W.E.B. Griffin - The Corps VII - Behind the Lines

He hoped Pickering wouldn't do anything foolish. Certainly, Pickering wasn't a fool, but he was naive in the ways of Washington politics. Rickabee admired Pickering.

At first, he was willing to admit, his own ego smarted when Frank Knox named Pickering Chief of the Office of Management Analysis. Rickabee had built the organization from scratch over many years, and had run it with some skill and success. He didn't think he needed the advice, much less the supervi-sion, of an amateur like Pickering. He had no choice, however, but to swallow his resentment-consoling himself with the thought that Pickering's flag offi-cer's rank would be useful. In rank-conscious Washington that was important. And Rickabee believed he could control Pickering.

That did not prove necessary. For Pickering immediately made it quite clear that he considered Rickabee the expert, while he himself had some expe-rience in "a situation like this"-being in charge of someone who knew more than he did. Pickering explained how the death of his father had suddenly elevated him to the office of Chairman of the Board of Pacific and Far East Ship-ping Corporation when he was still in his twenties.

"All of sudden, Colonel," Pickering said, "I found myself giving orders to the Commodore of Pacific and Far East Shipping Corporation's eighty-one-ship fleet, who was not only old enough to be my father, but under whom I had sailed as a second mate."

"That must have been difficult."

"You're not old enough to be my father, Colonel, but I recognize your experience and expertise. So I hope to build the same kind of relationship with you I had with the Commodore."

It was at that moment Rickabee realized that Pickering understood the sub-tleties of command.

"While the responsibility for everything that happens is now mine," Pick-ering went on, "I am perfectly aware that you've been in charge here because you are the most experienced and competent officer available. It would there-fore be foolish of me to question your judgment in any but the most extraordi-nary circumstances."

At the time, Rickabee wondered if Pickering meant what he was saying, or simply pouring oil on potentially troubling waters. It soon became apparent that Pickering meant what he said.

Pickering rarely questioned any of Rickabee's decisions, and only once went against his strongly felt advice. In Rickabee's professional judgment, the effort and the assets required to take Lieutenant Joseph L. Howard, USMC, and Sergeant Stephen M. Koffler, USMCR, off Buka could not be militarily justified.

Pickering overrode that logical conclusion on what he admitted were emo-tional grounds: He had learned in the trenches in France as an eighteen-year-old that Marines did not leave their wounded behind. He ordered the rescue operation.

This episode taught both men something about the weaknesses of the other. Pickering learned that Rickabee was indeed, where necessary, abso-lutely ruthless. And Rickabee learned that despite the stars on his uniform, Pickering thought like a Marine sergeant.

The confrontation in no way diminished the respect, and the growing af-fection, they had begun to feel for each other. A Marine officer charged with clandestine intelligence had to be ruthless. And a Marine general officer's heartfelt concern for the welfare of a junior officer and an enlisted man could hardly be called a character flaw.

"Am I permitted to ask what's going on around here?" Captain Haughton asked.

The coffee table of General Pickering's suite was covered with paper. Also covered with paper was a folding card table and something like a typewriter. After a moment he recognized it as an obsolete Device, Cryptographic, M94.

"Well, for the last half hour or so, Banning has been trying to teach Ses-sions how to use that thing. Sessions is taking it and some other stuff to Bris-bane, where he will teach McCoy how to use it. Until we make the first physical contact with Fertig, take him a decent crypto device-which Sessions will also teach McCoy to use-we have a small communications problem: Where does Fertig think McCoy should get off the submarine? When should he get off the submarine?"

"Yeah," Haughton said thoughtfully. "What other stuff is Sessions tak-ing over there?"

"Banning's been talking to a Navy psychiatrist-" "Brilliant man," Banning interrupted. "He certified me as sane when I came out of the Philippines."

Haughton chuckled a little nervously, and then Rickabee surprised him.

"That's true, that's true," he said, laughing. "If I'd remembered that, I'd have sent you to another one. Anyway, he's come up with sort of a checklist, things McCoy should look for to see if Fertig might be off the rails."

"1 also talked to some people who had guerrilla, counterguerrilla, experi-ence in the Banana Republics," Banning said. "They came up with some ma-terial, organizational material, McCoy's going to offer to Fertig."

"How are you going to handle the problem of getting McCoy... McCoy and the others ashore and in contact with Fertig?" Haughton asked.

"Well, in the final analysis, that's up to McCoy. What I'm going to recom-mend is that shortly before we send McCoy and Zimmerman ashore, we will send Fertig a vague message saying to expect visitors-"

"You heard that the Secretary told General Holcomb to arrange that trans-fer?" Haughton interrupted.

Banning nodded, and went on:

"-to make contact with Fertig. When that's done, Fertig will contact the submarine, which will be lying off shore, with a new code McCoy will have (who'll also have a new crypto device, of course); and he can set up a place where the supplies and gold can be off-loaded from the sub. How they'll get out, and when, is still up in the air." Haughton nodded. "Maybe these OSS people will have some ideas," Banning said. "We get them tomorrow?"

"First thing tomorrow morning."

"There may be some trouble getting them over there," Rickabee said. "We laid on only one AAAAA priority, for Sessions. Now we'll need three."

"If you have any trouble, let me know."

"I will," Rickabee said.

"Who are these people? Have you got names?" Banning asked.

"Yes, I do," Haughton said. He dug in his pocket and came up with the three-by-five card Colonel Donovan had given Secretary Knox, and which Knox had passed on to him.

"Brownlee, Major James C. III," he read, "and Macklin, Captain Rob-ert B."

"What was that second name?" Banning asked, incredulously.

"Macklin, Captain Robert B."

"I don't believe this," Banning said.

"You know him?"

"If it's the same guy-and I don't think there's that many Marine officers around named Macklin-yeah, I know him," Banning said. "I sent him home from China with an efficiency report, endorsed by Chesty Puller, that should have seen the sonofabitch kicked out of The Corps."

"Tell me about him," Rickabee said coldly.

Banning delivered a sixty-second precis of the multiple character flaws of Captain Robert B. Macklin, USMC. "I wonder what moron promoted the sonofabitch," he observed bitterly when he was finished.

Rickabee looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Captain Haughton," he said formally, "if it is determined that the officer in question is indeed the one with whom Major Banning is familiar, it will be necessary to inform Colonel Donovan that he is unacceptable to us."

"Christ, Fritz, I don't know," Haughton said.

"If he is the officer with whom Major Banning is familiar," Rickabee re-peated, "he is unacceptable to us." Haughton shrugged.

"How do we find out?"

"Presumably, Banning will recognize him when he reports for duty," Rickabee said.

[ONE]

USMC Office of Management Analysis

Temporary Building T-2032

The Mall, Washington, D.C.