"Okay, Otto. This won't take long. We'll see you there," Castillo said, and he and the others got out of the taxi. As Castillo watched it drive away, Sergeant Seymour Kranz touched his arm.
"Major, what the hell is that?" he asked, pointing.
Castillo looked. In the park facing the embassy was a statue of a man in uniform with his hands folded behind his back.
"It's a statue, Seymour. Budapest is full of them. They even have a section of the Berlin Wall around here somewhere."
"That's an old-timey American uniform," Kranz said.
"I'll be damned, I think he's right," Colonel Torine said.
Castillo looked again and asked, "What time is it in Washington, Seymour?"
Kranz consulted his watch and reported, "Oh-four-oh-five, sir."
"Since it won't make much difference to whoever we get out of bed whether it is oh-four-oh-five or oh-four-ten, let us go and broaden our cultural horizons by examining the statue," Castillo said. "Why the hell would there be a statue of an American officer in a park in Budapest?"
They walked to the statue. It was indeed of an American, wearing a World War I-era uniform of riding boots and breeches. He looked as if he were examining the embassy and found it wanting.
There was a bronze plaque with a legend in English beneath it. Kranz read it aloud: "Harry Hill Bandholtz, Brigadier General, U.S. Army. 'I simply carried out the instructions of my Government, as I understood them, as an officer and a gentleman of the United States Army.'"
"I wonder what the hell that's all about?" Fernando said.
"I wonder what the instructions he carried out were to get him a statue?" Kranz asked.
"Gentlemen," Castillo said, "fellow history buffs. Perhaps there is a public information officer in the embassy who can enlighten us all. Shall we see?"
There might have been a public information officer at the embassy, but they never got to meet him.
They encountered first a Marine guard, a buck sergeant, who politely but firmly told them there was no way they could see the ambassador without an appointment.
Colonel Torine produced his Air Force identification.
"Sergeant, you get the defense attache on the phone, or down here, and do it now."
The Marine guard examined the photo ID carefully, and then picked up his telephone.
"There is a USAF colonel here who wants to talk to a defense attache," he announced, and then handed the telephone to Torine.
"This is Colonel Jacob Torine, USAF. Are you the defense attache, Captain?" Brief pause. "Then get him on the goddamned horn, or down here, and right goddamn now!"
An Army lieutenant colonel appeared.
"Colonel Torine?" he asked.
"Right."
"I'm Lieutenant Colonel Martin, sir. I'm the Army attache. May I see your identification, please, sir?"
Torine produced his identification again.
"How may I help you, Colonel?"
"We would like to see either the ambassador or the chief of mission," Torine said.
"May I ask why?"
"No, goddammit, you may not!" Torine exploded.