Gehlen said: “Although they are not supposed to, I’m sure that some of my people have weapons. Especially those who, having turned, have to consider the possibility they may need them. And some of my people are highly skilled in that sort of thing. I’m afraid Jim is right. And I further suggest that if such an attempt will be made, it will take place before the move to the Pullach compound is complete.”
“And that really settles it,” Cronley said. “Konstantin is about to go to the Paris of South America.”
“Involuntarily, you mean?” Gehlen asked thoughtfully.
“I don’t think he’s about to volunteer, do you?” Cronley replied. “Father, who flew the Connie from Buenos Aires?”
“Hansel,” the priest said.
“Who the hell is Hansel?” Tiny asked.
“Former Major Hans-Peter Graf von Wachtstein, recipient of the Knight’s Cross of the Iron Cross from the hands of Hitler himself,” Cronley said. “Who by now is probably at 44-46 Beerenstrasse in Berlin.”
“I’m lost,” Tiny admitted.
“Father, I presume you brought identity documents and a passport for Señor Orlovsky?”
“Yes.”
“Does anything have to be done to them?”
“Just the addition of a photograph and a name.”
“There was a photograph of him on his forged German Kennkarte,” Gehlen said. “And then Bischoff took some photos of him.”
“We’ll have to get Felix Dzerzhinsky’s documents in order as soon as possible,” Cronley said.
Gehlen laughed.
“Can you handle that, General?”
“Of course.”
“That’s what you’re going to call him?” Tiny asked. “Why? It has some meaning?”
“Felix Dzerzhinsky was the founder of the Cheka,” Cronley said.
“He was not a very nice man, Tiny,” Gehlen said. “He said a lot of terrible things, but what most people remember was his hope that the bourgeoisie would drown in rivers of their own blood.”
“An evil and godless man!” Father Welner blurted with, for him, unusual bitterness.
“Orlovsky will probably be flattered,” Cronley said.
“How are you going to get him on the airplane if he doesn’t want to go?” Welner asked.
“Poor Felix, ill and delirious, will be strapped to a stretcher,” Cronley said.
“And if he calls out for help in his delirium?” Tiny asked.
“He will also be wrapped in bandages like a mummy,” Cronley said. “But I’d like to dope him, if I could figure out a way to do that.”
“That can be arranged,” Gehlen said. “I’ll have a word with one of my physicians.”
“You do that, please, General, while I get on the SIGABA,” Cronley said, and then turned to Staff Sergeant Lewis. “I think you’ll enjoy Buenos Aires, Lewis.”
[ EIGHT ]
PRIORITY