W E B Griffin - Honor 2 - Blood and Honor

by Blood

  "I've considered the possibility that Leibermann is aware of it. He's a very clever fellow."

  Clete nodded in agreement.

  "In the meantime, you don't go back to Buenos Aires until I tell you to."

  "I can't ask very many questions here," Ettinger replied.

  "We may get orders telling you not to ask any more questions, period."

  "Clete, if you're right that the order to kill me was issued only this morn-ing, I don't think they'd have time to set anything up. And I have a couple of people I'd like to talk to."

  Christ, he simply does not know how to take an order!

  "And there may be two guys outside your apartment this minute, waiting for you to show up. I don't want you killed. I need you. You stay here until I tell you otherwise, you understand?"

  Ettinger threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

  Clete turned to Chief Schultz. "Chief, in Washington they were really con-cerned about losing the station. I must have had six lectures on triangulation."

  "No problem here, Mr. Frade," Chief Schultz said. "You know how that works?"

  Clete nodded, and started to say "Yes, a little," but Chief Schultz went on without giving him the chance.

  "First of all, they have to catch us on the air," he explained. "By two, prefer-ably three, directional antennae mounted on trucks. One receiver won't cut the mustard. If they do happen to catch us, they won't be close. To really pinpoint a transmitter, you have to get close."

  "And they can't get close here?"

  "You know how big this place is? I got a map of it. And Mr. Pelosi stole an almanac from the embassy for me. This place takes in more than eighty thou-sand hectares. A hectare is about two point seven acres. That makes it more than two hundred thousand acres. That's three hundred twenty-five square miles. You know how big Manhattan Island is? Twenty square miles. This place is one-quarter the size of Rhode Island."

  "We've got counties in Texas that big," Clete heard himself arguing. "Hell, I think the King Ranch takes in more than two hundred thousand acres."

  Chief Schultz looked at him for a moment with the tolerant look a veteran chief petty officer gives young officers who cannot seem to grasp a simple ex-planation.

  "Without coming on the property, Mr. Frade-and they can't do that with-out us hearing about it-they can't get close enough to us to get a good triangulation fix," he said. "In addition to which, I made the transmitter mobile."

  "What?"

  "I mounted one of the transmitters and a receiver on one of the Model A's, and a generator on another one. So what I can do is go three, four miles from here, rig a straight-wire antenna, fire it up, send the traffic, and then haul ass. Even if they got a triangulation fix on that site-which, like I say, is damned un-likely-by the time they got there there'd be nothing there but trees and cows."

  "What about the antenna I saw in the trees?"

  "That's a receiver antenna, Mr. Frade," Chief Schultz said tolerantly. "What we hear people calling us over."

  Clete looked at Ettinger, who was an electrical engineer. Ettinger nodded. Chief Schultz was telling the truth.

  "Well, perhaps not all chief petty officers are as retarded as Marine officers are led to believe," Clete said. "Could I have a look at this mobile transmitter of yours?"

  "You don't want to hear what Chiefs have to say about Marine officers, Mr. Frade," Chief Schultz said. "You just want a look at it, or do you want me to fire it up for you?"

  "A look now, and after Mr. Ettinger has finished his report, I'd like to see it in operation."

  "They're right out in back, Mr. Frade."

  "Tell me about radar, Chief," Clete said after Schultz had completed his demon-stration of his truck-mounted radio station.

  "They're really sending one down here?"

  "It's in Brazil, with a team to set it up and operate it."

  "I think they're pissing into the wind," Schultz said.

  "Tell me why."

  "You know how it works?"

  "Tell me."

  "They found out-at Bell Labs, in New Jersey-that at the higher frequen-cies, radio waves bounce. So they send out directional radiation. You know what I'm talking about?"

  Clete shook his head, "no."

  "You try to narrow the radiation field. Like, a civilian broadcasting system tries to get a wide radiation pattern. Like a stone dropped in the water, you know? Expanding circles? So the signal can be picked up by as many receivers as possible?"

  Clete nodded.

  "With radar, you try to do the opposite. Send out as narrow a field of radi-ation as you can. Then you've got a receiving antenna. It looks like a great big saucer. The signals from the transmitter bounce back to the saucer. Still with me?"

  Clete nodded again.

  "The antenna moves, sometimes through a 360-degree circle, sometimes just through a part of the circle. OK. So if you're using the radar at sea, for ex-ample, the signals will not bounce back to the antenna, unless they hit some-thing-a ship-that they can bounce off. When that happens, and the signals bounce back, all you have to do is figure how long it took them to do that."

  "How do you do that?"

  "Radio signals move at the speed of light. That's the constant. The radar can tell-this is the theory-how far away whatever the signal bounced off of is by how long it took the signal to come back. Then they can put that up on a cathode-ray tube. You know what that is?"

  Clete shook his head, "no."

  "Remember at the 1940 World's Fair in New York, when they broadcast pictures of people? What you saw the pictures on was a cathode-ray tube. So anyway, you mark on the screen the distances. So many microseconds for the signal to bounce back from whatever it hits-they call that the 'target'-and it's, say, two miles away. So many more microseconds, and it's, say, five miles away. And because you're pointing the receiving antenna-like the radio direc-tion finder on airplanes-you know in what direction the target is. That's the theory, Mr. Frade."

  "What's the reality?" Clete asked.

  "They had radar at Henderson Field, right?"

  "Yeah."

  "What did it do?"

  "When it worked, it told us when Jap airplanes were coming."

  "That it'll do. And it'll tell you the direction. But not the distance with any precision. Mr. Pelosi said they told him they can locate something within a hun-dred yards. I'll believe that when I see it."

  "And you don't expect to see it?"

  Schultz shook his head, "no."

  "Chief, what if the radar they sent down is absolutely the latest thing?"

  "I'll believe it can locate something within a hundred yards when I see it."

  "Where are we going to put it?"

  "It works line of sight," Schultz said. "Which means the target has to be be-tween the transmitter and the horizon. So it has to be on the highest ground you can find. On ships, they mount it as high aloft as they can get it. That's another problem here. The land here, by Samboromb¢n Bay, is flat. There are only a couple of hills. If the Germans anchor their ship more than thirty miles off-shore, then it will be over the horizon, and the radar won't work."

  "The radar at Henderson Field spotted Jap planes a lot further away than thirty miles."

  "When you aim at the sky, there's no horizon," Schultz explained. "The limiting factor there is really the strength of the bounced-back signal."

  "In other words, you don't think this thing will work?"

  "I'll believe it when I see it."

  "If we can get it into the country, have you located a place where they can put it up?"

  "Yes, Sir. And I got everything we need-concrete, timber, even a genera-tor-to put it in operation."

  "I really hope you're wrong, Chief," Clete said. "I don't want to have to lo-cate that damned ship with a Piper Cub."

  "Yeah," Chief Schultz said. "Well, I been wrong before, Mr. Frade."

  Clete sensed that this was one of those times when Chief Schultz did not think he was wrong.


  "Let's go back and see if Dave's finished his report," he said.

  Chapter Thirteen

  [ONE]

  Office of the Minister of War

  Edificio Libertador

  Avenida Paseo Colon

  Buenos Aires

  1445 11 April 1943

  Major Pedro V. Querro pushed open the left of the twelve-foot-tall double doors leading to the office of Teniente General Pedro P. Ramirez, waited until he had the attention of the Minister of War and then announced, "El Teniente Coronel Mart¡n is here, mi General."

  Like Querro, Ramirez was in civilian clothing. An hour before, Mart¡n had called to tell him that it was important to see him immediately, and Ramirez di-rected Mart¡n to meet him in his office. His home in the suburb of Belgrano- like those of other senior government officials-was patrolled by the Polic¡a Federal, and he thought it likely that a note would be made if anyone saw the BIS counterintelligence chief paying him a Saturday-afternoon visit. He had been waiting for Mart¡n for fifteen minutes, and he didn't like to wait for any-one.

  Ramirez impatiently signaled for Querro to show him in. Mart¡n marched into the office, his brimmed cap under his left arm. At the last moment, he re-membered his right hand was holding a briefcase, making it difficult to render the called-for salute.

  Ramirez smiled as Mart¡n hastily transferred the briefcase to his left hand, therefore causing the brimmed cap to be dislodged. Mart¡n managed to catch it with the side of his arm before it fell to the carpet, and saluted. The maneuver fell somewhat short of the precision expected.

  "Good afternoon, mi Coronel," Ramirez said as he returned the salute.

  "May I suggest, mi General, that we close the door?" Mart¡n said.

  Ramirez again made an impatient gesture with his hand.

  Querro started to close the door.

  "Will my presence be required, mi General?" he asked.

  "Martin?" Ramirez asked.

  "I think it would be best, mi General," Mart¡n said.

  Querro closed the door, then marched across the room and took up a posi-tion behind Ramirez's desk.

  "May I?" Mart¡n said, holding the briefcase above Ramirez's desk.

  Ramirez signaled that he could.

  Mart¡n set the briefcase on the desk, opened it, and handed Outline Blue to Ramirez.

  Ramirez opened Outline Blue to the first page to confirm it was what he thought it was, then looked up at Martin.

  "Where did you get this, Coronel?"

  "From Se¤or Frade, mi General."

  "I thought he was supposed to have gone to his estancia?"

  "He did, mi General. I went down there."

  "And the money?" Ramirez asked.

  "In the safe at Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo, mi General."

  "He wouldn't give it to you?"

  "I thought it best to leave it in the safe, mi General."

  "Your reasons?"

  "I thought the money would be secure there until arrangements can be made to transport it. I went down there in a Fieseler."

  "Hence the uniform? We don't often see you in uniform, Coronel."

  "S¡, Se¤or."

  "Two questions: Are you sure we can have the money when we want it, and how would you recommend transporting it?"

  "I am sure the money will be available when we ask for it, mi General, and I would recommend transporting it by auto, suitably protected."

  "When?"

  "I don't think there would be time to make the necessary arrangements to-day. So tomorrow, during the memorial service for el Coronel Frade."

  "Mi General," Querro said. "I can take half a dozen men down there this af-ternoon. I could be back by perhaps ten."

  "And you don't think questions would be asked if my aide showed up down there, accompanied by half a dozen soldiers?" Ramirez said patiently. "Thank you, but no, Pedro. Let's leave this in the hands of an expert. Please go on, Coronel Martin."

  "My recommendation, Se¤or, would be to send two officers-"

  "Your men, Coronel?"

  "No, Sir. I had in mind officers, majors or teniente coronels, who are mem-bers of Grupo de Oficiales Unidos. Officers who knew el Coronel Frade and whose presence at the memorial service would not attract curiosity. They would travel in one auto, and be accompanied by two other automobiles, each con-taining an officer and three men, preferably senior sub-Oficiales who are reli-able, and who would of course be armed."

  "You think Frade would turn the money over to an officer he's never met before, mi Coronel?" Querro asked.

  Mart¡n gave him a mildly sarcastic look that suggested he did not like to be questioned by any officer junior to him. Ramirez picked up on this and ex-tended his left hand, palm outward, as a signal for Querro to shut up.

  "I frankly didn't think that Frade would just turn Outline Blue over to me, mi General," Mart¡n said. "My hope was that I could convince him to give it, and the money, to either General Rawson or Coronel Per¢n."

  "I want to talk about that in a moment," Ramirez said. "But go on."

  "In that circumstance, I presumed that General Rawson would have made provision for the safe transport of both Outline Blue and the money."

  "Are you familiar, Pedro, with anything like that?"

  "No, Se¤or."

  Ramirez looked at Mart¡n and shrugged.

  "When Se¤or Frade gave me Outline Blue, mi General, I did the only thing I could think of at the time. I brought Outline Blue here, and I left the money in the safe. By now General Rawson has learned that I have Outline Blue and that the money is in the safe."

  "They're at Se¤ora Carzino-Cormano's estancia. Did you go there?"

  "No, Se¤or. But I sent word to General Rawson."

  "How?"

  "One of the pilots at Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo is a retired officer. I saw him just before I took off to come back to Buenos Aires."

  "A retired officer who works for you, you mean?"

  Mart¡n didn't reply to that question.

  "I now suggest, mi General-presuming you agree with my suggestion that the money should be entrusted to G.O.U. officers?"

  Ramirez nodded. Mart¡n went on: "I suggest that late tonight, or very early in the morning, we send the officers I mentioned to Estancia Santo Catalina with instructions to report to General Rawson. When I left Se¤or Frade, I sug-gested that he give the money to either General Rawson or his aide, Capitan Lauffer, if either should ask for it. Both General Rawson and Coronel Per¢n are more familiar with Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo than I am; and they will be there in any event for the memorial service."

  "Leave the method up to them, right?"

  "S¡, Se¤or."

  "Very shortly, Major Querro and I will pay a surprise visit to the First Reg-iment of Cavalry at Campo de Mayo," Ramirez said, "where I will have a dis-creet word with several officers of my acquaintance. They will be at Estancia Santo Catalina first thing in the morning, in the manner you propose, in other words, accompanied by armed and trustworthy personnel, and will report to General Rawson for specific orders."

  "S¡, Se¤or."

  "General Rawson will give them specific instructions about how to carry out their mission, and, in one way or another, they will go to Estancia San Pe-dro y San Pablo and take charge of the funds in question."

  "S¡, Se¤or."

  "There is one potential problem area in this outline, Coronel. Do you know what it is?"

  "I don't think I understand, mi General," Mart¡n said.

  "It all depends on your faith in Frade. How do we know that he will turn the money over to us tomorrow? That he will not, for example, change his mind tonight? For that matter, remove the money from the safe tonight?"

  "We have no way of knowing that for sure, mi General."

  "I can go down there and get it myself, mi General, and be back by ten tonight," Major Querro offered again.

  Ramirez ignored him completely.

  "Tell me why you believe that Frade will not change his mind, Coronel."


  "In my business, mi General, it is sometimes necessary to trust your intu-ition," Mart¡n said.

  "In the Infantry, we use our intuition based on the facts we have," Ramirez said. "I'm curious about Frade's motives. Why did he turn it over to you? For all he knew, you could be working for Castillo. What did he want in return?"