“I thought it would be appropriate, Señor Frade,” Delgano replied seriously.
“And so it is,” Frade said.
“I’m so glad you could find time for us in your busy schedule, Mr. Frade,” the Immigration Service captain said somewhat sarcastically.
“Well, I always try to be properly turned out myself, and that takes time.” He smiled triumphantly, then said, “So, what happens now?”
“That will be explained to you later. Shall we get in the Carryalls?”
“We are completely in your hands, Captain,” Frade said.
[THREE]
Lockheed Air Terminal Burbank, California 0935 5 August 1943
They were taken to an unimpressive two-story masonry building that was just inside the fence and perhaps three hundred yards from the gate. It was not the same building to which they had been taken the night before.
As they were getting out of the Carryalls, a Border Patrol officer with major’s insignia on his epaulets came out of the building and signaled to the captain that he wanted a word with him out of hearing of the others.
“Wait here, please, gentlemen,” the Border Patrol captain ordered more than a little arrogantly.
At the last moment, Frade resisted the temptation to pop to attention, salute, and bellow, “Aye, aye, sir!” Instead, he gave the captain a thumbs-up signal, which he was pleased to find seemed to annoy the captain.
Clete took a closer look at the building.
A legend had been cast into the concrete over the door:
LOUGHEAD AIRCRAFT MANUFACTURING COMPANY
“Loughead”?
Can’t they spell?
How do you pronounce that? “Lewg-head”? “Log-head”?
Maybe that was the original name and Howard changed it. He said he changed Trans-continental and Western Airways to Trans-World Airlines.
There came the sound of multiple powerful aircraft engines on takeoff power. Everyone quickly looked for the source—and then found it. There was a runway running parallel to the building and the fence.
Coming down the runway was a brand-new P-38 glistening in the early-morning California sun. By the time the twin-engine, twin-tail Lightning reached them, it was airborne, its landing gear nearly retracted. The pilot apparently had pulled back on the stick the moment he had gotten a green gear-up-and-locked light, because the nose of the fighter lifted as he made a steep climbing turn to the right.
Clete heard himself grunt.
That’s what the hell I should be doing, flying something like that.
I’m a fighter pilot, not a damn fly-gently-so-as-to-not-disturb-the-passengers aerial bus driver.
As the Lightning rapidly grew smaller as it climbed, there came the sound again of powerful engines at takeoff power, and another P-38 roared down the runway. This one also had its gear retracted by the time it reached them and had begun a steep climbing turn in the direction of the first fighter. Sixty seconds after that second Lightning passed them, there again came the sounds of engines on takeoff power, and a third P-38 took off.
Clete watched the third plane until it vanished from sight, then looked at the SAA captains. He saw from their faces there was no question that they were awed.
Well, why not? The hottest planes in the Argentine air force are the Curtiss P-36 Hawks. They were obsolete even before we sold them to Argentina before the war.
“Those were the P-38 Lightning, were they not, Cletus?” Delgano asked.
“Yes, they were.”
“Is that what you flew when you were in the Corps of Marines?”