Secret Honor by W. E. B. Griffin

Author:W. E. B. Griffin
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Historical, Thriller, Azizex666, War
ISBN: 9780515130096
Publisher: Jove
Published: 1999-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Or as she thinks they talk.

It doesn 't work. She sounds like someone from the country, who had to look up condolences and felicitations in the dictionary. There's something sad about that.

He poured Champagne into crystal glasses, wondering idly if they belonged to the hotel or whether, like the apartment, they were his.

He handed glasses to the women. "Thank you for accepting my invitation on such short notice," he said.

Neither replied, but the redhead, Estela, asked if he wasn't having any Champagne.

"Of course I am," he said, and poured himself a glass.

"This is such an exquisite apartment," the blonde, Eva, said. "It has such eUan." Does she think people swallow that phony elegance?

Christ, 1 speak Tex-Mex Spanish, and even I can tell the difference.

"Thank you very much, Senorita Duarte," Clete said, and raised his glass. "To your very good health, ladies," he said.

They tapped glasses.

"You are both from Buenos Aires, I take it?" Clete asked.

I'm not good at this trying-to-be-charming business. I feel like a character in a bad high-school play.

"I'm from Cordoba, the city of Alta Gracia. Do you know it?" They call a city "High Grace " ?

"I'm afraid not," he said.

"It was founded by the Jesuits in 1588," she said proudly.

"I didn't know that," he said. "May I inquire as to your profession, Senorita—" What the hell is your last name?

"—Medina?" "I am in the administration division of the Banco Roberts," she said.

In other words, you 're a clerk.

"How interesting," Clete said. "And you, Senorita Eva?" "I am an actress," she said.

You're an actress like I'm a bullfighter. Neither one of us has the talent.

"On the stage? In the movies?" "Right now I'm a radio actress. On Radio Belgrano," Eva said.

Radio Belgrano? That rings a bell. My father had money in a radio station. Was it Radio Belgrano? Maybe I own Radio Belgrano; every time I turn around, I bump into something else that belonged to el Coronel, Incorporated.

That would sure explain how she knew who I am and that I'm getting married.

There was a knock at the door. When Clete opened it, Major Freiherr Hans-Peter von Wachtstein was standing there. "Oh, Sefior Gonzales," Clete said. "Please come in." Peter walked in, took a quick look at the redhead and the blonde, and then looked at Clete.

"Ladies, may I present Sefior Pedro Gonzales, of Madrid?" Clete said. "Pedro, the ladies are Senorita Medina and Senorita Duarte." Peter went to each of them and told them he was enchanted. And both of them seemed delighted that Sefior Gonzales was not forty-five, bald, and overweight.

"Can I offer you a glass of Champagne, Pedro?" Clete asked.

"I'd like nothing better, but I'm a little pressed for time." "We can talk in there," Clete said, nodding to one of the bedrooms. "But take a glass of Champagne with you." Clete poured a glass of Champagne, handed it to Peter, and then motioned him ahead of him into the bedroom. "Will you please excuse us, ladies?" he said. "We won't be long." He didn't close the door.

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