The Honor of Spies (Honor Bound 5)

“Alice, would you ask Colonel Raymond to come in, please?”

Graham rummaged in his desk drawer and came up with a book of matches.

Raymond appeared almost instantly at the door. Alice stood behind him.

“Sir?”

“Colonel, can you assure me that there are no copies of this message in some file cabinet—or anywhere else—at Vint Hill Farms Station?”

“Yes, sir, I can.”

“There will be a brief reply to this one. Alice, please write this down—not in shorthand—so that Colonel Raymond can take it back to Vint Hill, send it, and then burn it—repeat burn it.”

“Yes, sir,” Alice said.

“ ‘Pinocchio did not lie. Princeton didn’t think you are as smart as you are. Use your best judgment. Keep me advised. Graham, Colonel, USMCR.’ Read it back, please, Alice.”

She did so.

“Now give it to Colonel Raymond to make sure he can read your writing.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I can read it fine, sir,” Raymond said a moment later.

“Get that out immediately when you get back to Vint Hill Station, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That will be all, then, Colonel. Thank you.”

“Yes, sir,” Raymond said, came to attention, and saluted. Graham returned it. Raymond did a crisp about-face and marched out of the office.

When he was gone, Graham said, “Now that it’s a done deed, I will listen to your comments.”

“I don’t think you had any other choice,” Dulles said. “At the moment, we have absolutely no control over what Frade will do or won’t do, even if we knew what to tell him to do.”

“Great minds take similar paths,” Graham said. Then he struck a match and, holding Frade’s message to him over his wastebasket, set the message on fire.

[FIVE]

Casa Montagna

Estancia Don Guillermo

Km 40.4, Provincial Route 60

Mendoza Province, Argentina

1650 3 October 1943

Mother Superior had made it plain that she regarded Clete Frade’s treatment of the mother of his unborn child as the despicable behavior to be expected of someone who had obviously inherited his father’s insanity. But, aside from that, Mother Superior had been so cooperative that Clete suspected she had been given her marching orders from whoever in the hierarchy of Holy Mother Church had the authority to order a Mother Superior around.

One of the most important things she had done was to calm Señora Möller and Señora Körtig—and, as important, the children. She spoke fluent German, which made things easier.

“The first thing we have to do,” Mother Superior told them, “is get you to speak Spanish, and the best way to do that, of course, is to get you in school. We run a bus up here every morning to take the children who live here to our school. It’s inside the convent. And then, of course, it brings them home after school. Is there any reason, Don Cletus, they couldn’t do that tomorrow?”

Frade thought, Translation: Would it be safe to do that?