"For Christ's sake, what happened, Felipe?"
"The Nazis," he said. "This afternoon, a few minutes after Gamburdo quit, a Nazi submarine deliberately sank one of the Republic's unarmed freighters. It happened less than thirty miles from where we're sitting. That isn't all. The ship had time to wireless for help before she sank. And the Nazis waited until the rescue boats had picked up the survivors before they surfaced again and sank each of the boats with their deck guns."
"When did you find out?"
"Hours ago. I kept quiet because I wanted to make sure about Souza. Now it's been confirmed. He was on one of the rescue boats. He is dead."
"Why, the dirty ..."
"Wait, Mateo. There is something else. Don't go. You had a call from Radio City in New York. They want you to broadcast to America at ten o'clock tonight. The Siglo station has the hook-up here."
The clock on the Bolivar dining-room wall read eight-thirty. "I'd better go right over," Hall said. "Eat and wait for me here, Felipe. Don't bother to drive me, Pepe. I'll walk. It's less than two blocks. Have some more brandy."
"I'm going with you," Jerry said.
"Come in, San Hermano ..." Over the long-wave from Radio City.