—
As darkness fell, Cronley thought he saw another proof of his incompetence—or at least his inability to think problems through—within minutes of Dunwiddie’s return to Kloster Grünau in the other Storch.
Dunwiddie reported that they had heard from Lieutenant Stratford’s sergeant that the two ambulances had arrived at the ASA’s relay station outside Frankfurt.
“I told them to leave wherever they are at 0900 for Eschborn. One at 0900 and the other at 0930.”
“Why are they going to do that?” Cronley asked.
“So (a) they know how to get to Eschborn, and (b) we know how long it’s going to take them. We’ll use the longest time as the standard.”
“I should have thought of that, too,” Cronley confessed.
Dunwiddie looked at him curiously. Cronley explained that he had also not thought about confining the Germans to the Pullach compound so that the turned Germans known to be among them could not communicate with the NKGB.
Dunwiddie’s response was much like General Gehlen’s.
“You’ve got a lot on your plate, Jim. Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Okay, I figure if you leave at first light for Eschborn, you should be back here at, say, half past two.”
“Right.”
Tiny has a good reason that I should fly to Eschborn. I will pretend I have thought of that good reason, because I don’t want to look as incompetent as I am.
Oh. General principles. To be as sure as possible that a plan will work, perform a dry run.
Jesus, I didn’t think of even that!
“How’s Konstantin?” Dunwiddie asked.
“We—Gehlen, Mannberg, and I—matched wits again with him at lunch. General Gehlen and I are in agreement that we don’t know who won. But he did eat his lunch and drink a beer.”
“Well, I will examine the subject carefully at supper and then render my expert opinion. But Gehlen said he can’t tell who’s winning?”
“That’s what he said.”
Cronley had a sudden epiphany, and blurted it out.
“I can. I do. Orlovsky’s winning. Or he thinks he’s winning, which is just about the same thing. He thinks that he’s got us figured out and that he’s smarter than we are. Which is probably true.”
“I have the feeling you decided that just now.”
“I did. I don’t know why I didn’t—or Gehlen didn’t—figure that out earlier, but that’s it. I’m sure of it.”
“What didn’t you figure out?”
“He was too relaxed. There was no battle of wits, because he wasn’t playing that game. Instead of us playing with him, he was playing with us. Now we’re back to my examining the subject at dinner.”
“Let’s go talk to Gehlen.”
—
“Jim, I don’t know,” General Gehlen said as Dunwiddie freshened the Haig & Haig scotch whisky in his glass. “But I did have a thought about Konstantin that I didn’t share with anyone.”
“What kind of a thought?”
“What you and Tiny would probably call a wild hair.”
“Let’s hear it.”