"Come to my office at twelve hundred tomorrow," Colonel Wallace re-peated somewhat impatiently.
"I'm having a little trouble getting a room, Colonel."
"How is that?"
"The problem seems to be my orders."
"What's wrong with your orders?"
"I don't have any orders, Sir."
"You don't have any orders?" Colonel Wallace asked incredulously.
"No, Sir."
"That's very unusual, you understand."
"Yes, Sir. I realize that. I was hoping, Sir, you would have a word with the sergeant."
"Very well," Colonel Wallace said after giving the subject a full thirty sec-onds of thought. "Put him on."
"Thank you very much, Sir."
The price of each room was one dollar and twenty-five cents, United States currency only. Major Frade had to borrow the money from Captain Ashton.
First Lieutenant Madison R. Sawyer III did not physically resemble a gorilla. He was a good-looking, large, well-muscled young man wearing a well-cut tweed jacket and a button-down-collar shirt and gray flannel slacks. His blond hair was closely cropped in a crew cut.
"It's a privilege to meet you, Sir," he said enthusiastically, shaking Clete's hand in a bone-crushing grip.
"Easy on the hand, Lieutenant!"
"Sorry, Sir."
Staff Sergeant Jerry O'Sullivan, who was dressed in a cotton zipper jacket and a turtleneck shirt, was a wiry little man with sharp features and intelligent eyes. Sergeant Siegfried Stein, who wore a rumpled suit, was almost as large as Lieutenant Sawyer, but did not look muscular. Technical Sergeant Ferris was average-size, with a lithe build.
"I've explained to Lieutenant Sawyer and the men, Major," Ashton said, for the first time sounding like an officer, "that you believe that the infiltration can be best accomplished by flying us across the border into Argentina in your aircraft."
"It's a C-45," Clete said, looking at the team. "The Air Corps uses them as liaison aircraft, and to train navigators. I've flown one a couple of times, and I have seen the strip where we can land in Argentina..."
"Permission to speak, Sir?" the gorilla asked. Clete nodded.
"Parachute infiltration has been decided against, Sir?"
"You're asking the wrong man, Lieutenant. I don't command your team."
"But you are the senior officer of the line present, Sir," the gorilla argued.
Clete's glance fell on the enlisted men. From their faces it was clear they shared the opinion of their executive officer held by their commanding officer.
"Let the major continue, Lieutenant Sawyer," Ashton said. "Perhaps he will be good enough to hold a question-and-answer period when he's finished."
"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir," the gorilla said, then looked at Clete and added, "Excuse me, Sir."
"As I said, I just had a look at the landing strip where I'll land. I don't see any problem in getting a C-45 in there."
"Excuse me, Sir," Lieutenant Sawyer said. "It's not a C-45, Sir, it's a C-56-"
"Shut up, Sawyer!" Ashton snapped.