Chapter Two Thousand Six
25th July 1970
Near Los Grutas, Rio Negro Province, Argentina
After two days on the road, some fifteen hundred kilometers, finally reaching the destination was a relief. The unrelenting sameness of the Patagonian Steppe which National Route 3 ran through was punishing. Even the occasional sight of the Atlantic Ocean, which was always to their right did little to break up the monotony. Turning off the road, the Iltis rolled across first railroad tracks and then a cattle guard onto a dirt track.
“How big is this place?” Manfred heard Christian ask over the radio, he was in the other Iltis that was trailing them.
“This is one small corner of it” Manfred replied, “The estate is the roughly the size of Saxony, and the Don’s interests extend down the coast. I would say that you have probably driven across land that he owns in the Santa Cruz Province.”
Manfred heard Christian give a low whistle. El Coronel Don Martzel Asier Ibarra was incredibly rich by anyone’s standards, the land was just a small part of it. There were several mostly legal operations in the countryside that were pouring money into his coffers. The briefing that the BND had given him before they had left Rio Gallegos had been informative filling in a lot of details that he had not known about the man. Having been recruited by Abwehr back in the 30’s, Martzel had been involved with the covert side of the Spanish and Soviet Wars. Somewhere along the way, Martzel had gotten rich, retired to his native Argentina at a relatively young age and come with an impressive résumé from his time in German service. Just the fact that the Argentine Government had given him an Army Officer’s Commission and allowed him to carve out his own kingdom in Patagonia spoke volumes.
They continued north according to the compass for a considerable period of time. Looking out into the distance, Manfred couldn’t imagine what this place would be like during the summertime, flat, hot, and brown as opposed to flat, cold and brown he supposed. They crossed a low range of hills and to Manfred’s amazement, there were trees growing in the wide valley they were dropping down into. They passed through a tiny village that wasn’t even on the map and turned to drive west along the river. Manfred realized that this place probably existed entirely because Martzel wanted it here and it was a planned community, shades of Feudalism.
“Rook to Gold Three, can we get a status update?” Manfred heard a voice crackling with static and the strange distortion caused by the Command Net encoder say. It was all he could do not to tell Rook to fuck off.
“Mission is proceeding as planned” Manfred said, “We are nearing the Casa now.”
Even as he said it, Manfred saw the Casa coming into view. It looked more like a fortress than a house. It was clearly designed to be both functionable as well as defensible. The first question Manfred might have asked was if that was necessary. When he had a chance to think about it though, he realized that if there was trouble out here, they couldn’t just call the police.
“Thank you Gold Three, I’ll pass that on to the Prospector, Rook out” Rook said, and that channel went dead.
As the Commander of this operation, Manfred was given wide latitude in how he went about doing it. However, the Brass liked to be appraised of what was going on. That was where Rook came in and he was a miserable bastard. Leaning back in his seat, Manfred made an obscene gesture at the sky and it was his hope that Rook got a good look. Maus saw what Manfred had done and started laughing.
Driving through the gates of the Casa, Manfred stepped out of the Iltis. After sitting all day in the passenger seat his legs felt rubbery, much to his annoyance. Taking off his helmet, he strode towards the doors of the main building. He got quite a greeting when the door opened. Christian was walking a pace behind Manfred, and he heard him mutter “What the fuck?” The House Staff were lined up in the entry hall. Martzel stood on the front staircase with his wife.
“Welcome to the Casa Graf von Mischner” Martzel said with a smile.
“I think you have me confused with my father” Manfred replied.
Martzel just shrugged. “You are a long way from Berlin, so no one here cares” He said before looking at Christian, “Just who is this?”
“Unterfeldwebel Weise” Manfred replied, “The Leader of the Squad that accompanied me.”
“Very well” Martzel said, “Tell him that he and the rest of your men are my guests tonight.”
Christian was standing right there so Manfred didn’t need to say a word. He wondered what Martzel was playing at with this show. A minute later, he followed Martzel into the Salón and the Staff scattered the instant Martzel’s back was turned.
“We have a meal planned for this evening that will be a treat for you” Martzel said.
“I am not this important” Manfred replied, “If the Oberstlieutent were here I could understand it, not me.”
“You’re a German Dragoon Teniente Primero in Patagonia” Martzel said, “That makes you more important than you realize.”
“Perhaps” Manfred said.
“That also makes you privy to the plans of your Government in Rio Gallegos.”
As soon as Martzel said that, Manfred knew what the game was. He was getting pumped for information in this place where Martzel basically was the State.
“We had been considering winning over the local people in the Far South by providing them with Medical and Educational opportunities” Manfred said.
“That is a load of bullshit” Martzel said, his entire attitude changing. “Where do the guns come in?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about” Manfred replied.
“Perhaps you are out of the loop, but I find that unlikely” Martzel said, “Allende and his attack dog Pinochet are running out of options. So, everyone expects them to start a short, victorious war to keep from getting overthrown.
“What does that have to do with weapons?”
“Those are my people you are attempting to win over” Martzel said, “They know if there is a war, they are living what will be one of the battlefields and that Buenos Aires doesn’t give a shit about them.”
That was something that Manfred had not considered.