Джон Болл - The First Team

“Good idea,” Culp agreed.

When the newcomers had settled down Barbara informally took the floor. “Tonight we’re due for a briefing from one of the higher placed people in our organization. His code name is Percival; that’s all I can tell you, except that I’ll know how to recognize him. Hew, you’ve met him, haven’t you?”

Hewlitt nodded. “Yes, the man I’ve been working for introduced me.” He stopped when he heard a sound behind him, turned, and saw Percival coming into the room.

There was no need for introductions. Percival took one of the bar stools and swung around to face the group. He looked at Barbara for a moment and then asked, “Are you satisfied as to my identity?”

“Yes,” Barbara answered. “And now that I’ve seen you, I know who you are.”

“Do I have your confidence?”

“Absolutely.” She spoke the word without emphasis, but with full meaning.

Percival looked around. “The rest of you, except for Hew and Davy, will have to take me on faith.” He surveyed the group once more. “I know each of you well by reputation, so from my standpoint, at least, we aren’t meeting for the first time. I know what you have been doing over the past several weeks and I know too that each of you has been implicitly following the instructions that were passed on to you.”

“That wasn’t much,” one of the secret service men said.

“It was a great deal,” Percival corrected him. “You’ve collectively provided us with more valuable information than you may realize. It’s helped us. So much so that we’re moving this unit closer to the center of our operation. I’ll be working with you directly as well as through Barbara’s contact and Davy here.”

“Something’s moving, then,” Culp said.

“Something is. You may not know this, but we have a large and highly competent organization. And we’re not powerless. This is all totally secret information; don’t discuss it, even here. Now, because of the importance of your location, and the level of talent that you represent, I’ve been instructed to tell you that there is a central nucleus that’s running this outfit. We call it the First Team, and you’d better believ^ that they are. They’re all men of extraordinary capacity and they aren’t working in the dark. They’re on the job continuously and they have resources — more than you might imagine. You can thank God for that.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” the other secret service man said.

Percival stopped while Davy put a drink in his hand; he sampled it and then spoke his thanks. “Now about this house,” he went on. “It’s protected in a good many ways. It has certain features which make it all but impossible to bug without our knowing it immediately. Some useful equipment is stored here. And if it becomes necessary, we have a way of getting you out; not a sure one, but it’s a good bet and a lot better than nothing.”

He tried his drink once more and then set the glass down carefully. “Now for the cover for this place. Insofar as the enemy is concerned, and probably the neighbors as well, it’s going to be a private brothel, of which there are a considerable number in this city. We arranged to have both of these young ladies evicted from their quarters. They did a suitable amount of apartment hunting before they came here on Hew’s suggestion — that is if anybody ever asks. We’re moving two more of our girls in here; both of them are totally reliable. Hew, you spoke to one of them on the phone, if you remember. So you see the setup.”

“We come here to see our girls,” Culp said.

“Right, and sometimes spend the night, as anyone would expect. All four of the girls have agreed to this, so their reputations go out the window.”

“That’s not a consideration,” Barbara said.

“Will we be told when to come?” Hewlitt asked.

“Yes, and also you can come on your own for purely social reasons if you’d like. Davy will front as the owner and very tolerant landlord.”

“There really are places like this,” Mary said.

“Lots,” Percival answered her, “so feel easy in your mind. It’s a very good cover for the men coming here. One or two more points that are important: first, if anything happens to me, my replacement, man or woman, will be Rodney. Secondly, when you come in, never say a compromising word until you have looked at the bar first. If there is a bottle standing on it, any kind of a bottle, that will be the danger signal — even if someone is sitting there with it. Pay no attention to what he or she might say about it being all right. If you use the bar, never set the bottle on the top unless you mean it as a definite warning.”

He lowered his head for a moment or two; when he looked up his face was possibly a shade more serious than it had been before. “I’ll tell you this,” he said. “The work you’re doing, the risks you’re taking, aren’t for nothing. You’ll know soon enough. When it breaks, some of you may have a lot more to do — you’ll be informed. Stay with it.”

Hewlitt looked at Barbara wondering how all of this sat with her. She looked back at him evenly — clear-eyed and unafraid. At that moment he had a vague stirring, a first realization that perhaps he was falling in love with her. As a woman she was totally desirable, but much more even than that she had an inner strength, an intelligence, that set her way apart from the rest. She could pull her own share and more. She was a helluva girl.

“Any questions?” Percival asked.

“You made it all very clear,” Mary answered him. “We’ll do the best we can.”

There was general agreement, unspoken but indicated just the same.

Barbara was the cell leader, and she summed it up for them all. “God bless this whorehouse,” she said.

Marc Orberg was impatient and restless. His trip had begun badly when he had discovered that first-class seats had been discontinued by the airplanes and he had been compelled to ride in a seat much too narrow to suit his sense of luxury. Furthermore, the people who had taken places next to him had talked in whispers and then gone to the back of the aircraft to sit by themselves. No one had asked him for his autograph on the whole trip.

To hell with them! They would hear about him again soon enough; in the new role he was about to assume they would be coming to him in droves, begging and pleading for favors. And if there were any good-looking chicks among them, they knew what they could do if they wanted him to help them.

At the beach he was disappointed in the press turnout for the landing. The fact that he would appear in person had not been adequately announced, although Nat had sent out all of the usual notices. However the hour was still early, he had seen to that so that no misguided publicity seekers would be there ahead of him to get in his way. To be sure that he would be recognized by everyone on sight, those who were landing and those who had come to witness the spectacle, he had put on his trademark clothing: the laced shirt, the tight trousers, the high-topped shoes. There was only one Marc Orberg — there could be only one because no one else had his combination of looks, talent, and solid cast-iron guts. He was afraid of nothing and nobody; he had proven that when he had busted the whole damn United States Government with the Orberg decision against the draft.

He walked a few steps up and down. There was no son-of-a-bitch in the whole Goddamned world who could stand up to him. He had never been to Sweden, but he knew that they adored him there because his parents had been Swedish and because no one had ever punished the establishment the way that he had. They liked that kind of thing in Sweden. He tossed his head back and looked up into the sky. He let his imagination take over for a short while and visualized himself, still youthful and full of the vigor that made him great, standing before the Royal Academy and receiving the Nobel Prize — the youngest man ever to be so honored.