"Thanks," Dave grunted. And then not being able to choke off the question, "But how come you knew we'd been promoted?"
General von Peiplow chuckled and slowly closed one eye.
"It is my business to know everything," he said. "And let me compliment you two by saying that the names, Dawson and Farmer, are well known in the German Luftwaffe. Frankly, I am very pleased to be able to meet you at last."
The Nazi smiled as he spoke but there was a chill in Dave's heart. It was almost as though he suddenly saw the real man behind that kind smile and that good looking face. Colonel Comstadt was ugly, and animal from the top of his big head to the bottom of his big feet. His brutality, and his murderous instincts were all on the surface for the whole world to see. But not so, General von Peiplow. He was the polished Nazi. The educated and well mannered type of Hitler henchman. In reality, though, he was three times as deadly and dangerous as the lumpy Comstadt. The Gestapo man slaughtered with his bare hands. General von Peiplow, however, killed men with his brains, his treachery, and his diabolical cunning.
"Didn't figure we were that famous," Dave presently said. "So what?"
"So what?" the German murmured and arched an eyebrow. "So, I think it would be splendid if we all had a little talk, don't you?"
A quiver of excitement shot through Dave but he kept his face a blank.
"Suits us," he said with a shrug. "But I don't know what there is for us to talk about."
"Oh, there are lots of things," General von Peiplow smiled. Then gesturing with his riding crop, "Come along with me where it will be more comfortable. Ah, your pardon, Gentlemen! You are perhaps a bit hungry, eh?"
Dave heard Freddy speak, but he could hardly believe his ears.