Death and Honor (Honor Bound 4)

South American Airways corporate counsel Ernesto Dowling—a tall, ascetic-looking, superbly tailored fifty-odd-year-old—was sitting near the head of a long conference table. Next to him was Father Kurt Welner, S.J., and beside the superbly tailored cleric was Doña Claudia de Carzino-Cormano, who wore a simple black dress adorned with what looked like a two-meter-long string of flawless white pearls. El Coronel Juan Domingo Perón, in uniform, was sitting at the far end of the conference table.

“Not to worry, children,” Frade called to them cheerfully. “The Marines have landed and the situation is well in hand.”

That earned him a very faint smile from Father Welner. No one else smiled, and Dowling looked at him with disapproval.

Either they have never heard that before, or they don’t know what it means.

Or they’re all constipated.

“If I’d known there was going to be a meeting of the board, I’d have worn a necktie,” Frade then added.

He went to Claudia and kissed her, meaning it; next kissed Perón, not meaning it; and shook Welner’s hand, telling him that the Lord’s distinguished representative was again surrounded by sinners and thus had his work cut out for him.

Then Frade offered his hand to Dowling.

Fortunately, I don’t know the sonofabitch well enough to have to kiss him.

And what an arrogant sonofabitch!

Delgano is SAA’s chief pilot, not some flunky who can be dismissed with: “Captain Delgano will not be required.”

“Captain Delgano!” Frade called. “The party’s in here. We’ve apparently missed the champagne, but no doubt the dancing girls are on the way!”

Claudia shook her head. Everyone else seemed uncomfortable or reproachful.

I think I have just failed inspection.

Well, I’m not running for office.

Delgano came into the office.

“Sit here beside Colonel Perón and me,” Frade ordered. “With a little luck, we won’t have to talk to the civilians.”

Perón smiled at that.

Duarte came into the room and took the seat at the head of the conference table.

“Can I get either of you coffee or anything?”

“No, thanks,” Frade said. “What I’m hoping is that whatever this is won’t take long, and Delgano and I can go to the Círculo Militar for a couple of well-deserved jolts of their best whiskey. We’ll take you along with us, Tío Juan, if you’ll pay.”

Perón laughed, which earned him disapproving looks from everybody but Father Welner.

“ ‘Well deserved,’ Cletus?” the Jesuit asked.

“Delgano and I spent the day flying.”

“When I spoke with Dorotea, she said you were in Uruguay,” the priest said.

Frade nodded. “Back and forth thereto. Three times. Each.”

“In this weather? I could hardly see to drive in the fog.”

“Lesser men could not. Captain Delgano and myself can and did. Taking with us a total of eight SAA pilots who woke up this morning holding the erroneous belief that one cannot fly across the River Plate unless there are no clouds and the sun is shining. We converted them, though, didn’t we, Gonzo?”

“Yes,” Delgano replied with a grin, “we did.”

“And of course you and your superiors benefited,” Frade said seriously.