Harry Harrison: Stars and Stripes In Peril

“An ambitious idea and a very original one. Do you think that you can do it? As I remember it, there is absolutely no one in the military who likes anyone else looking over his shoulder.”

“You are right of course — it is not easily done. Too many people in the field are used to keeping information to themselves. Commanding generals in particular. Pardon my saying so but they are an ornery lot who are very much used to making decisions on their own. But we are building a powerful weapon to convince them differently.”

“Indeed?”

“We will also be making relevant abstracts from the daily report. These will be wired daily in code to an intelligence officer on their staff. When they begin to see information relating to their individual commands, they should allow reports to move in the opposite direction.”

“I wish you all the luck in the world, my boy. But, as you said — they are an ornery lot.”

“Thank you. We can but try. At the present time only the very upper echelon officers know of our existence — and we mean to keep it that way. To everyone else we are, well, just Room 313.”

Fox led Lincoln to the armchair, across from a leather couch, where the President stretched out his gangling form as he looked around the room. Maps covered most of the wall space between the banks of filing cabinets. Fine mesh curtains draped the windows so that no one on the outside could look in. There were two doors on the far wall — one of which opened now and let in the sound of clattering telegraph bars. A soldier brought in a sheet of paper and gave it to Gustavus Fox without comment. He glanced at it and put it aside.

“It is Mexico that concerns us most at the present time,” he said.

“Concerns me too. It is a well-known fact that the Mexican government has borrowed millions from Britain and France — and appears to be unwilling or unable to pay them back. I would normally feel that we have had enough problems of our own to worry about, not to take the time to bother our minds about our neighbor to the south. But I just don’t like the way that the Emperor Napoleon and the English Queen have sent over military bill collectors by the thousands to lay their hands on the Mexican national treasury.”

“You are very correct, Mr. President. They came as bill collectors — but they have stayed as an army of occupation. The French have even managed to arrange a rigged vote requesting that the Archduke Maximilian of Austria be established as Emperor. The whole world knows that the ballot was a complete fake — but Maximilian has managed to convince himself, against all evidence, that there really was a public call for him. He and his wife, the Belgian princess Carlotta, have now arrived and, supported by the French armies, he rules in their name. And there is much worse.”

Lincoln folded his legs on the chair before him, wrapped his arms around them and shook his head. “And now I am afraid that you are going to tell me the bad news.”

“Not I — but one who has an intimate and personal account of events in Mexico. Does the name Ambrosio O’Higgins mean anything to you?”

“It rings a distant bell. Yes, there was a politician by that name! Wasn’t he the governor of Chile?”

“He was. An Irishman who made his mark in the new world. His son, Bernardo O’Higgins, helped throw the Spaniards out of Chile and went on to govern the country as well. The O’Higgins family has been prominent in South American history. Now the namesake of the first O’Higgins, Don Ambrosio O’Higgins, is following in his father’s and grandfather’s footsteps. But he is making his mark in Mexico, not Chile, this time. He is the man I want you to meet.”

Fox pressed a button fixed to a table next to him; a moment later the second door opened and a clerk poked his head in. “Tell Lobo to come in now,” Fox said. When the door had closed again he added, “We use code names wherever possible to keep the identity of our agents secret.”

“A wise precaution. And that is surely a magic button you have there,” Lincoln said.

“Not really. It’s run by electricity, like the telegraph. When I press it, it rings a bell in the other room.”

“Well I will just have to get one of them for myself. I can press away all day and surely keep my secretaries on the hop.”

They both stood when O’Higgins came in. A dark-haired young man, still in his twenties. He was tanned by the sun, as dark as any other Latin-American, but none of them had his pale-blue eyes of the Celt. With true Irish loquacity he spoke first.

“President Lincoln, I am merely speaking the truth when I say that meeting you now makes this the most memorable moment in my life. I fight for a country’s freedom and look to you, the leader of the world’s greatest democracy, to be a guiding light in the darkness for all of those who battle for justice and democracy of our own.” He took Lincoln’s extended hand in his own and held it tightly, looking at the same time into the president’s eyes. Lincoln smiled.

“If you can say that just as well in Spanish,” he said, “why, young man, I predict a great future for you as a politician.”

“Someday, perhaps — when the oppressors have been driven from the land. Yes, then I might very well seek public office. Because if any lessons can be learned from history, it is the sad truth that too many rebellions are lost after victory. It appears that fighters rarely make good politicians. But for now my work is to see that the dark forces of the invaders are defeated and driven from the land. Only when this has been done will there be the free elections that will permit me to then consider the possibility of being a politician.”

“An understandable goal. But for the moment you are a—”

“Spy. An undercover agent. What you will. Mr. Fox has given me the code name of Lobo. So it is as the lone wolf that I spy for him.”

“And you have just returned from Mexico?”

“I have. Late last night. You must understand that this was no spur-of-the-moment idea. I went there at the behest of Mr. Fox, here. A gentleman whom I am happy to have served in the past. I had never visited Mexico before he sent me there. Now I can truthfully say that I have a great affection for these downtrodden Mexicans. It is Mr. Fox here whom I must thank for giving me the opportunity to meet and understand these much-oppressed people. I have grown to understand and admire them. But for now I am Mr. Fox’s humble servant.”

“Not that humble,” Fox said. “But Mr. O’Higgins’s linguistic abilities, coupled with a flair for this kind of work, has made him into one of our most reliable agents. For some time now we have had reports of foreign troop movements in Mexico. They were most disturbing and we needed to know much more. This was when I asked him to leave Spain, where he has served with great efficiency, and travel to Mexico to discover just what was happening. If you will look here…”

They followed Fox across the room to one of the large maps.

“ Mexico,” he said, tapping the green, inverted triangle of that land. “The French landed in strength last year, here in the port of Vera Cruz on the Gulf coast. They suffered a major defeat last year on the fifth of May, in the battle of Puebla. Over a thousand of their troops were killed. But the Emperor Napoleon was too committed by this time to the conquest of Mexico, so he has sent thirty thousand fresh troops under the command of General Forey. A far more able general than his predecessor — who since his arrival defeated all of the Mexican armies that he has engaged in battle. Under the pretence that he is ‘liberating’ Mexico — from its own army! In addition he is a politically knowledgeable man. With his troops standing by at the ballot boxes he has held mock elections. These are a complete fraud, but Forey has used the results to convince the French government as well as the Archduke Maximilian of Austria that he is really the people’s choice. So now the Emperor Maximilian rules from the palace of Chapultepec.”