“How did Felter know what happened in the Katyn Forest?” Rangio asked. “That General von Greiffenberg knew about it?”
“While General von Greiffenberg—he was then a colonel— was recuperating from wounds during the war, he ran a prisoner-of -war camp for American officers. He took several of them to the forest and let them judge for themselves, from the evidence, who had been responsible.”
“In the face of all the evidence,” Rangio said, “I am absolutely unable to understand why so many people refuse to believe the truth about the Russians.”
“Willi,” Pistarini said resignedly, “how many Argentines absolutely refuse to believe the truth, despite the evidence, about Perón and his wife?”
Rangio shrugged.
“I also think Felter, and probably Gehlen,” Lowell went on, “agreed that with von Greiffenberg’s anti-Nazi credentials, plus his Russian experiences, he would almost certainly attain high rank in the German Army, might even become chief of intelligence. Getting him out was costly; they had to think carefully about doing it. But to answer your basic question, Willi, they did not get him out because he was my father-in-law.”
“I didn’t mean to imply—”
Lowell waved his hand in a dismissal of that, then went on:
“Anyway, the Korean War came along, and Felter went over there, by then an intelligence officer.”
“It must be hard to be an intelligence officer if you don’t speak the language,” Rangio mused out loud.
“Felter speaks Korean,” Lowell said. “And Russian. And Greek. And Vietnamese, and . . .”
“And Spanish?” Pistarini asked.
“Probably. I never asked him, but it wouldn’t surprise me. In fact, I’d bet on it.”
“He’s like your General Vernon Walters,1then?” Pistarini asked.
Lowell looked at him in surprise.
“I met the general in Washington,” Pistarini said. “An amazing man. I heard he only has to hear a language for a couple of hours, and he can speak it.”
“I don’t know if Felter is as good as General Walters, but he’s close,” Lowell said.
“And that is how he reached his—what shall I say? Current position. As a linguist?”
“Something like that,” Lowell said. “When Eisenhower was elected, before he was inaugurated, he went to Korea. Felter was assigned as his interpreter, and when Ike left Korea, Felter was on the plane with him. And he’s been a counselor to the President ever since. Kennedy after Eisenhower, Johnson after Kennedy.”
“But you would agree, would you not, that he is more than a presidential interpreter?” Pistarini said.
“I think that would be a fair statement,” Lowell said.
“And is President Johnson aware of the decision that he and General von Greiffenberg have reached about Dr. Guevara?” Pistarini asked.
“It was Colonel Felter’s recommendation, sir. President Johnson went along with the logic. Felter was sent to tell von Greiffenberg of the President’s decision, and he took me along to helpconvince him of the wisdom of the decision. There was no argument—von Greiffenberg and Felter are in complete agreement that everybody’s best interests are served by keeping Guevara alive.”
“And you’re here on the same sort of mission?”
“Yes, sir, as I told you.”
“If it were up to you personally, Father,” Pistarini asked, “how would you handle the problem of Dr. Guevara?”
“I’m a soldier, General,” Father said, just a little thickly. “I do what I’m told, but if it were up to me, I’d blow the murdering sonofabitch away the first chance I got.”
And so, Lowell thought, would you, Willi, to judge from your no longer expressionless face.
And then Pistarini read Lowell’s mind.
“It would seem that Willi and Father are having trouble understanding the reasoning of your president and von Greiffenberg, Craig,” he said.
“And you, sir?”
“I agree with the decision,” Pistarini said. “Argentina already has one modern-day martyr in Evita. The country doesn’t need another one.”
Willi’s face showed disappointment.
“What are you proposing, Colonel Lowell?” Pistarini asked.
“We will share our intelligence on his activities with you,” Lowell said. “We would like that to be reciprocal.”
“Willi?”
“That raises questions,” Rangio said, looking at Lowell, “how do we know what we’re getting is all you have, and that it can be trusted?”
“It’s in our interest to see that you have everything, and I hope you will see that it is in yours to give us what you have.”
“Anything else?” Pistarini asked.
“The army attaché at our embassy here is about to get an airplane, a twin Beech, what we call the L-23.”
“Very nice. I know the aircraft,” Pistarini said. “How much does Colonel Harris know of all this?”
“Very little. I’m going to see him tomorrow, and I will tell him as little as possible.”