What about the airplane you found her with? Ettinger asked. "Lieutenant, I don't want to sound like I'm questioning your judgment, but I really would like to put that ship out of action."
The airplane I found her with is my father's Beechcraft stagger-wing. It's a small civilian airplane. I couldn't carry in it more than three or four hundred-pound bombsif I had three or four hundred-pound bombsand I don't think I could hit..."
Then what was Nestor talking about? He said you had some wild idea about torpedoing the Reine de la Mer.
"What I told Nestor was that if he could get me a TBF from Brazil..."
"A what?" Tony asked.
You don't know what a TBF is either?
"A torpedo bomber. A single-engine Navy airplane with a bomb bay that can handle a torpedo.
"They have them in Brazil?"
"We're equipping the Brazilian Navy. It seems logical to me that we'd give them TBFs."
"You could sink the ship if you had one?"
Clete nodded. "Yeah. I think the reason they haven't thought of putting out the Reine de la Mer with one is that they don't have the range to reach here from Brazil."
"You're thinking of refueling it where we were in Uruguay?" Tony asked.
Clete nodded and waited for his reaction.
"Where are we going to get the aviation gas for that?"
Damn, I didn't think of that!
"I don't know. But there is aviation gas in Uruguay, and so are the people who loaned us the walkie-talkies we lost. They can get avgas for me."
Tony nodded.
"Nestor didn't say anything about a torpedo bomber," Ettinger said. "Why is that a wild idea?"
"I don't know," Clete said. "He said something like that had already been considered and rejected by the OSS. I told him I wanted to appeal the order up the chain of command to Colonel Graham. I think I can convince Graham that getting me into a TBF would be the best wayhell, the only way that I can see to put the Reine de la Mer out of action."
"And?" Tony asked.
"He said that was out of the question. I had my orders and I would carry them out. And then I lost my temper, told him I had no intention of committing suicide, and then, I'm sorry to say, I threw him out of the car."
"Lieutenant," Ettinger said carefully, "I can't think of a delicate way to put this.... Did Nestor suggest you were overly concerned with your own skin? Is that why you lost your temper?"
Clete met Ettinger's eyes, then nodded.
"What?" Tony exploded incredulously. "That sonofabitch! You've been in combat. You're an Ace, for Christ's sake, a fucking hero, and he knows that."
"Cowardice is apparently in the eyes of the beholder," Clete said.
Ettinger, recognizing the wordplay, smiled. Tony looked confused.
"Well, fuck him, and his orders," Tony fumed on.
"So what happens now, Lieutenant?" Ettinger asked.
"The only thing I can think of is to keep trying to reach Colonel Graham," Clete said.
"How are you going to do that?" Ettinger asked.
"David, would the Alfred Thomas have a radio capable of communicating withhell, I don't knowsome Navy radio station in Washington? Or with a station that could relay a message to Washington?
Ettinger shrugged doubtfully, but then nodded and smiled.
"It's possible, Lieutenant," he said. "When Admiral Byrd was down in Antarctica, which isn't far from here relatively speaking, he was unable to communicate with the Navy. But there was a radio ham, an amateur in Cedar Rapids, who could talk to him I think on the twenty-meter band. The Navy was very embarrassedI got this story from Mr. Sarnoff at RCAbut they had to swallow their pride and go to this fellow Collins and ask him how he did it. He started a company to build his equipment for the Navy, and it seems logical to assume that the Navy would at least try to equip their vessels in the South Atlantic with such equipment. But I don't understand ..."
"When the destroyer arrives, I'm going aboard. I'll identify myself as a Marine officer and ask her captain to send a message to Colonel Graham."
"And if he doesn't have the right kind of radios, or let you send Colonel Graham a message, then what?" Tony asked.
Clete shrugged. "If you can think of anything else, Tony, I'm wide open to suggestions," Clete said, then turned to Ettinger. "Unless you could set up a radio here?"
Ettinger shook his head no. And then explained: "I don't have the equipment. And I don't think I could find it here. I asked around. Most of their equipment is pretty primitive. And from what I remember about what this fellow Collins used, it required a hell of an antenna. Nothing we could hide; it would attract a good deal of attention. Sorry, Lieutenant."
"It never hurts to ask," Clete said.
"So what do we do now?" Tony asked. "While we're waiting for the destroyer to show up?''
"Try to think of some way to take out an armed merchantman besides using a TBF... or three lonely guys with twenty-odd pounds of explosive," Clete said.
"One thing we absolutely must not do," Ettinger said thoughtfully, "is tell Nestor about this little chat."
"He's the OSS Station Chief," Clete said. "I don't want to put you in the middle of the fight between the two of us."
"I told you before, Clete, that a man can't serve two masters," Ettinger said. "And the oath I swore when I came into the Army was 'to obey the orders of the officers appointed over me.' I don't think Nestor qualifies as an officer, Lieutenant. You do. That's the philosophic argument. What Tony would call the gut reaction is: 'If Lieutenant Frade doesn't trust this man, why should we?' "
"No matter how this turns out, Clete," Tony said, "we're with you. OK? We decided that on the way over here."
Christ, I'm no better than my father. I want to cry.
"Which brings us back to Tony's question," Ettinger said. "What should we do now, Tony and I?"
"Nothing. Unless someone comes to you and tries to order you to commit suicide by trying to take out the Reine de la Mer. This is a direct order, Lieutenant Pelosi: I forbid you to attempt any action against the Reine de la Mer without my specific approval. Clear?"
"Yes, Sir," Tony said.
"If you want to get in touch with me, have David call and say he's from American Express and I have mail there. I'll then meet you at five o'clock the same afternoon. Where?"
"One of the hotel bars," Ettinger said. "That would look coincidental."
"The bar in the Plaza," Tony decided.
"The bar in the Plaza," Clete parroted. "And now get out of here."
Pelosi and Ettinger both offered their hands.
Clete watched them as they walked to the library door.
Pelosi turned at Ettinger's arm, surprising Clete, and then surprised him even more:
"Detail, Ten-hut!" Pelosi barked.
Ettinger came to attention.
Pelosi raised his hand in a crisp salute and held it.
Permission to return to post, Sir?
Clete returned the salute.
"Post, Lieutenant Pelosi."
Pelosi brought his saluting hand crisply to his side, then barked, "Haa-bout, Face!" and "Faw-wud, Harch!" and marched out of the library.
Just in time. Otherwise they would have seen the tears running down my cheeks.
[FIVE]
Recoleta Cemetery
Buenos Aires, Argentina