Secret Honor (Honor Bound 3)

“In my opinion, and Frade’s, Galahad is a Class I intelligence source whose identity must be kept secret, so that he won’t be lost to us because somebody here does something stupid and the Germans find out about him. Or even have suspicions about him.”

“That’s not good enough, Alex. I want to know who he is. Who all of Frade’s sources are.”

“He’s not going to tell you, and neither am I,” Graham said. “I guess we’re back where we started.”

“And if Frade is taken out—which, after what they did to his father, seems a real possibility—that would leave only you knowing who Galahad is. That’s not acceptable, Alex.”

“There are others who know who Galahad is,” Graham said. “But I won’t tell you who they are, either.”

Donovan looked at Graham, expressionless, for almost a minute before he spoke.

“I’m going to have to think about this, Alex,” he said.

“Think quick, Bill. I want an answer right now, before I leave your office.”

“That sounds like another threat.”

“Either you fire me, which I think would be a mistake, or you tell me I can stay on under the original ground rules. You will not second-guess me. Your choice.”

“That’s not a choice. I can’t do without you, and you know it.”

“I have your word, Bill?”

“I can be overruled by the President,” Donovan said. “He’s not used to having anybody tell him something’s none of his business.”

“Roosevelt can’t do without you, and both of you know it,” Graham said. “What’s it to be, Bill?”

Donovan exhaled audibly. “OK,” he said. “You have my word.”

“Thank you.”

Graham pushed himself off the couch. “I need a long, hot shower and several stiff drinks,” he said. He got as far as the door before Donovan called his name.

“Yes?” Graham asked, turning.

“This is a question, Alex, rather than second-guessing. Did you approve of Frade’s killing those two Nazis—the military attaché and the SS guy—on the beach?”

“Frade didn’t kill them,” Graham said. “They were shot by two retired Argentine army sergeants.”

“How did that happen?”

“I sent the lieutenant from Ashton’s team to the beach to take pictures of the Germans landing the Operation Phoenix money from the Océano Pacífico. I sent the sergeants down to the beach to guard him. That’s all they were supposed to do. But one of the sergeants not only had been el Coronel Frade’s batman for thirty years, but the brother of the woman who was killed when they tried to assassinate young Frade. And they’re Argentines, Latins, like me. Revenge is a part of our culture. The minute they saw who it was…bang! Ashton’s lieutenant was very i

mpressed. It was at least two hundred yards. Two shots only. Both in their heads.”

“You sound as if you approve.”

“I wouldn’t have ordered it,” Graham said. “And Frade didn’t. But was I overwhelmed with remorse? No. You ever hear ‘an eye for an eye’?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that. I’ve also heard ‘the devil you know is better than the one you don’t.’ They’ll send somebody else.”

“Yes, I’m afraid they will. Anything else, Bill?”

Donovan shook his head, “no,” and Graham walked out of the office.

II

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