"Maybe?"

"I won't know if he'll be willing to take the chance until I ask him," Cronley said simply. "So the question is, where can I find, just over the Hesse/Thuringia border, a suitable field near a suitable country road? I don't have a clue, but I think Colonel Wilson will not only be able to get this information for me, but have other helpful suggestions to make.

"Or he may not. He may decide to pick up the phone and call Mattingly and say, 'You won't believe what Loose Cannon Cronley's up to.'

"You're going to take that risk?"

Cronley didn't reply directly, instead replying, "Mannberg has a saying, 'Whenever you really want to trust your intuition, don't.' In this case, I'm going to trust my intuition about Colonel Wilson. I don't see where I have any choice."

"Where is this Colonel Wilson? At Sonthofen?"

"Yeah. It's about a hundred miles, a hundred and fifty kilometers, from Munich. Take me about an hour to get there."

"And then you're coming back here?"

"If there's enough time, I'll go out to Kloster Grnau. I want to keep the Storch out of sight as much as possible."

"Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me."

Fifteen minutes later, as he began his climb-out from Schleissheim, he realized that as he climbed into the Storch, Miss Colbert had repeated the same words she had said to him in the Kapitn.

And he concluded that the repet.i.tion had not been either coincidental or innocent.

IX.

[ONE].

U.S. Army Airfield B-6 Sonthofen, Bavaria American Zone of Occupation, Germany 1320 16 January 1946 Ground Control had ordered Army Seven-Oh-Seven-Cronley's Storch-to take Taxiway Three Left to the Transient parking area, but before he got there, a checkerboard-painted Follow me jeep pulled in front of him, and the driver frantically gestured for Cronley to follow him.

He did so and was led to a hangar, where a sergeant signaled him to cut his engine, and then half a dozen GIs pushed the Storch into the hangar and closed the doors once it was inside.

Lieutenant Colonel William W. Wilson appeared, and stood, hands on his hips, looking at the Storch.

Cronley climbed down from the airplane.

"Good afternoon, Colonel," he said.

"You're not going to salute?"

"I'm a civilian today," Cronley said, pointing to the triangles. "Civilians don't salute."

"They're not supposed to fly around in aircraft the Air Corps has grounded as unsafe, either," Wilson said.

"Are you going to turn me in?"

"No, but I am going to ask what the h.e.l.l you're doing here?"

"I need a large favor and some advice."

"You picked a lousy time."

"I saw all the frantic activity. What's up, an IG inspection?"

"Worse, much worse," Wilson said. "Well, let's go somewhere where no one will be able to see me talking to you."

He led Cronley to a small office he'd been to before, the day Wilson had turned the Storchs over to him, and then waved him into a chair.

"Okay. What sort of advice are you looking for?"

Cronley didn't reply, instead handing Wilson his DCI credentials.

"Okay," Wilson said, after examining them and handing them back. "Colonel Mattingly told me about this, but I am nevertheless touched that you're sharing this with me. And, of course, am suitably impressed with your new importance."

"I'm not important, but what I need your advice about is very important."

"And highly cla.s.sified? I shouldn't tell anybody about this little chat?"

"Especially not Colonel Robert Mattingly."

"Sorry, Cronley. I can't permit you to tell me to whom I may or may not tell anything I want. And that especially includes Colonel Robert Mattingly, who is, you may recall, both a friend and the deputy chief of CIC-Europe. Is our conversation over?"

"No. I'll have to take a chance on your good judgment."

"You'll have to take a chance on my good judgment?" Wilson parroted softly.

"Right."

"I can't wait to hear this."

"I am in the process of getting the wife and children of NKGB Colonel Sergei Likharev out of Russia and to Argentina."

"That must be an interesting task. Who is Colonel Whatsisname and why are you being so nice to him?"

"One of Tiny's Troopers caught him sneaking out of Kloster Grnau . . ." Cronley began the story, and finished up, ". . . whom we have reason to believe are now in Poland."

"And how much of this does good ol' Bob Mattingly know?"

"More, I'm sure, than I like. But not everything."

"And Hank Wallace?"

"He knows just about everything."

"And you don't think he's going to share it with ol' Bob?"

"I don't think he will."

"Did you tell him not to? Ask him not to?"

"I did."

"And he agreed?"

"Yes, he did."

"Now how do you envision my role in this cloak-and-dagger enterprise?"

Cronley told him.

When he had finished, Wilson said, "Oddly enough, I was up there several days ago. What used to be the Fourteenth Armored Cavalry Regiment and is now the Fourteenth Constabulary Regiment is stationed in Fritzlar. While I was there, very carefully avoiding any intrusion into the air s.p.a.ce of Thuringia State, I flew the border. I wasn't looking for them, of course, but I saw a number of places into which I believe one could put an aircraft such as a Storch."

"Could you mark them on a map for me?"

"I'll do better than that," Wilson said. "At first light tomorrow, an L-4 aircraft attached to the Fourteenth Constab will fly the border and take pictures of fields in Thuringia which look suitable for what you propose."

"Thank you," Cronley said.

"Always willing to do what I can for a n.o.ble cause," Wilson said.

"And will you tell me, teach me, what you know about doing something like this?"

"That will depend on whether General White tells me whether I can or not."

"Isn't he in the States? At Fort Leavenworth?"

"He was in the States at Fort Riley, the Cavalry School. Right now, he's somewhere en route here-the route being Washington-Gander, Newfoundland-Prestwick, Scotland-Rhine-Main-where he is tentatively scheduled to land at ten tomorrow morning."

"I didn't know that."

"Not many people do. I didn't even tell good ol' Bob Mattingly when my spies told me. What is important is the moment General White sets foot in Germany, he becomes commanding general of the United States Constabulary. When that happens, I don't do anything without his specific permission. Especially something like this."

"When is he coming here?"

"First, he has to make his manners to General Eisenhower, or General Smith, or General Clay-or all three. When that's done, he can get on his train and come to Sonthofen."

"His train? He's coming here by train? When does he get here? Can you get me in to see him?"

"Tranquillity, reflection, and great patience, I am told, are the hallmarks of the successful intelligence officer," Wilson said. "Slow down."

"Yes, sir."

"Better."

"Yes, he's coming by train. When Generals Eisenhower, Smith, Clay, and other senior bra.s.s were a.s.signed private trains, it looked like the rest of the private trains would be doled out to other deserving general officers before General White returned from Fort Riley to a.s.sume command of the Constab and he wouldn't get one.

"That, of course, was an unacceptable situation for those of us who devotedly serve General White. So one of the as-yet-una.s.signed private trains was spirited away to Bad Nauheim and parked on the protected siding where Hitler used to park his private train. It was suitably decorated with Constabulary insignia, but kept out of sight until now. It is scheduled to leave Bad Nauheim at 0700 tomorrow for the Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof, where it will be ready for him when the aforementioned senior officers are through with him."

"Then he is coming here. Back to my question, when he gets here, can you get me in to see him?"

"Simple answer, no. In addition to his pals and cronies who will meet the plane at Rhine-Main, all of the senior officers of the Constabulary, and its most senior non-commissioned officers, will be lining the corridors here to make their manners to General White."

"I've got to get him to tell you you can help me."

"You are aware of the relationship between Captain Dunwiddie and the general?"

"I am."

"My suggestion: Load Captain Dunwiddie on a Storch and fly him to Rhine-Main first thing in the morning. General White will be delighted to see him, and the odds are he will invite Captain Dunwiddie to ride the train with him from Frankfurt here. Although it will be crowded by many of General White's legion of admirers, including me, I'm sure there would still be room for the pilot who had flown Tiny to meet his Uncle Isaac. And if you get lucky, maybe you could get the general's undivided attention for a half hour or so to make your pitch. How much of this does Tiny know?"

"Everything."

"Smart move."

"Thank you," Cronley said. "I don't mean for that, for everything."

"Mr. Cronley, Hotshot Billy Wilson is really not the unmitigated three-star sonofab.i.t.c.h most would have you believe he is."

[TWO].

Suite 507 Hotel Vier Jahreszeiten Maximilianstra.s.se 178 Munich, American Zone of Occupation, Germany 1735 16 January 1946 "Twenty-third CIC, Miss Colbert speaking."

"Miss Colbert, this is Captain Cronley."

"Yes, sir?"

"Is Mr. Hessinger or Major Wallace there?"

"No, sir. They left about five minutes ago. There's a Tex-Mex dinner dance at the Munich Engineer Officers' Club. They won't be back until very late. Is there anything I can do for you?"