“Yes, sir,” the aide-de-camp said.
—
“How may I serve the general?” the German bartender asked, in British-accented English.
“Well, since Colonel Mattingly has so graciously asked us to join him for a little nip, I’ll have a taste of your best scotch, straight, water on the side. Better make it a double.”
This Greene is really sticking it to Mattingly. And enjoying it.
“Yes, sir. And you, madam?”
“I’ll have a martini, please,” Mrs. Schumann said.
“As before, madam? Vodka, no vegetables?”
A vodka martini, no vegetables? “As before”?
Lady, you don’t look like somebody who drinks vodka martinis, no vegetables, before lunch.
“Precisely.” She smiled.
“Colonel?”
“Scotch, please,” Mattingly said.
“Sir?” he asked Cronley.
“Jack Daniel’s, please. On the rocks.”
Their drinks were quickly served.
“I’d like to offer a toast,” General Greene said. “To our happy little CIC community.”
“Not to forget the ASA,” Mrs. Schumann added, as she raised her glass.
“To our happy little CIC and ASA community,” Mattingly toasted with no visible enthusiasm.
Yeah, the ASA, Cronley thought as they all sipped drinks.
Kloster Grünau and that station in Berlin are connected to the Vint Hill Farms ASA station in Virginia. Certainly the ASA here must also be connected. Does that mean then that the ASA here can read our encrypted traffic?
More important, why hasn’t Mattingly told me whether or not they can?
Which leads me to wonder what else I should know he hasn’t told me.
Mrs. Schumann’s leg brushed against his, and he quickly moved his out of her way.
“Can I ask what this luncheon is about?” Cronley asked.
“The CIC/ASA Officers’ Ladies Club . . .” Mrs. Schumann began, turning to him on her swiveling bar stool. Cronley was standing, so when she swiveled toward him, her knee grazed his crotch.
“Of which Rachel, Mrs. Schumann, is the very capable president,” General Greene furnished.
“. . . has a ‘Welcome Newly Arrived’ luncheon every month . . .” she went on.
Cronley pulled back his crotch, which caused her knee to move off his crotch as far as the inside of his left knee, against which it now lightly pressed.
That has to be innocent.