Secret Honor (Honor Bound 3)

Rawson attributed Martín’s reasons for declining the directorship to commendable modesty, and decided that for the moment, until a Director could be chosen, Martín would serve as Interim Director. Rawson assured Martín he would seek his advice about which officer he should name Dir

ector.

Martín pushed open the door from the corridor to the foyer of his office. Three men rose to their feet. Two were in business suits, and by appearance could have been bankers or lawyers or successful shopkeepers. They were, in fact, agents of the BIS assigned to the Ethical Standards Office. The third man, who wore the uniform of a Suboficial Mayor, and was in fact a sergeant major, was also an agent of the BIS.

Martín motioned all three of them to follow him into his office. When they were all inside, he motioned to Suboficial Mayor Jose Cortina to lock the door.

“Who’s with the President?” Martín asked.

Cortina provided two names.

Martín nodded his approval.

President Rawson was accompanied everywhere by his armed aide-de-camp. There was also a Policía Federal bodyguard detail. It consisted of two bodyguards and the drivers of all the cars in any presidential motor parade, which might be anywhere from two to six cars. All of these drivers were also armed.

The Policía Federal believed this was enough protection. Martín devoutly hoped it would be; but to err on the side of caution, he had ordered that two men from the Ethical Standards Office be with the President at all times.

The Policía Federal considered this an insult to their competence, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it. Until a new Director of the BIS was named and took office, only the President himself could override Martín’s decisions.

If the Germans were brazen enough to assassinate Coronel Frade, they just might be brazen enough to try to eliminate General Rawson. They might think he had been responsible for—or at least knew about and tacitly supported—the shooting of the two German officers on the beach near Puerto Magdalena, and be seeking revenge. Or they might decide to remove him because he shared Frade’s pro-Anglo-American, anti-German beliefs. Or there might be an attempt on his life from officers or officials who had been deposed in the revolution. Because the threat was real, Martín saw it as his duty to do whatever he could to protect the President, whether or not the Policía Federal liked it.

“And if the President decides to go to the Frade wedding, how many people will we have at Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo to augment them?”

“Six, Señor,” Cortina said.

“That should be enough,” Martín said. “We do know, right, that he’s going out there?”

“Sí, Señor,” Cortina said.

There came a rapping at the closed doors.

Too sharp for knuckles, Martín thought, and signaled with his hand for someone to open the door.

Señora Mazza, a squarish, fiftyish woman in a simple black dress, marched into the office. She held a miniature cavalry sword—her letter opener, and obviously the source of the sharp rapping on the door.

“Excuse me, mi Coronel,” she said, and went to his desk and picked up one of the telephones there.

“Here is el Coronel Martín, Señor Presidente,” she said, and extended the phone to Martín.

“Coronel Martín,” he said into it.

“General Rawson, Coronel,” the President of Argentina said. “I’m glad I caught you in.”

“How may I be of service, Señor Presidente?”

“Obregon,” Rawson said. “How does he strike you?”

El General de Division Manuel Federico Obregon was one of the eight senior officers in the running to be Director of the Bureau of Internal Security.

“General Obregon, Señor Presidente?”

“How would you feel if he took over BIS, Martín?”

My honest answer is that Obregon is the one man I desperately hoped would not be given the appointment.

“I would be honored to serve under General Obregon, Señor Presidente.”

“General Ramírez and Coronel Perón feel he would be the best choice.”