So how do I get him to tell me?

I don't have a f.u.c.king clue.

"Or I could stay here and drink my supper and have Kurt Schrder fly you to Frankfurt."

"No."

"He's a much better Storch pilot than I am, El Jefe," Cronley said. "He flew General Gehlen and Ludwig Mannberg all over Russia."

"You're going to fly me to Frankfurt. Period."

"Yes, sir."

[THREE].

Office of the Chief, Counterintelligence Corps Headquarters, European Command The I.G. Farben Building Frankfurt am Main American Zone of Occupation, Germany 1135 16 January 1946 "Well, Colonel Ashton," General Greene said, coming from behind his desk as Cronley pushed Ashton's wheelchair into his office, "I'm really glad to see you. I was getting a little worried."

"Sir?"

Greene looked at his wrist.w.a.tch.

"In twenty-five minutes, we're having lunch with General Smith. He is big on punctuality. You cut it pretty short."

"I didn't know about the lunch," Ashton said.

"You must be Lieutenant Schultz," Greene said, offering his hand. "Admiral Souers speaks very highly of you."

"That's very kind of the admiral," Schultz said.

Greene looked at Cronley, said, "Cronley," but did not offer his hand.

"This is Colonel Mattingly, my deputy," Greene said.

Schultz, Ashton, and Mattingly shook hands. Mattingly ignored Cronley.

"I understand that you met my CIC chief in Vienna," Greene said. "Colonel Stevens?"

Cronley thought, Well, it didn't take Greene long to hear about that, did it?

"We had a visit from the CIC in Vienna, but I didn't get his name," Schultz said.

"What was that about?"

"Apparently one of the hotel managers heard two of my people speaking Russian, and turned us in as suspicious characters."

"He didn't say what you were doing in Vienna."

"I didn't tell him," Schultz said.

"So he said. He also said that one of his agents knew Cronley."

"As I understand that," Schultz said, "they were apparently in CIC school together."

"Where they were students in Major Derwin's cla.s.s on Techniques of Surveillance," General Greene said. "Which brings us, Cronley, to Major Derwin."

"Sir?"

"Major Derwin wants to talk to you."

What the h.e.l.l for?

"Yes, sir?"

"He didn't tell me why, but he said he'd like to do so as soon as possible. What about today?"

"Not today, sir. As soon as I load these gentlemen onto the Buenos Aires flight, I have to get back to Munich."

"Well, when can I tell the major you will have time for him?"

"Sir, just about anytime after I get back to Munich. Anytime tomorrow."

"What's so important, Cronley," Colonel Mattingly demanded, "that you have to get back to Munich today? You don't actually expect Major Derwin to come to Munich to ask you what he wants to ask you, do you?"

"Colonel, if Major Derwin wants to ask me anything, I'll be in Munich," Cronley said.

General Greene, before Mattingly could reply to that, said, "Why don't we head for the generals' mess? It's always wiser to be earlier for an appointment with a general than late."

"Colonel Ashton," Cronley asked, "would it be all right if I waited for you and Lieutenant Schultz here after I get a sandwich in the snack bar?"

"Certainly."

"The guest list I got from General Smith's aide has you on it, Cronley," General Greene said. "You, Colonel Ashton, Lieutenant Schultz, and me."

Oh, so that's why Mattingly's p.i.s.sed. He didn't get invited to break bread with Beetle Smith and I did.

That should delight me. But it doesn't.

I suppose I really am afraid of Colonel Robert Mattingly.

[FOUR].

The General Officers' Mess The I.G. Farben Building Frankfurt am Main American Zone of Occupation, Germany 1159 16 January 1946 General Walter Bedell Smith, trailed by his aide-de-camp, a full colonel, marched into the general officers' mess, where General Greene, Ashton, Schultz, and Cronley were standing waiting for him just inside the door.

"Homer, why don't you check inside and see everything's set up, and then catch a sandwich or something while we eat? This is one of those top secret lunches behind a curtain one hears about, and you're not invited."

"Not a problem, General," the aide said, smiling, and went into the dining room.

"How are you, Paul?" Smith asked General Greene.

"Holding up under difficult circ.u.mstances, General."

"Welcome to the club, General."

Smith turned to Cronley.

"How are you, son? And how's our midget friend holding up?"

He means Tiny.

"Very well, sir. Tiny's holding the fort up in Munich."

"I'm Walter Smith, Colonel," Smith said to Ashton. "I guess you're the one I should have asked how he's holding up."

"I'm all right, sir. Thank you."

"And you," Smith said to Schultz, "by the process of elimination, must be 'the chief'?"

"Some people still call me that, General," Schultz said.

"Including Admiral Souers," Smith said. "He tells me you two are old shipmates?"

Cronley had never heard that before.

Why not?

"Yes, sir. That's true."

"Actually, when he told me he was sending you to Europe, I thought I heard an implication that there is more to your relationship than just being old shipmates."

Schultz seemed to be framing his reply when he saw he didn't have to. General Smith's aide was walking quickly back across the room to them.

"All set up, sir."

"Thanks, Homer. See you in forty-five minutes. Wait a minute. You're going to Buenos Aires today, right? How are you going to get out to Rhine-Main?"

From the look on General Greene's face, this was news-surprising news-to him, but he reacted quickly to it: "I'll send them in one of my cars, General," he said.

"Homer, lay on a Packard for these gentlemen," General Smith said. "If there's no spare, use mine."

"Yes, sir."

"General, that's not necessary," Schultz said.

"I understand that chiefs feel free to argue with admirals, Chief, but please don't argue with a general. A wounded warrior and the executive a.s.sistant to the director of Central Intelligence deserve no less than one of our Packards. Do it, Homer."

"Yes, sir."

What did he call El Jefe? "The executive a.s.sistant to the director of Central Intelligence"?

And Greene's face showed he had never heard that before, either.

Smith took El Jefe's arm and led him across the dining room.

"We'll be in Ike's dining room," he said. "Ike's in Berlin."

Ike's dining room turned out to be an alcove off the main room, the windows of which provided a panoramic view of the bombed-out ruins of buildings as far as the eye could see.

There was a table, now set at one end for five, but capable, Cronley guessed, of seating ten, maybe a dozen people comfortably.

Smith stood behind the chair at the head of the table, and indicated where the others were to sit. El Jefe and General Greene were seated close to Smith, and Cronley found himself seated across from Ashton.

A waiter in a starched white jacket appeared. Cronley guessed he was a sergeant.

"There will be no menus today," General Smith announced. "I'm really pressed for time. Anybody who doesn't like a steak, medium rare, a baked potato, and green beans is out of luck. Charley, serve the food and then draw the curtain and make sure we're not interrupted."

"Yes, sir," the waiter said.

Serving the food and putting two silver coffee services on the table took very little time.

"Okay," General Smith said. "General Eisenhower really wanted to be here today, but our Russian friends in Berlin are being difficult. And the reason he wanted to be here-and the reason he asked Admiral Souers to send someone senior over here-is because he wanted to hear from someone who knows what's really going on with Operation Ost. More precisely, he's concerned about the level of threat of exposure. And since there is, I devoutly hope, no paper trail, that will have to be word of mouth. And I think we should start by hearing the opinion of the junior officer involved. Captain Cronley."

s.h.i.t!

Cronley stood up.

"Sir-"

"Sit down, please," General Smith said, "and tell me the first thing that comes to your mind vis--vis Operation Ost being compromised."

Oh, what the h.e.l.l. When in doubt, tell the truth.

"Sir, the first thing that comes to my mind is that we just started to make a paper trail."