"I have the strangest feeling you are not pulling my chain," Stratford said.

"We're not," Dunwiddie said.

Cronley went on: "Sequence of events. We hear, from the SIGABA aboard the Constellation, when it takes off from Lisbon, when it will arrive in Rhine-Main. I then get in one of our Storches and Kurt gets in the other one. We fly to the airfield at Eschborn . . ."

"I know where it is," Stratford said.

". . . where the ambulance, having been stashed somewhere safe, has gone to meet us-"

"'Stashed somewhere safe'?"

"That's where you come in," Dunwiddie said.

"I get in the ambulance," Cronley continued. "We drive to Rhine-Main. Major Ashton gets in the ambulance. We drive back to Eschborn. We get back in the Storches and take off. The ambulance then departs for where it had been stashed."

"You want me to stash your ambulance for how long?"

Cronley didn't answer.

"Phase two," he said. "Two to four days after that, the Storches fly into Eschborn again. This time they have a pa.s.senger. The pa.s.senger and I get in the ambulance, which has come from its stash place to meet me. We drive to Rhine-Main. The pa.s.senger-who may have a companion, we haven't decided about that yet-gets on an SAA airplane. The ambulance drives me back to Eschborn and the Storches take off. The ambulance drives off, destination Kloster Grnau."

"Who's the pa.s.senger?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

"He is not pulling your chain," Dunwiddie said.

"For how long am I supposed to stash your ambulance?"

"Maybe two ambulances?" Cronley asked. "I am a devout believer in redundancy."

"Two ambulances."

"Thank you," Cronley said. "When I get back to Kloster Grnau, we'll send them to Frankfurt. In other words, from tomorrow until this is over. At least a week. Maybe ten days."

"We've got a relay station outside Frankfurt, in an ex-German kaserne not far from the 97th General Hospital. I could stash your ambulances there in what used to be stables for horse-drawn artillery."

"Thank you," Cronley said again.

- When they came out of the building, intending to join Colonel Bristol and General Gehlen, Technical Sergeant Abraham L. Tedworth rolled up in a jeep. He was heading a convoy. Behind him were three canvas-backed GMC 66 trucks-each towing a trailer-and three jeeps, also towing trailers and with their .50 caliber Browning machine guns now shrouded by canvas covers.

Sergeant Tedworth got out of his jeep. He put his hands on his hips and bellowed at the 66s, "Get your fat a.s.ses out of the trucks and fall in!"

Lieutenant Stratford was visibly impressed as forty black men, the smallest of whom was pushing six feet and two hundred pounds, all armed with Thompson submachine guns, poured out of the trucks and, without further orders, formed four ten-man ranks, came to attention, then performed the Dress Right Dress maneuver.

Sergeant Tedworth took up a position in front of them, did a crisp about-face, and then saluted Cronley, who was by then in position, with First Sergeant Dunwiddie standing the prescribed "one pace to the left, one pace behind" him.

"Sir," Tedworth barked, "First Platoon, Company C, 203rd Tank Destroyer Battalion, reporting for duty, sir."

Cronley returned the salute.

"Welcome, welcome," Cronley said. "At ease, men."

They looked at him curiously.

"I'm sure you all noticed the precision with which First Sergeant Dunwiddie marched up behind me," Cronley said. "This officer"-he pointed to Stratford-"Lieutenant Stratford is responsible. He taught First Sergeant Dunwiddie all he knows about Close Order Drill."

This produced looks of confusion.

"I s.h.i.t you not," Cronley said solemnly.

This produced smiles.

"And after he did that, Lieutenant Stratford taught Rook Dunwiddie, as he was known in those days, how to tie, as well as shine, his boots and other matters of importance to a brand-new soldier."

This produced wide smiles and some laughter.

"He will, I am sure, be happy to explain all this to you as he shows you around your new home," Cronley said. "First Sergeant, take the formation."

Dunwiddie was unable to restrain a smile as he saluted and barked, "Yes, sir."

- Well, that does it, Cronley thought as Dunwiddie started off on what was obviously going to be a familiarization tour of the Pullach compound.

Tiny's Troops are here. The SIGABA is up and running. Those two b.a.s.t.a.r.ds from the Pentagon will shortly arrive. The compound is now open for business.

And Major Ashton will soon be here to take the heavy burden of command from my shoulders.

"Very impressive," Stratford said. "Where did you get them?"

"From General I. D. White," Cronley said. "They were part of the Second Armored Division. And, yes, Lieutenant Stratford, I do know where General White got his commission."

A fresh idea came to his mind.

I'll take Colonel Bristol, General Gehlen, and Lieutenant Stratford to lunch at the Vier Jahreszeiten hotel.

I owe Bristol and Stratford a h.e.l.l of a lot more than a meal, but it will if nothing else show them how grateful I am.

I also can introduce all of them to Major Wallace and Fat Freddy. Excuse me, Special Agent Hessinger. There are self-evident advantages to that for the future.

I will call Hessinger and tell him to come out here with the Opel Kapitn.

h.e.l.l, I'll call Hessinger and tell him to come out here in Major Wallace's Opel Admiral. After all, Bristol is a light bird and Gehlen a former general. Rank hath its privileges, like getting a ride in the biggest car.

The more he thought about it the more it seemed like a good idea, and that it was one more proof he was on a roll.

"I thought we were through in there," Stratford said when he saw Cronley start back into the Military Government Liaison Office building.

"I've got to make a telephone call. Wait here, or come with me."

- "How do these phones work?" Cronley asked Sergeant Mitch.e.l.l. "Phrased another way, is Munich a long-distance call or can I dial a Munich number?"

"You can dial a Munich number," Mitch.e.l.l said, and handed him a mimeographed telephone book.

Cronley found what he was looking for and dialed it.

- "Twenty-Third CIC, Agent Hessinger speaking, sir."

"First let me say how happy I am to find you at your post, and not cavorting shamelessly with some naked blond Frulein . . ."

"Don't tell me where you are," Hessinger said.

"What? Why not?"

"Because the FBI is here, and if they're listening to the telephone, and I think they are, they'll learn where you are and go there."

"The FBI is in your office?"

"No. Not anymore. They were here. They were here at eight o'clock this morning."

"Were there?"

"They left. But there's two of them in the lobby, another in the garage, and I would be surprised if they're not at Schleissheim Army Airfield. So I wouldn't go there, either, if I was you."

"What did they want?"

"You."

"Did they say why?"

"They told Major Wallace it concerned a matter of national security they were not authorized to share with him."

"Let me talk to him."

"He's not here. After he told them to get the f.u.c.k out of his office, and they did, he got in the Admiral and left."

"Where did he go?"

"If I told you that, the FBI would know, too. You can probably guess where he went."

One of two places, Cronley thought.

Either Kloster Grnau to warn me. Or the Farben Building to see Mattingly.

Cronley was silent a moment.

"Freddy, if they've tapped your phone," he said, finally, "the FBI will know you've told me all this."

"So what? They can't do anything about that. If they say anything, they're admitting they tapped this telephone line. They're not authorized to tap it, and I know that, and they know that I know that."

"Under those circ.u.mstances, I suppose I could safely say something myself, couldn't I? Like, 'FBI agent eavesdropping on this private conversation, go f.u.c.k yourself!'"

"That wasn't very smart," Hessinger said.

"No. It was, however, satisfying. And on that cheerful note, I will say goodbye, Special Agent Hessinger."

"No. Not yet. There's more."

"What?"

"Mrs. Colonel Schumann wants her Leica camera back."

"What Leica?"

"The one she says she left in the Kapitn when you took her to the bahnhof to meet her husband the colonel."

"I know nothing about a Leica."

"She says you have to have it. She's so sure you have it that she didn't go to Frankfurt this morning with the colonel. She says she wants it back before she gets on the train to Frankfurt at four-forty."

"She's still at the hotel?"

"Waiting for you to give back her Leica."

That's not what she's waiting for.

"You call Mrs. Schumann, tell her I'm in Berlin, that I don't have her G.o.dd.a.m.ned Leica, and that I will get in touch with her as soon as possible."

"I would rather not do that."

"That wasn't a suggestion."

"Would it bother you if I told you that sometimes I like you less than I do at other times?"

"Not at all. Goodbye, Special Agent Hessinger."

- What I have to do now, obviously, is get General Gehlen back to Kloster Grnau. The one thing I can't afford is the FBI asking him questions.

Tiny will want to get his people settled, and then Kurt Schrder can fly him home.

No. What I have to do first is let Clete know about the G.o.dd.a.m.ned FBI. Then I can get the h.e.l.l out of Dodge.

- "Sergeant Mitch.e.l.l, let me at the keyboard, please," Cronley said, and when Mitch.e.l.l had, he sent: PRIORITY.

TOP SECRET LINDBERGH.

DUPLICATION FORBIDDEN.

FROM BEERMUG.