It became obvious in the next fifteen minutes that, in addition to being able to perform any medical procedure with the exception of opening the cranial cavity, SFC Doc Jensen was a soldier-type soldier.

There were Congolese soldiers standing in front of the vehicles Charley Willard had been unwilling to part with. They came to attention when they saw Jensen coming.

She examined the vehicles casually.

"They seem to be in good shape, Doc," she said.

"You should have seen them when I got here," he said. "They were really in shi-bad shape. Hoare's ass-mercenaries either didn't know to maintain a vehicle, or didn't care."

Jose Whatsisname, whose name turned out to be Elias Sanchez, was, so to speak, at the other end of the social spectrum. He- like many of the other B-26 and T-28 pilots-had been an officer in the pre-Castro Cuban Air Force.

He was now wearing the uniform of a Congolese lieutenant colonel. He was, Cecilia decided, of mixed blood. Like herself, he had long hair, and he was almost as dark as she was. Not as dark as Lunsford or Doc Jensen, but dark.

And it was obvious that he was torn between relief at being out from under Charley Willard's orders and deep Latin macho concern at now being under the orders of a woman. The being-under-her -orders part bothered him, not the woman. He lost no time as he showed her his flight line, before turning on a warm smile and hoping that she would be free to join him for dinner at the officers' mess.

"Well, I'm sorry, but Colonel Dahdi and I already have plans," she said.

"Good try, Jose," Father said.

Their final stop was the hangar in which Major Anderson had seen the flat-black L-19 and what he mistakenly thought were Congolese working on it. There she met Major Darrell J. Smythe and the three suddenly-recruited-from-Fort-Rucker aircraft mechanics. Smythe, Lunsford told her, was going to provide what they called "radio cover" for the outposts to be established at Luluabourg, flying over them on a staggered schedule to receive the intelligence gathered by Colonel Supo's agents and passed to the trackers, and finally radioed to the L-19 by the ASA people with the mixed A Teams on the ground.

His interest in seeing the L-19 was perfectly maintained was understandable, Cecilia thought. If the engine failed and the L-19 went down in the trackless bush, that would be the end of Major Smythe.

Smythe's respect for Lunsford was obvious.

Barefoot Boy is obviously a special type of man.

Watch it, Cecilia. The last thing you want to do, for a long list of reasons, is get emotionally involved with Major George Washington "Father" Lunsford.

"I'll come by here at about eight and pick you up," Father said to Cecilia as they sat in the jeep outside the VIP house. "You just tell the houseboys what you want for breakfast, and when."

"That would be fine," she said.

"Unless you'd like to have breakfast with us-Aunt Jemima, Jose, and Doc-in the mess," he said.

"That sounds even better," she said.

"Then I'll pick you up about quarter past seven?"

"Fine."

"Is that where you planned to have dinner? The mess?" she asked.

He took her meaning.

"Good question," he said. "I can't go there, can I? Jose Whatsisname will know we didn't really have plans. No problem. I'll find something."

"Would there be enough food in the house for both of us?"

"Sure."

"Then we'll have dinner here."

"You sure you want to do that?"

"We have an understanding, don't we? Our relationship will be professional, period?"

"That's bullshit and you know it," Father said.

"My, we do talk dirty, don't we, Major?"

"I'm not very good at this game," Lunsford said. "I don't understand women, and never have. I can usually tell when men are lying to me, but I'm not good at that with women, and especially not with you."

"What have I said that makes you wonder if I'm lying?"

"I just told you," he said. "With that professional relationship, period, bullshit."

"It would be an enormous mistake for both of us to get involved, " she said.

"We're not talking about enormous mistakes," Father said. "We're talking about do you want to, or not."

"Want to what or not?"

"Shit, there you go again. You know goddamn well what I'm talking about."

She met his eyes but said nothing.

"I suppose the bottom line is that I'm pretty stupid," he said. "I just can't understand how you can drive me crazy, and the only reaction I get from you is that I'm a soldier who talks dirty."

"I drive you crazy?"

"When Jose Whatsisname came on to you, I wanted to slit his throat," Father said.

That "slit his throat," Cecilia decided, Cecilia decided, is not a figure of speech. is not a figure of speech. "I can only repeat that it would be an enormous mistake for us to become involved," Cecilia said. "I can only repeat that it would be an enormous mistake for us to become involved," Cecilia said.

"How the hell would we know that until we do?" Father asked. "Do you always go by the goddamned book? Don't you ever take a chance? For Christ's sake, for all you know we could be the greatest goddamned thing since sliced bread!"

She looked at him without speaking, got out of the jeep, and turned to look at him again.

He was sitting, both hands on the steering wheel, looking straight ahead.

She turned and walked onto the verandah, and there thought of something to say.

"George, come on in the house," she called.

"What?"

"I said, 'George, come on in the house,' " she said. "I am not going to call you 'Father.' "

By the time he got in the house, she was in the corridor, looking into the dining room. She did not turn when she heard him walk up behind her.

"What now?" she asked.

"Well, we could open that bottle of champagne-it's probably still cold-and sit in there or in the living room and make small talk, or we could take that bottle into the bedroom."

She turned around and snapped, furiously, "Did you really think you were going to walk in here and jump in my bed? Just like that?"

"I didn't know," he said. "It was worth asking. And when you think about it, what's wrong with it? I don't think you play by other people's rules anymore than I do. And, Jesus Christ, I've never wanted anything more in my life."

I should slap his face and tell him to get the hell out of here.

She looked into his eyes.

"If that was over the line," he said, "and looking at your eyes, I guess it is, it's because I don't know where the goddamn line is."

She reached up and touched his cheek. He stiffened but made no other move.

"Give me five minutes," Cecilia heard herself saying. "I need a shower. And then bring the champagne."

"I need a shower, too," he said.

"You're not actually suggesting we take one together?" she asked incredulously.

"Why not?"

My God, I'm out of my mind!

In for a penny, in for a pound.

She took her hand from his cheek, found his hand at his side, and took it, and led him down the corridor to her bedroom.

XXIV.

[ ONE ].

SECRET.

HELP0039 2220 ZULU 14 MAY 1965.

VIA WHITE HOUSE SIGNAL AGENCY.

FROM: HELPER SIX.

TO: EARNEST SIX.

SITUATION REPORT #37.

REFERENCE MAP BAKER 111. EARS ONE RELAYED INTEL FROM SUPO'S SOURCES AT LULUABOURG POSITIVELY LOCATING GUEVERA, DREKE AND BULK OF CUBANS AT NEW CAMP SET UP ON LULUABOURG PLATEAU APPROXIMATELY FIVE (5) KILOMETERS FROM KIMBARA. COORDINATES 65545/23009. HEREAFTER LULUPLAT.2. SAME SOURCE REPORTS GUEVERA ILL, PROBABLY SUFFERING FROM TROPICAL FEVER OF SOME KIND, WHICH MAY EXPLAIN CUBAN MOVEMENT TO LULUPLAT, WHICH IS 5,000 FEET ABOVE MAIN SEA LEVEL, COOLER, LESS HUMID, AND LESS INSECT INFESTED.HELPER SIXSECRET [ TWO ].

TOP SECRET.

1920 GREENWICH 16 MAY 1965.

FROM STATION CHIEF, BUENOS AIRES.

TO DIRECTOR, CIA, LANGLEY.

COPIES TO SOUTH AMERICAN DESK.

MR SANFORD T FELTER, COUNSELOR TO THE PRESIDENT THE EXECUTIVE OFFICE BUILDING WASHINGTON.

THE FOLLOWING RECEIVED FROM US ARMY OFFICER ASSIGNED US EMBASSY BELIEVED TO BE CONTROLLED BY MR. FELTER. IT IS RECOMMENDED THE INTELLIGENCE FOLLOWING BE REGARDED AS THE EQUIVALENT OF CIA RELIABILITY SCALE FIVE. IT IS TRANSMITTED IN ITS ENTIRETY AND VERBATIM.

START.

DEAR FRIENDS:.

IT WAS LEARNED TODAY THAT AS A RESULT OF HAVING LEARNED THAT SEnORA CELIA DE LA SERNA DE GUEVARA'S SON IS DR. ERNESTO GUEVARA, THE AUTHORITIES OF THE STAPLER CLINIC INFORMED HER FAMILY THEY NO LONGER WISHED TO PROVIDE MEDICAL SERVICE TO HER, AND SHE HAS BEEN TRANSFERRED TEMPORARILY TO THE ENGLISH HOSPITAL BUENOS AIRES WHILE OTHER HOSPITAL ACCOMMODATIONS CAN BE FOUND. HER PROGNOSIS REMAINS GRAVE WITH DEATH POSSIBLY IN LESS THAN A WEEK.

BEFORE GOD AND ON MY HONOR AS AN OFFICER, I SWEAR TO YOU THAT NO ONE YOU MET IN ARGENTINA OR KNOWN TO ME WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS DESPICABLE ACTION ON THE PART OF THE STAPLER CLINIC. AN INITIAL INVESTIGATION SUGGESTS THAT CERTAIN SENIOR PERSONNEL CONNECTED WITH THE STAPLER CLINIC ARE REFUGEES FROM EAST GERMANY, AND THEIR HATRED FOR ALL THINGS COMMUNIST MUST HAVE OVERWHELMED THEIR SENSES OF COMMON DECENCY.

With reference to the argentine/east german haydee tamara bunke, "tania": we were informed by our mutual german friend that she had been located in east berlin, and was traced to havana. WE HAVE LEARNED THAT SHE WAS LAST WEEK SENT, USING A URUGUAYAN PASSPORT IN HER OWN NAME, TO LA PAZ, BOLIVIA, TO SERVE AS A DEEP COVER AGENT IN PLACE FOR ACTIVATION WHEN DR. GUEVARA BEGINS TO LIBERATE SOUTH AMERICA. THIS STRONGLY SUGGESTS TO ME THAT HE PLANS TO BEGIN IN BOLIVIA. IF THIS INFORMATION BECOMES KNOWN TO BOLIVIAN AUTHORITIES, IT IS BELIEVED TANIA WILL BE IMMEDIATELY TERMINATED, AND THEREFORE THE BOLIVIAN GOVERNMENT HAS NOT REPEAT HAS NOT BEEN GIVEN THIS INTELLIGENCE.

BEST REGARDS.

END.

J.P STEPHENS.

STATION CHIEF BUENOS AIRES.

TOP SECRET.