Top Secret Part 6

Mattingly walked to a desk, where he commandeered a telephone. Ten minutes later, he walked back to Cronley.

"You got lucky, Jimmy," he said. "They loaned me one. You will be spared that long ride down the autobahn to Munich. And I called Tiny and told him to meet you there at the Vier Jahreszeiten."

The luxury hotel had been requisitioned by the Army. The XXVIIth CIC Detachment had s.p.a.ce in the building.

"Thank you, sir."

"You okay, Jimmy?"

"I'm fine, sir."

"Forgive me, Captain, for not thinking so."

"I'm really okay, sir. But thanks for getting me a ride."

"They said within thirty minutes. We can get a cup of coffee over there"-he pointed to a PX coffee bar-"while we wait."

"Colonel, you don't have to wait with me."

"Captains don't get to tell colonels what they don't have to do. And I just realized I have some questions for you."

"Should I be worried?"

"That would depend on the answers I get."

Mattingly pointed again toward the coffee bar. They walked to it and ordered coffee and doughnuts-it was all that was available-and sat at a small table.

"When Admiral Souers told me that you had found that stuff everybody was looking for, I naturally wondered how you had found it," Mattingly began his interrogation. "When I asked him, he said something to the effect that Cletus Frade had told him that after you had come up with a pretty good idea where that vessel was, you and two of our Germans got into Clete's Fieseler Storch and a Cub, and went looking for it."

"Yes, sir. The Germans were Willi Grner-he's the Luftwaffe buddy of Clete's buddy von Wachtstein. They found him in Berlin and took him to Argentina-and Kapitn von Dattenberg. He's the guy who surrendered U-405 to the Argentines. He and the captain of U-234 . . . Sorry. He and the captain of the vessel we were looking for were friends, and Clete thought that might be useful-and it was-if we found what we were looking for."

Mattingly made a Keep talking gesture with his hands.

"Well, the first thing Clete did when I figured out where U-2 . . . the vessel . . . probably was, was to take the wings off his Storch and one of his Cubs. Then he had them loaded onto flatbed trucks and trucked them down to a place called Estancia Condor. He sent Grner along to make sure the mechanics put the wings back on right. And Grner had a lot of experience flying Storches in Russia."

"What was that all about?"

"Well, when I say I figured out where the vessel was, I mean that I thought it was way down south, within fifty miles of the mouth of the Magellan Straits. There's not much but mountains and snow and ice down there. To find anything, we knew we would have to fly low and slow. The only way to do that was with little airplanes-you can't do that in, say, a Lodestar."

"Souers said that Commander Ford told him the material was brought to Mendoza, where it was transferred to the Constellation, on a Lodestar."

"Yes, sir. That's right."

"The Lodestar was flown by Cletus?"

"No, sir. If Cletus had left Buenos Aires to fly the Lodestar, the wrong people would have asked questions. So Clete didn't go down south."

"Getting to the heart of our little chat, Captain Cronley: If Colonel Frade didn't fly the Lodestar during this exercise, who did?"

After a long moment, Cronley said, "I did."

"And you were flying what when you found U-234? It was you who found her. Correct?"

"Yes, sir. I was flying the Cub."

"I wasn't aware that you were a pilot."

Cronley didn't reply.

"You want to explain this?" Mattingly said.

Again Cronley didn't reply.

"That was more in the nature of an order for an explanation, Captain, than an idle question."

"Yes, sir. Clete is like my big brother, Colonel."

"Would it surprise you to hear I have already come to that conclusion? And . . . ?"

"I followed him all my life. Into the Cub Scouts. Into the Boy Scouts. Into Texas A&M. I was about to follow him into the Marine Corps when I decided I had had enough of following him."

"Was this before or after you became a pilot?"

"I've been flying since Clete taught me when I was fourteen."

"So, pa.s.sing up the glory of becoming a Marine fighter pilot, you joined the Army instead? On behalf of the officer corps of the U.S. Army, let me say how pleased we are that you're slumming amongst us."

Jimmy didn't reply.

"I gather you did not qualify for the Army's aviator training program? Why not?"

"I never applied for it."

"Why not?"

"I didn't want to spend four years as an aerial taxi driver."

"Had you applied, would you have been qualified? What sort of a license to fly do you hold? How experienced a pilot are you?"

When Jimmy hesitated, Mattingly said, "That, too, was not a question born of idle curiosity as we wait for your aerial taxi driver to appear, Captain Cronley."

"I've got eleven hundred hours, sir, and hold a commercial ticket, with instrument and multi-engine ratings."

"This secret talent of yours comes as something of a surprise. I'll have to think about it."

"Life is just full of surprises, isn't it, Colonel?"

Mattingly looked at him for a moment.

"Under the circ.u.mstances, Captain," he said, "I'll choose not to consider that a smart-a.s.s remark."

- Five minutes later, a first lieutenant whom Cronley could not remember having seen before walked up to their table and saluted. He wore a zippered "Tanker Jacket" to which were sewn Liaison Pilot wings and a shoulder insignia-a circle of Cavalry yellow, in which was the letter "C" with a diagonal lightning bolt through it.

"Sir, Colonel Wilson said you need a ride."

"Not me," Mattingly said as he quickly-and Cronley belatedly-returned his salute. "The captain here needs a ride to Munich."

"Yes, sir. Not a problem. It's right on my way. I'm headed to Sonthofen."

"Be gentle with him, Lieutenant," Mattingly said. "The captain doesn't like to fly."

The lieutenant, looking a little uneasy, said, "Yes, sir. If you'll come with me, sir?"

Jimmy stood and looked down at Mattingly, wondering if he was supposed to salute.

Mattingly answered the question by getting to his feet and putting out his hand.

"If I somehow forgot to say this earlier, Jimmy, I'm very sorry for your loss and greatly admire the way you're handling it."

"Thank you, sir."

[ TWO ].

Supreme Headquarters, Allied European Forces I.G. Farben Building Frankfurt am Main, American Zone, Occupied Germany 1045 28 October 1945 Colonel Robert Mattingly returned the salute of the two natty paratroopers of the 508th Parachute Infantry Regiment on ceremonial guard at the entrance of the building and entered the lobby. He walked past the sea of red general officers' personal flags-in the center of which was the red flag with five stars in a circle of General of the Army Dwight D. Eisenhower-and stepped onto the right of the two devices he thought of as the dumbwaiters.

He had no idea of the proper nomenclature of the devices that moved people up (the right one) and down (the left one) in the largest office building in Europe. They functioned by constantly moving small platforms onto which pa.s.sengers stepped on and off.

In 1941, I.G. Farben G.m.b.H. had been the fourth largest corporation in the world, after General Motors, U.S. Steel, and Standard Oil of New Jersey. Eisenhower had decided, early on, that he wanted the building as his headquarters. With great difficulty, the enormous structure had been spared damage by the thousand bomber raids that had reduced most of Frankfurt to rubble.

Mattingly, ascending upon what he now idly thought could probably be called the "vertical personnel transport device," arrived at the fifth floor. It was his intention to call upon Brigadier General H. Paul Greene, chief, Counterintelligence, European Command, whom he hoped to deceive sufficiently to get him off the backs of the XXIIIrd and XXVIIth CIC detachments-and off himself personally.

The last time Mattingly had seen Greene, who was de jure but not de facto his immediate superior, Greene had ordered him to consider himself under arrest for disobedience of a direct order. The one-star released him from arrest only after Mattingly had threatened to bring their disagreement to the personal attention of General Eisenhower.

There was a very good chance, Mattingly understood, that he would again find himself under arrest today. But that chance had to be taken.

He stepped off the dumbwaiter and marched purposefully down the marble-floored corridor to General Greene's suite of offices.

When he entered the outer office, a major and a master sergeant looked up from their desks. The master sergeant then stood.

"Good morning," Mattingly said. "I'm here to see General Greene."

"I'll see if the general is free, sir," the major said, and reached for his telephone.

"Just to clear the air between us, Major: That was an announcement of intention. As deputy commander, CIC, I don't need your permission to see the general. Perhaps you might wish to write that down."

Mattingly marched to, and through, the doorway to General Greene's office, then up to his desk. The major hurriedly followed him to the doorway.

Mattingly came to attention and saluted.

General Greene's face whitened and he glared at Mattingly for a long moment before returning the salute.

"Good morning, General," Mattingly said.

General Greene did not immediately reply.

"General," the major began, "he just walked in-"

Mattingly turned to him. "That will be all, thank you, Major. I'm afraid you're not cleared for the matter the general and I will be discussing."

The major looked to General Greene for guidance. After a moment, Greene waved his hand, telling him to leave.

"Please close the door tightly, Major," Mattingly ordered.

When the door was closed, General Greene said, "You better have a good explanation for this, you arrogant sonofab.i.t.c.h!"

"With the general's permission, I have several doc.u.ments, cla.s.sified Top SecretPresidential, I would like the general to peruse."

After a moment, still white-faced and tight-lipped, General Greene made another hand gesture-Let's see them.

Mattingly opened his briefcase, took from it a thin sheath of papers and photographs, and laid them before General Greene.

On top was an eight-by-ten-inch glossy photograph of Captain James D. Cronley Jr. with, on his right, the President of the United States and, on his left, Rear Admiral Sidney William Souers. To their left and right were James D. Cronley Sr., Major General William J. Donovan, and Colonel Robert Mattingly.

"What am I looking at?" General Greene asked, more than a little unpleasantly.

"Forgive me, sir, but I must have your confirmation of your understanding that this material is cla.s.sified Top SecretPresidential."

"I'm not deaf, Mattingly," Greene snapped. "I heard you the first time."

"That photograph was taken the day before yesterday, General, immediately after President Truman promoted Captain Cronley to that grade and awarded him the Distinguished Service Medal."

"Who the h.e.l.l is he?"

"He's the officer I placed in charge of the Twenty-third Detachment's-"

"Twenty-third Detachment?" Greene interrupted. "We don't have a Twenty-third Detachment!"

"I formed it, sir, under the Twenty-seventh, to run the operation at Kloster Grnau, sir, to further s.h.i.+eld it."

Green stared at him a long moment. "Tell me more about this Captain Cronley."