“And getting his family out of Russia will cost a great deal of money,” Gehlen said. “U.S. dollars open many doors in Moscow. Fifty thousand comes to mind. Is that going to pose a problem?”
Frade nodded. “For several reasons. The accounts of the former OSS are just about empty. Even if they weren’t, I doubt I could ask for two hundred thousand dollars without offering a good reason. And while I have access to money in Argentina…”
“You mean your own money, right?” Cronley said.
“… and have been using my own money to fund operations there — placing a child-like faith in Admiral Souers’s promise I’ll get it back when the Central Intelligence Directorate is up and running — I couldn’t take another two hundred thousand out of the Anglo-Argentine Bank for unspecified purposes without the wrong people asking the wrong questions. Yes, General, money is going to be a problem. We’re going to have to really think about that.”
“What about documentation for Orlovsky?” Gehlen said. “To get him into Argentina, and then for him to become as invisible as possible once he is?”
“I’m sure our mutual friend the Jesuit can arrange a Vatican passport and a libreta de enrolamiento, the national identity document, for him,” Frade said. “But that means he would have to be told what’s going on.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Not for me,” Frade said, chuckling. “The wily Father Welner already knows all my secrets — well, almost all. But there are two things. The fewer people who know a secret, the longer it can be kept secret. Aside from Welner, I am only going to tell Major Ashton — my deputy, Major Maxwell Ashton the Third — and Master Sergeant Siggie Stein about any of this.”
“Niedermeyer speaks highly of both,” Gehlen said.
“And the only reason I’m going to tell them is that I think I may have to send Ashton over to deal with some people from the Pentagon who will be in Pullach and are very much aware they all outrank Cronley. If that becomes necessary, Stein will have to hold the fort in Argentina.”
“Niedermeyer will have to be told, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yeah, he will. I didn’t think about it, but sure. Otto will have to be brought in on this.”
Cronely put in, “You sound as if you think—”
“Not now, for God’s sake, Jimmy,” Frade shut him off, and then said, “I was wondering how the Vatican would react — maybe will react — when they find out they’ve issued a passport to an NKGB officer. Is that going to cause problems for you, sir?”
“Not if by the time they find out Orlovsky has seen the light and has put godless Communism behind him. But if he goes to Argentina, escapes his bodyguards, and heads for the nearest Russian embassy…”
“General, there’s no Russian embassy in Argentina. Just an NKGB outpost pretending to be a trade mission. General Martín…?”
“The chief of the Argentine Bureau of Internal Security?” Gehlen asked.
Frade nodded.
“Martín keeps a close eye on the tradesmen. But I don’t want him to know about Orlovsky. He’d want to take him over. But that’s not a big problem. I can make sure that Orlovsky doesn’t get within a hundred miles of either him or the trade mission. The problem is the money.”
“Let me get this straight,” Jimmy said. “You sound — the both of you sound — as if you think I had a great idea and the only thing that’s standing in the way of doing it is a couple hundred thousand dollars.”
“So?” Frade asked. “You figured that out, did you, you clever fellow?”
“Yes, you can have it,” Cronley said.
“I can have what?” Frade said, and then, understanding, added, “Oh.”
“What you just figured out, you clever fellow.”
Frade was silent for a long moment, then snapped, “Your automatic mouth is about to get you in more goddamned trouble than you can handle. Do you even realize that?”
“Sorry,” Jimmy said. A moment later, he went on: “I’m really sorry. I just can’t handle being treated like I’m part of this one second, then I’m an idiot second lieutenant the next.”
“Well, you goddamned well better learn,” Frade said icily. And then he chuckled. “You better remember, too, that you’re an ‘idiot captain,’ Captain Cronley.”
Their eyes met for a long moment. “You sure you want to do this, Jimmy?”
Cronley nodded.
“Boltitz will have my power of attorney. You can tell him to give you the money, so that you can take it to Argentina to invest it for me. Nobody would question that. And he wouldn’t have to be told what we’re going to do with it.”
“I don’t understand,” Gehlen said.
Frade ignored him. He said, “I really don’t like taking your money, Jimmy…”
“Would you take it — I prefer ‘borrow’ to ‘take,’ let’s say ‘borrow’ from now on — would you borrow it from the Squirt if she was still around?”
Frade ignored that question, too.
“… but borrowing it would solve more than one problem,” Frade went on. “I have to go to Midland anyway to pick up my wife and kids. If Karl took the money out of your bank in cash, that would solve the problem of getting it to Argentina. And then here to General Gehlen. No cashier’s checks, no transfer wires, just all the cash we need, within a matter of days, and nobody asking questions.”
“Do I understand that Jim is going to provide the funds we’re talking about?” Gehlen asked.
Cronley nodded. “Yes, sir. And all I’m going to ask Colonel Frade to do is unscrew his left arm at the elbow and leave it with me in lieu of collateral.”
Gehlen laughed out loud.
“The only thing missing is Orlovsky actually agreeing to turn,” Frade said.
“If I may make a suggestion?” Gehlen asked.
“You don’t have to ask, General,” Frade said.
“I would suggest it might be a good idea not to seem too eager, to — now that you believe he’s willing — have him worry that we don’t trust him to carry out his end of the bargain. I know Jim doesn’t think that Major Bischoff’s disorientation theories are effective—”
“They weren’t working, General,” Cronley interrupted.
“Let me rephrase that: We know Bischoff’s disorientation tactics did not work. But keeping Orlovsky disoriented until the moment we load him on an airplane might be a good idea.”
“You want to bring Bischoff back into this?” Cronley asked suspiciously.
“I was thinking of doing this myself,” Gehlen said. “If you’re going to Munich, while you’re gone I could chat with Major Orlovsky. We could talk, for example, about mutual acquaintances we have on the faculty of the Felix Dzerzhinsky Federal Security Service Academy and among the members of the People’s Commissariat for Internal Affairs. That should get him wondering how many of them I’ve managed to turn.”
“I didn’t want to go to Munich in the first place,” Frade said. “Now I really don’t want to go. I’d love to watch a master of our trade at work.”
“I’m flattered,” Gehlen said.
“But I have to go, and I don’t think I’ll be coming back here. The sooner I can get to the States, the better.”
“I understand,” Gehlen said. “But speaking of my chat with Major Orlovsky: I have found it useful to have someone with me when I’m having chats of that nature.”
“Major Bischoff?” Frade asked.
“Actually, I was thinking of First Sergeant Dunwiddie,” Gehlen said. “Of course, he would have to be made privy to what we’re doing.”