“Welcome to Washington, Herr Oberstleutnant.”
Frogger did not reply.
“One of two things is going to happen now,” Frade said. “I’m going to have the major remove your handcuffs. Then you have your choice of walking forward and going down the stairs and into the van. Or you can be difficult about this, and the handcuffs will be put back on your wrists and you will be led— or carried, if you choose to be difficult—down the wider stairs at the passenger compartment door and put into the van.”
“Where am I being taken?”
“To see Herr Hanfstaengl. He’s a former close friend of your Führer.”
“This entire situation, sir, is a violation of my rights under the Geneva Convention! I demand to see a representative of the International Red Cross!”
Frade stood and looked at Fischer.
“Have them cuff Herr Oberstleutnant’s hands behind his back and put him in the van.”
Frade stood in the passenger door and watched as two of Howard’s Saints marched Frogger down the stairs and to the rear door of the CAPITOL CATERING van. Fischer followed them. The van’s door closed and it drove off.
Frade stepped back and motioned for Colonel Graham to precede him down the stairs. They both got into the limousine and it drove off.
As they left the air base, Frade said, “I don’t suppose there’s a radio in that van, is there? And one in here?”
“There is,” Graham said. “That is, there are. But if you’re thinking of telling them to drive the extra couple blocks to show Frogger the White House, I already have.”
The Packard stopped in front of the Hotel Washington. Graham got out with Frade on his heels, went through the revolving door, and walked purposefully to the bank of elevators. They got on one, and the operator, a burly black man with gray hair, closed the door.
“Good evening, Steve,” Graham said politely. “By now they should be waiting for us in the subbasement.”
“Excuse me, Colonel,” the operator said as he studied Frade and his long locks. “Who’s this gentleman?”
“This is Major Frade,” Graham said.
“My heads-up said you, an MP major, two of Mr. Hughes’s men, and a quote end quote special visitor.”
“And that while we’re in there nobody else is to be admitted?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The MP officer will be in the basement with the special visitor,” Graham explained. “I’ll vouch for this officer.”
“Yes, sir,” the elevator operator said, and reached for the elevator control. As he did so, Frade saw that the fabric of the operator’s black jacket was tightly stretched over what was almost certainly a 1911-A1 Colt .45 in the small of his back.
“Why do I suspect you’re one of us?” Frade asked him, smiling.
“No, sir. I’m Secret Service. We protect the President, the Vice President, their families, and select supposed ex-Nazis.”
The elevator stopped and the Secret Service man slid open the door.
Frogger was standing there with one of Hughes’s men on each side. Fischer stood to one side.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” the Secret Service man said. “I guess you’re waiting for the elevator to the Washington Berghof?”
Graham laughed.
“Get on, please, Oberstleutnant Frogger,” Graham ordered.
Frogger looked reluctant, almost as if he was going to refuse.
“Get on,” Graham repeated.