweet rolls while we’re waiting, please.”
The first people to arrive—unexpectedly—were Lieutenant Oscar J. Schultz, USNR, in his gaucho clothing, and Staff Sergeant Jerry O’Sullivan of the United States Army, who was in uniform except that he was wearing neither a necktie nor any headgear. He had a Thompson submachine gun hanging from his shoulder.
Schultz took one look around the room and said, “Oops! Sorry.”
Clete waved them into the dining room.
“Padre,” Schultz said to Welner.
“Father,” O’Sullivan said.
“Jefe,” Welner replied. “Jerry.”
Clete saw Niedermeyer looking at Schultz with interest bordering on in credulity.
“Say hello to Otto Niedermeyer,” Clete said, pointing to him. “When he’s not dressed up like a Jesuit priest, he’s an SS sergeant major.”
Schultz crossed to Niedermeyer and offered his hand.
“I never know when he’s kidding,” Schultz said in German.
“I kid you not,” Frade said.
“And sometimes he even explains things to me,” Schultz added, then glanced at Clete. “Is this one of those times?”
“In a minute,” Clete said. “Had your breakfast?”
“Cup of coffee is all,” Schultz said. “The Other Dorotea spent the night with her mother. The perimeter gauchos said you’d just driven onto the estancia. We thought we’d welcome you home.” He looked at Niedermeyer. “Not one of those from the U-boat?”
“There was SS on the U-boat?” Frade asked.
“About a dozen of them, the best I could see,” O’Sullivan said.
“Anybody see you while you were looking?” Clete asked.
O’Sullivan shook his head.
“No, sir,” he said, and with a smile added, “And there was some kind of big shot. All dressed up. Complete to homburg hat and briefcase. His rubber boat struck something and sank like a rock. He got soaked.”
Looking at Niedermeyer, Frade said, “That was probably SS-Brigadeführer Ritter Manfred von Deitzberg. You know who he is?”
Niedermeyer nodded, then blurted, “He’s here? He came here by U-boat?”
Clete nodded.
“Which makes me wonder how he came here,” Schultz said, nodding toward Niedermeyer.
“On my airplane,” Clete said.