"Thank you, Mr. Zammoro. I believe you are next senior, Lieutenant Portet?"

"Yes, sir," Jack said. "I agree with Mr. Zammoro, sir."

"Captain Zabrewski?"

"I agree with Mr. Zammoro and Lieutenant Portet, sir."

Hanrahan turned and rapped his knuckles on his desk.

"The board approves. Let the record show the decision was unanimous."

"Yes, sir," Captain Zabrewski said.

"If you'll take one step forward, Mr. de la Santiago, I will now enlist you into the United States Army," General Hanrahan said.

[ FOUR ].

SECRET SECRETCentral Intelligence Agency Langley, VirginiaFROM: Assistant Director For Administration Assistant Director For AdministrationFROM: 2 January 1965 1805 GMT 2 January 1965 1805 GMTSUBJECT : Guevara, Ernesto (Memorandum #11.) Guevara, Ernesto (Memorandum #11.) TO: Mr. Sanford T. Felter Mr. Sanford T. Felter Counselor To The President Room 637, The Executive Office Building Washington, D.C.By CourierIn compliance with Presidential Memorandum to The Director, Subject: "Ernesto 'Che' Guevara", dated 14 December 1964, the following information is furnished:1. (Reliability Scale Three) (From CIA Sources in Bamako, Mali). SUBJECT spent New Year's Eve in the Cuban Embassy in Bamako. No other information is available.

Howard W. O'Connor HOWARD W. O'CONNORSECRET [ FIVE ].

Ezeiza International Airport Buenos Aires, Argentina 1130 3 January 1965 When the Aerolineas Argentina Flight 9790, a Boeing 707, landed, completing its nonstop flight from Miami, it taxied close to the terminal and shut down. Two stairways mounted on Chevrolet trucks drove up to the aircraft as the doors were opened. A black Ford Falcon drove up, and a tall, rather sturdy-looking man in a well-cut suit got out. As soon as the forward stairway was in place, he went up it and entered the airplane. Sixty seconds later, he came down the stairway and got back in the Falcon, which immediately drove to the terminal building.

A train of baggage carts rolled up to the aircraft, as did two passenger buses. The passengers began to deplane as the luggage was unloaded.

The first-class passengers were disembarked first, the idea being this would give them first shot at the limited seats available on the buses for the five-hundred-meter trip to the terminal. The fifth and sixth first-class passengers to come down the stairway were a tall white man and a stocky black man, both wearing tweed sport coats, open-necked polo shirts, gray flannel slacks, and loafers.

As they had gotten on the bus first, they had to wait, at the terminal, for the standees to get off first; they were the last two passengers to get off their bus.

As they entered the terminal, the sturdy-looking man who had been aboard the 707 stepped in front of the tall white man and smiled.

"Colonel Lowell?" he asked.

"That's right."

"A sus ordenes, mi coronel," the man said. "General Pistarini has asked me to assist you in passing through Customs and Immigration. " the man said. "General Pistarini has asked me to assist you in passing through Customs and Immigration. "

"How very kind of him," Lowell said. "This is Major Lunsford."

"I am very pleased to meet you, Major," the sturdy-looking man said, and gave Lunsford his hand. He did not volunteer his own name.

"If you'll be kind enough to give me your baggage checks, we can be on our way. Your luggage will follow whenever this inefficient system of ours finally gets it off the aircraft."

Lowell and Lunsford handed him their baggage checks.

The sturdy man snapped his fingers, and another well-dressed man appeared, neither as sturdy nor as tall. The sturdy man handed him the baggage checks and then, smiling, motioned for Lowell and Lunsford to precede him toward a row of booths, behind which sat officers of the Immigration Service of the Republic of Argentina.

"May I have your passports, please?" the sturdy man asked, and Lowell and Lunsford handed them over. The sturdy man handed them to an Immigration officer. It took him only long enough to find blank pages to stamp before he said, "Welcome to Argentina," and waved them through.

The sturdy man led them into the reception area of the airport, where people gathered to meet incoming passengers. Among these was a U.S. Air Force major, holding a sign reading, LT. COL. LOWELL.

"Just a second, please," Lowell said to the sturdy man, and walked up to the major holding the sign.

"My name is Lowell, Major," he said.

"Major Daley, Colonel. Colonel McGrory sent me to meet you and Major Lunsford."

"Colonel who?"

"Colonel McGrory, sir. The defense attache."

"What happened to Colonel Harris?"

"Colonel Harris is the army army attache, Colonel. This is an Air Force post. Colonel McGrory is the attache, Colonel. This is an Air Force post. Colonel McGrory is the defense defense attache." attache."

"Please tell Colonel McGrory I very much appreciate his courtesy in sending you out here, Major, and tell him that I hope he can find time to see me while I'm in Argentina."

"Sir, Colonel McGrory asked me to take you to your quarters, and then bring you to report to him."

"To report report to him, you said, Major?" to him, you said, Major?"

"Yes, sir."

"Please tell Colonel McGrory I hope he can find time for me to pay him a courtesy call while I'm in Argentina," Lowell said. "And I'm sorry you wasted your time coming out here, Major."

He walked back to the sturdy man, who led him outside the terminal where three cars, two Ford Falcons and a black Buick, were parked in an area clearly marked FOR TAXIS ONLY.

The sturdy man opened the rear door of the Buick and smilingly motioned for Lowell and Lunsford to get in, and when they had, got in the front seat. The Buick pulled away from the terminal. One of the Falcons followed.

Neither car even slowed when they came to the tollbooths for the airfield parking lot.

The sturdy man in the front turned.

"General Pistarini regrets, mi coronel, mi coronel," he said, "that he was unable to meet you himself. The press of duty . . ."

"I understand, of course," Lowell said. "We have reservations at a hotel called the Plaza."

For the first time, the sturdy man frowned.

"The general has arranged accommodation for you and the major, mi coronel, mi coronel, in the Circulo Militar. Will that be a problem?" in the Circulo Militar. Will that be a problem?"

"The general's hospitality is overwhelming," Lowell said.

"And our baggage will be going there, right?" Father Lunsford asked.

"It should be there within the hour," the sturdy man said. "And there is no problem about your staying at the Circulo Militar?"

"I'm looking forward to it," Lowell said.

It was a forty-five-minute trip through traffic to downtown Buenos Aires.

"This is Plaza San Martin, mi coronel, mi coronel," the sturdy man said. "We will pass the Foreign Ministry, on our left, and then come to the Circulo Militar. The building directly ahead is the Circulo Militar."

He pointed to an enormous, French-style building, with a fifty-foot -tall, heavily gilded cast-iron double gate. Two soldiers, in field gear, armed with automatic rifles, stood guard.

Actual guards, both Lunsford and Lowell decided at about the same moment. both Lunsford and Lowell decided at about the same moment. Those rifles are not ceremonial. Those rifles are not ceremonial.

"Beautiful building," Lowell said.

"It was given to the Army in the early years of the century by the family who owns La Nacion, La Nacion, our major daily newspaper." our major daily newspaper."

"How interesting," Lowell said.

"The Plaza Hotel, mi coronel, mi coronel, is on the far side of the Plaza," the sturdy man said, and pointed. is on the far side of the Plaza," the sturdy man said, and pointed.

They came close to the Circulo Militar. The huge gates swung inward, and in a moment Lowell saw that they had been pulled open by two men in white jackets. The soldiers with the automatic rifles unslung them, came to attention, and held the rifles stiffly in front of them, in a maneuver not unlike Present Arms in the U.S. Army Manual of Arms, U.S. Army Manual of Arms, as the Buick rolled through the gates. as the Buick rolled through the gates.

One of the white-jacketed men walked quickly to the car and opened the rear door.

Lowell and Lunsford got out.

A tall officer, in a splendidly tailored uniform-brown tunic, Sam Browne belt, pink riding breeches, and glistening riding boots-came out of the building, walked up, came to attention, and saluted.

"Colonel Lowell, Teniente Coronel Ricardo Fosterwood, a sus ordenes. a sus ordenes. I have the honor to be aide-de-camp to Teniente General Pistarini." I have the honor to be aide-de-camp to Teniente General Pistarini."

"How do you do, Colonel? This is Major Lunsford."

They all shook hands.

"Why don't we go inside and get out of this beastly summer heat?" Fosterwood said, and waved them into the building.

Beside a curving marble staircase there was an elevator. There was hardly enough room for the three officers.

Fosterwood apologized for the size of the cramped elevator.

"I have always wondered if the Frenchman who designed this building did so in the belief that Argentines were all dwarfs, or whether he thought we liked to stand really close to ladies in the lift," he said.

The three smiled at each other.

The elevator stopped, and Fosterwood slid the folding door open, then motioned them outside. He led them down a wide corridor, opened the left half of a huge, massive, heavily carved door, and waved them through it.

"I took the liberty of placing the major in one of the bedrooms in this suite," Fosterwood said as he came into the elegantly furnished living room of the suite. "It would be no trouble at all to arrange-"

"I'm sure that Major Lunsford will be completely comfortable here," Lowell said.

"General Pistarini has ordered me, as our first order of business, to go through a custom he said he learned at your Fort Knox while on a visit there. 'Cutting the dust of the trail'?"

"One of our most sacred customs," Lowell said.

Fosterwood bowed them through another door. It turned out to be a bar, with a white-jacketed bartender in attendance.

"And I believe bourbon whiskey is the dust-cutter of choice?"

"Actually," Lowell began, stopped, and then went on. "Actually, two things. I'm a scotch drinker, and actually it's a little early in the day for me to start on anything."

"In that case, let me introduce you to an Argentine custom," Fosterwood said. "We say it's never too early, or too late, to have a glass of champagne."

"We of the infantry say the same thing," Lunsford said.

"I think we'll find French champagne and Argentine," Fosterwood said.

"Argentine, if you will," Lowell said.

The bartender produced a bottle of champagne and glasses.

"To your very pleasant stay in Argentina, mi coronel, mi coronel," Fosterwood said, raising his glass.

"Thank you," Lowell said. "And when would you say it would be convenient for General Pistarini to receive me, so I can offer my thanks for his magnificent hospitality?"

"Odd that you should ask," Fosterwood said. "There is a small problem at the moment, nothing that can't be managed, but bothersome enough that General Pistarini feels he should be at Campo de Mayo until it is resolved. . . ."

"And Campo de Mayo is what?" Lowell asked.

"It's one of our major bases, on the outskirts of Buenos Aires. Our military academy is there, and one of our cavalry regiments."

"I see."

"The General asked me to ask you, if you felt up to it, after your long trip, if you might not like to play a little polo with him this afternoon at Campo de Mayo."

"I'm not really an Argentine-class polo player," Lowell said.

"Oh, this would just be a friendly game between friends," Fosterwood said. "To help pass the time, so to speak."

"I'd be happy to play with the general," Lowell said. "There is the problem of breeches and boots. . . ."

"Not a problem at all. I'm sure we can outfit you with no difficulty. May I tell the general you will join him?"

"How do we get from here to there?" Lowell asked.

"The car, of course, is at your disposal," Fosterwood said.

"The Buick?"

"And the drivers will all speak English. So, mi coronel mi coronel?"