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Honor Bound (Honor Bound 1)

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Avenida Paseo Colón

Buenos Aires

1905 29 December 1942

“Would you

wait outside, please, gentlemen, to give Coronel Martín and myself a word alone?” el Almirante Francisco de Montoya, Chief of the Bureau of Internal Security, Ministry of National Defense, said to el Comandante Carlos Habanzo, of the Bureau of National Security, and el Capitán Gonzalo Delgano, Air Service, Argentine Army, Retired, who stood before his desk, their hands folded on the smalls of their backs. El Teniente Coronel Bernardo Martín sat slumped on a leather couch at one side of the room.

The two left the office, wearing looks of self-approval. After they were gone, Martín leaned forward, picked up a small cup of coffee, and took a sip. When he set it down, he saw that el Almirante de Montoya had left his desk and assumed what Martín thought of as his Deep-In-Thought position: He was standing in front of his window, staring out over the Río de la Plata. His hands were behind his back, his fingers were moving nervously, and he was rocking slightly from side to side.

Finally, he snorted and turned to face Martín.

“I am curious, Martín, why I was not aware until just now that you had this man Delgano reporting on el Coronel Frade.”

“I was aware, mi Almirante, of your friendship with el Coronel Frade…”

“Friendship is not the point, Martín. Friendship is friendship; information is information.”

“…and if Delgano went to Frade and informed him of his relationship with me, I wished to leave you in a position where you could truthfully tell el Coronel Frade that you knew nothing about that…that you stopped the surveillance the instant you did hear about it; and that you are dealing harshly with the man who ordered it.”

“I am touched by your loyalty to me, and your willingness to sacrifice your career to protect me,” de Montoya said.

“I am loyal to you, mi Almirante,” Martín said. “And I feel I can serve you best by not sacrificing my career unless absolutely necessary.”

El Almirante de Montoya looked at Martín with a frown, then he slowly smiled.

“El Comandante Habanzo is the officer who put his career at risk by enlisting Delgano,” Martín said.

“You are a devious fellow, Bernardo,” el Almirante de Montoya said approvingly. “I’m sure this was a painful decision for you to make.”

“At first, it was. And then I began to develop suspicions about el Comandante Habanzo.”

“And have these suspicions been confirmed?”

“Let me say this, mi Almirante: If sacrificing el Comandante Habanzo’s career for the greater good of the BIS becomes necessary, I will not consider it a particularly heavy loss.”

“There is such a thing as being too discreet, Bernardo.”

“Nevertheless, I am not completely sure of my facts. It seemed odd to me, however, after I personally charged Habanzo to surveil young Frade, and to use any assets and personnel he considered necessary, that the men who tried to kill young Frade, and who murdered that poor housekeeper, were able to gain access to the house without being seen.”

“But you did not pursue this line of thought?”

“Young Frade made that impossible, mi Almirante. It’s difficult to interrogate dead men.”

“Yes, you’re right, Bernardo,” el Almirante said thoughtfully. “Curious. And what do you conclude?”

“That it’s quite likely that Habanzo has a relationship with the Germans.”

“Quite possible,” el Almirante said, pausing for a moment to stare out over the river. Then he went on, “Let me say, Bernardo, ex post facto, that you handled the situation at el Coronel Frade’s guest house as I would have handled it myself. That required both imagination and a willingness to assume responsibility.”

“Thank you, mi Almirante. I did what I thought you would want me to do in those circumstances.”

De Montoya smiled and nodded: “So then we must consider the motives of the Germans, mustn’t we? Is this replenishment vessel of theirs so important to their submarine operations that they would be willing to alienate a man who may well become President of Argentina to preserve it?”

“If you would permit me to express my thoughts—not conclusions—about that, and then tell me where I may have gone wrong?”

“Please do.”



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