Secret Honor (Honor Bound 3)

She sounds genuinely disappointed. Is that because I am the greatest lover since Casanova? Or because she’s a nymphomaniac?

Oh, Jesus Christ, I’m really hard!

“I would really hate to waste that,” Trudi said.

“Trudi, I’m beat,” Peter said. “I don’t have the energy…”

“Ssssh,” Trudi said, putting her finger on his lips. Then she straddled him and guided him into her.

Oh, my God!

Peter opened his eyes. Someone was knocking at door.

Christ, I told him to wait downstairs!

He looked around for Trudi. She wasn’t in the bed with him, and there was no sign of her in the room—no purse, no clothing. He remembered that she had collapsed on him, and he hadn’t particularly liked that, and he remembered that he was just going to have to close his eyes and get a couple of minutes sleep.

“What is it?” Peter called.

“Herr Major, the Herr General and the other gentlemen are downstairs.”

“I’ll be there directly,” Peter said.

He found his watch. The U.S. Army Air Corps chronometer said that it was 12:09.

Christ, I remember telling Henderver—and, my God, Galland too—about that slime of an SS officer who stole it from the American pilot.

What else did I run off at the mouth about last night?

And the orderly said “gentlemen,” More than one. Who’s with Boltitz? That charming slime, Obersturmbannführer Karl Cranz, who met us in Lisbon?

Galland had been disgusted with the story. Disgusted enough to tell Obersturmbannführer Karl Cranz about it?

You goddamn irresponsible fool!

Getting drunk out of your mind!

He swung his feet out of the bed and walked unsteadily to the bathroom. He turned on the cold water of the shower and stood under it until he was shivering nearly out of control. He hoped the cold water would clear his head.

All it did was make me shiver.

Keep your goddamn mouth shut when you go downstairs.

Peter cut himself in three places while shaving.

Generalmajor Adolf Galland, Obersturmbannführer Karl Cranz, Korvettenkapitän Karl Boltitz, Oberstleutnant Henderver, Oberstleutnant Deitzer, and Hauptmann Willi Grüner were in the sitting room when Peter walked in. “Heil Hitler!” Peter said, giving the Nazi salute. “My apologies, Herr General, for my tardiness.”

The Nazi salute was returned with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

“You may notice, Cranz,” Galland said, “that Major von Wachtstein looks a bit pale.”

“So he does.”

“Yesterday,” Galland went on. “Major von Wachtstein flew a new aircraft—”

“You’re not referring

the ME-262?” Cranz asked.