Clete nodded.
‘‘With radar, you try to do the opposite. Send out as narrow a field of radiation 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 example, the signals will not bounce back to the antenna, unless they hit something —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 direction 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 hundred 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 between 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 Samborombón Bay, is flat. There are only a couple of hills. If the Germans anchor their ship more than thirty miles offshore, 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 generator—to put it in operation.’’
‘‘I really hope you’re wrong, Chief,’’ Clete said. ‘‘I don’t want to have to locate 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.
XIII
[ONE] Office of the Minister of War Edificio Libertador Avenida Paseo Colón 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. Ramírez, waited until he had the attention of the Minister of War and then announced, ‘‘El Teniente Coronel Martín is here, mi General.’’
Like Querro, Ramírez was in civilian clothing. An hour before, Martín had called to tell him that it was important to see him immediately, and Ramírez directed Martín to meet him in his office. His home in the suburb of Belgrano —like those of other senior government officials— was patrolled by the Policía 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 Martín for fifteen minutes, and he didn’t like to wait for anyone.
Ramírez impatiently signaled for Querro to show him in. Martín marched into the office, his brimmed cap under his left arm. At the last moment, he remembered his right hand was holding a briefcase, making it difficult to render the called-for salute.
Ramírez smiled as Martín hastily transferred the briefcase to his left hand, therefore causing the brimmed cap to be dislodged. Martín 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,’’ Ramírez said as he returned the salute.
‘‘May I suggest, mi General, that we close the door?’’ Martín said.
Ramírez again made an impatient gesture with his hand.
Querro started to close the door.
‘‘Will my presence be required, mi General?’’ he asked.
‘‘Martín?’’ Ramírez asked.
‘‘I think it would be best, mi General,’’ Martín said.
Querro closed the door, then marched across the room and took up a position behind Ramírez’s desk.
‘‘May I?’’ Martín said, holding the briefcase above Ram írez’s desk.
Ramírez signaled that he could.
Martín set the briefcase on the desk, opened it, and handed OUTLINE BLUE to Ramírez.
Ramírez opened OUTLINE BLUE to the first page to con firm it was what he thought it was, then looked up at Mart ín.
‘‘Where did you get this, Coronel?’’
‘‘From Señor 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?’’ Ramírez 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.’’
"Sí, Señor.’’
‘‘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 today. So tomorrow, during the memorial service for el Coronel Frade.’’
‘‘Mi General,’’ Querro said. ‘‘I can take half a dozen men down there this afternoon. 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?’’ Ramírez said patiently. ‘‘Thank you, but no, Pedro. Let’s leave this in the hands of an expert. Please go on, Coronel Martín.’’
‘‘My recommendation, Se�
�or, would be to send two of ficers—’’
‘‘Your men, Coronel?’’
‘‘No, Sir. I had in mind officers, majors or teniente coronels, who are members 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 containing an officer and three men, preferably senior sub-Oficiales who are reliable, and who would of course be armed.’’
‘‘You think Frade would turn the money over to an of ficer he’s never met before, mi Coronel?’’ Querro asked.
Martín gave him a mildly sarcastic look that suggested he did not like to be questioned by any officer junior to him. Ramírez picked up on this and extended 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,’’ Martín said. ‘‘My hope was that I could convince him to give it, and the money, to either General Rawson or Coronel Perón.’’
‘‘I want to talk about that in a moment,’’ Ramírez 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, Señor.’’
Ramírez looked at Martín and shrugged.
‘‘When Señor 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 Señora Carzino-Cormano’s estancia. Did you go there?’’
‘‘No, Señor. 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?’’
Martín 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?’’
Ramírez nodded. Martín went on: ‘‘I suggest that late tonight, or very early in the morning, we send the officers I mentioned to Estancia Santa Catalina with instructions to report to General Rawson. When I left Señor Frade, I suggested that he give the money to either General Rawson or his aide, Capitán Lauffer, if either should ask for it. Both General Rawson and Coronel Perón 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?’’
"Sí, Señor.’’
‘‘Very shortly, Major Querro and I will pay a surprise visit to the First Regiment of Cavalry at Campo de Mayo,’’ Ramírez said, ‘‘where I will have a discreet word with several officers of my acquaintance. They will be at Estancia Santa 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.’’
"Sí, Señor.’’
‘‘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 Pedro y San Pablo and take charge of the funds in question.’’
"Sí, Señor.’’
‘‘There is one potential problem area in this outline, Coronel. Do you know what it is?’’
‘‘I don’t think I understand, mi General,’’ Martín 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.
Ramírez 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 intuition,’’ Martín said.
‘‘In the Infantry, we use our intuition based on the facts we have,’’ Ramírez 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? ’’
‘‘I believe his primary motivation was that he saw his father’s signature on the Purpose Page of OUTLINE BLUE, mi General.’’
‘‘That might explain his turning it over to me, or General Rawson, or Juan Domingo Perón, but not to you. From all we’ve heard of him, he’s a professional intelligence officer. ’’
"Sí, mi General, he is that.’’
‘‘And professional intelligence officers, I have been told, don’t trust anyone without reason. Good reason. Does Frade have some reason, some good reason, to trust you?’’
"Sí, Señor.’’
‘‘Would you like to tell me what that is?’’
‘‘I would prefer not to, mi General.’’
Ramírez considered that for a long moment.
‘‘Very well, Coronel. But can you assure me Frade’s cooperation was not based on your promise of cooperation in the future?’’
‘‘Mi General, it is not at all uncommon for intelligence officers to make arrangements with their counterparts,’’ Martín said. ‘‘But I have offered Frade nothing more than that. I would not tell him anything I don’t think he should know, and he would not expect me to.’’
‘‘He asked for nothing?’’
‘‘He asked about an import permit for an airplane to replace the Beechcraft which is missing.’’
Ramírez grunted. ‘‘This ‘arrangement’ between intelligence officers fascinates me. Could you give me an example? ’’
‘‘It has come to my attention that the Germans have ordered the assassination of one of Frade’s men. I told him that.’’
‘‘How did you come by that?’’ Querro asked.
Martín did not reply to Querro but looked at Ramírez.
‘‘I would say, Pedro,’’ Ramírez said, ‘‘that you don’t have the need to know that,’’ he said, and turned to Martín and asked, ‘‘You believe the Germans will kill this man?’’
"Sí, Señor, I believe they will try.’’
‘‘Certainly, you can do something to keep that from happening? ’’
‘‘Not very much, Señor. Only by providing him with protection, overtly, or covertly, mi General. And there would be no guarantee at—’’
‘‘Do so.’’
‘‘Excuse me?’’
‘‘Do so, Coronel. Do whatever you have to do to keep Frade’s man from being assassinated.’’
‘‘Señor, I couldn’t provide one-fourth the protection that would be the minimum required without it coming to el Almirante Montoya’s attention. It would require many people, and a good deal of money.’’
‘‘The last Bureau of Internal Security budget I saw, Coronel, was anything but parsimonious.’’
‘‘Señor, what I was suggesting is that I could not order such an operation on my own authority. And to report that I was doing so on your orders . . .’’
‘‘Would tell Montoya that we have been in touch? Is that what you’re saying?’’
"Sí, mi General.’’
Ramírez considered that for a moment.
‘‘Pedro, get el Almirante on the telephone, please. I’ll tell him, Martín, that I have learned of this threat and authorize him to authorize you to do whatever is necessary to reduce the threat to zero.’’
‘‘Señor? Permission to speak, mi General?’’ Martí
n said.
‘‘Frankly, Coronel, I am rapidly tiring of debating this with you. But go ahead.’’
‘‘Señor, I have reason to believe that the Germans have someone in BIS. If Almirante Montoya is aware that we know about this German decision, the Germans will learn that he knows.’’
‘‘The Germans have someone inside BIS?’’ Ramírez asked incredulously.
‘‘I believe so, Señor.’’
‘‘Well, so what if the Germans know we know? It might make them reconsider.’’
‘‘It would also let them know we have someone in . . . in their embassy, Señor. My source would be compromised. ’’
‘‘An important source? Important to the security of Argentina? ’’
"Sí, Señor.’’
‘‘Shall I get el Almirante on the phone for you, mi General? ’’ Querro asked. He had a telephone in his hand.
Ramírez waved his hand, ‘‘no,’’ and Querro replaced the receiver in its cradle.
‘‘With Argentina’s interests as the criterion, Coronel, is this source worth this man’s life?’’
"Sí, Señor. That would be my very reluctant conclusion. ’’
‘‘You have no one you could assign to this?’’
‘‘I had already planned to increase the surveillance on Frade and the others, mi General. But beyond that . . .’’
‘‘And you have warned him, haven’t you?’’
"Sí, Señor. And if anything else comes to my attention that I can tell him without putting my source at risk, I intend to tell it to him.’’
‘‘That would seem to be about all you can do under the circumstances,’’ Querro volunteered.
‘‘Thank you very much, Mayor, for that astute observation, ’’ Martín said, icily sarcastic.
Ramírez looked between them.
‘‘About this aircraft import license Frade asked for,’’ he said. ‘‘Would the import of an airplane for him, his use of an airplane, pose a serious threat to Argentine security?’’
‘‘No, Señor. And there are other aircraft available to him.’’
‘‘Can you obtain the permit for him?’’
‘‘It might be difficult, mi General,’’ Martín said. ‘‘And it would be impossible to keep quiet. There would be curiosity about BIS asking for an aircraft import permit for Señor Frade.’’
Blood and Honor Page 35
