Office of the USIS Administrative Officer for Housing and
Medical Services
United States Embassy
Sarmiento 663
Palermo, Buenos Aires, Argentina
1505 3 February 1965
“White House Secure,” a male voice said, the clarity surprising Johnny Oliver.
“Two-two-seven, please.”
“Two-two-seven, Mr. Finton.”
“John Oliver, Finton. Is the boss there?”
“Hold one.”
“Felter.”
“Oliver, sir.”
“I know.”
“Sir, I’ve been talking to Colonel Lowell’s friend from Virginia. ”
“The CIA station chief? Stephens?”
The CIA station chief was sitting behind his desk, smiling. He had made it plain from the beginning that he intended to listen to the conversation. Oliver didn’t like it, but it was Stephens’s radio link to the White House secure switchboard, and there was nothing that could be done about it.
“Yes, sir.”
“And?”
“It would make things easier for Otmanio if his wife was here. Otherwise, he’s going to have to live with the Marine Guards, and can’t have a private automobile.”
There was a fifteen-second pause before Felter replied.
“No problem with that,” Felter said. “As soon as I can get DA to cut orders, she’ll be on a plane. What about Rangio? Any contact with him?”
“We were supposed to land at Ezeiza. We were diverted to the military field at Campo de Mayo. Rangio was there. It turns out he and Zammoro are old, and apparently close, friends.”
“Shit,” the CIA station chief said bitterly. Oliver wondered if Felter could hear him.
The pause this time was longer.
“That got by me somehow,” Felter said. “Well, what do you want to do?”
Oliver didn’t expect the question. He expected a decision, orders, not a request for his opinion.
“That association could be very valuable, sir,” he said.
“That occurred to me. I asked what you want to do?”
“I would like to use his connection, sir.”
“Why do you think he didn’t tell us?”
“De la Santiago thinks he was afraid if you knew you wouldn’t have sent him down here.”
“De la Santiago’s right. The question was, what do you think?”
“I agree with de la Santiago, sir.”
“Then the question becomes, is he down there as a team player or because it’ll give him a clear shot at Guevara?”
“I’d vote for team player, sir.”
Jesus, that was my mouth on full automatic! I didn’t consider that response, I just made it.
“The State Department tells me the Argentines won’t do it.”
“Zammoro’s relationship with Rangio may change that, sir.”
“You understand that if I insist that State ask for diplomatic status for them after they’ve said the Argentines won’t give it, and they’re proved right, they will make sure the President sees the egg on my face?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You want to ask Rangio first?”
“I’ll ask Zammoro to ask him. See what happens then.”
“Let me know what happens then,” Felter said. “Anything else?”
“No, sir.”
"The sooner you’re back here, the better, I guess you know,” Felter said.
“Has something come up, sir?”
“You and Jack are the newlyweds,” Felter said, chuckled, and hung up.
“White House Secure,” a male voice said. “Are you clear?”
“Clear,” Oliver said, and put the handset in its cradle.
“You had to tell him, huh?” Stephens asked.
“Army officers are like Boy Scouts,” Oliver said. “We’re not supposed to lie, cheat, or steal.”
“I think that’s West Point cadets,” Stephens said.
“Actually, it’s Norwich,” Jack said. “We had the honor code before Hudson High.”
“Whatever,” Stephens said. “If you really believe that, maybe you’re in the wrong line of work. Lying, stealing, cheating, and worse, are part of this territory.”
“What about ‘all’s fair in love and war’?” Jack asked.
“Maybe there’s hope for you, at least, Lieutenant,” Stephens said. “So what did the legendary Colonel Felter have to say?”
“You couldn’t hear?”
“Call it confirmation of what I hope I heard,” Stephens said.
“He’s going to send Otmanio’s wife down here,” Oliver said. “And I was right, he didn’t know Zammoro and Rangio are old buddies. He left the decision up to me.”
“We lucked out,” Stephens said. “I don’t think you really understand how valuable that connection can be.”
“He said he was honorable, not stupid,” Jack said.
Stephens looked at Jack. One eyebrow went up, but he didn’t respond.
“I suppose the next step is to talk to Zammoro,” Oliver said.
“Rangio gave me a number to call.”
“Your next step is to make your manners to Colonel Harris,” Stephens said.
“Okay,” Oliver said. “Then Zammoro. I suppose you want to sit in on that, too?”
“Oh, no. By now Rangio has already warned Zammoro to stay away from me.”
“Rangio knows who you are . . . what you do?”
"Oh, sure. I often wonder who we think we’re fooling with these cover jobs.”