W.E.B. Griffin - The Corps IV - Battleground

"I'll be waiting in front," Banning said and hung up.

Moore went back to the typewriter, pulled his letter to his beloved from it, read it with very little satisfaction, and started to tear it up. Then he changed his mind.

He laid the letter on the table, took a pen, and wrote, "Duty calls. I have to run. I love you more than life itself."

He addressed an envelope, wrote "free" where a stamp would normally be placed, stuffed the letter in it, and put it in his pocket. There was an Army Post Office Box at the airfield. He would mail the letter to Barbara first and then go pick up the officers.

As he drove the Studebaker to the airport, he thought that "I love you more than life itself was a pretty well-turned phrase and was sort of pleased that Major Banning's call had rescued him from more time at the typewriter.

(Two)

SUPREME HEADQUARTERS, SOUTHWEST PACIFIC

HOTEL MENZIES

MELBOURNE, VICTORIA, AUSTRALIA

1600 HOURS 1 JULY 1942

When Lieutenant Pluto Hon heard the key turning in the steel door, he quickly covered what he was working on with its TOP SECRET cover sheet and stood up. There were only three people with a key to the room, and he had told Sergeant John Marston Moore to stay at The Elms until he sent for him. Ergo, whoever was unlocking the door had to be Captain Fleming Pickering, USNR.

"How are you, Pluto?" Pickering greeted him with a smile. "What can I do for you?"

"Sir, I just asked your clerk to let me know when you had a free minute. You didn't have to come down here."

"So she said," Pickering said. "What's up?"

"Well, first, did Major Banning get to you?"

"About tonight?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Yes, he did. And you're invited, too, of course. Is that what you wanted to ask?"

"No, Sir," Hon said, and then with obvious reluctance he plunged ahead: "Sir, I'm sorry I let my mouth run away from me and asked you for Sergeant Moore."

"Oh? How come?"

"Sir, and it's obviously my fault, it's already gotten out of hand."

"How?" Pickering asked evenly. Hon felt the normal warmth leave Pickering's eyes.

"Sir, he's already guessed that what I gave him to analyze was an intercept."

"Guessed?"

"I suppose 'deduced' would be a better word."

"How was his analysis?" Pickering asked.

Hon hesitated.

"Well?" Pickering asked, impatiently.

"Sir, what popped into my mind sounds flippant. And I realize this is not the place to sound flippant."

"What popped into your mind?"

" `The true test of a man's intelligence is how much he agrees with you,'" Pluto quoted. "I gave him the MAGIC intercept from Homma to IJAGS, and the reply about prisoner rations in the Philippines."

"Refresh my mind?"

"The one Pearl Harbor thought was a reprimand to Homma, and wondered what about."

"And the one you thought meant, 'prisoners have no right to eat'?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And he agreed with you?"

"Yes, Sir. I had to prompt him a little. But just a little. I didn't give him any..."

"I'm sure you didn't," Pickering said. "And he went from that to figure out where it came from?"

"Yes, Sir. I probably handled that badly. I'm very sorry, Sir. I decided I had better tell you."

"Yeah, sure," Pickering said. He reached inside his uniform jacket and came out with a cigar case. He took a long time removing a narrow, black cigar; he then carefully trimmed it with a pocket knife and lit it with a wooden match.

Finally, he exhaled through pursed lips, examined the coal at the end, and said, "We both-me especially-should have seen that coming. Now that I really think about it, it was inevitable. OK. So where does that leave us? Worst possible scenario: What's the greatest damage?"

Pickering paused, not long enough for Pluto to respond, and then answered his own question. "We have added one more man to the loop. I mean the cryptographers at Pearl and here. They know about the existence of MAGIC. So now Moore does too. The only difference between him and them is that he is now analyzing instead of decrypting. They don't have to know that. We won't tell Pearl Harbor... we won't volunteer the information, in other words. If we did they would shit a brick. If they find out, I'll take the heat. I'll tell them I ordered you to bring him in on this. I'll say I did so because it occurred to me that if you were unavailable, broke your leg or something, I would need an analyst. That's true, come to think about it."

"Yes, Sir," Pluto said uneasily.

"In for a penny, Pluto, in for a pound," Pickering said. "I'll tell Banning what I've done, and tell him to bring Moore in on anything he thinks Moore should know. As far as Moore is concerned, just let things go as they are. As far as you're concerned," he paused and smiled, "since we now have proof positive that he's highly intelligent, just put him to work. To coin a phrase, two minds are better than one."

"Yes, Sir," Hon said.

(Three) THE ELMS

DANDENONG, VICTORIA, AUSTRALIA 1805 HOURS 1 JULY 1942

Sergeant John Marston Moore helped Mr. Cavendish carry Colonel Goettge's and Major Dillon's luggage to their rooms, and then went to his. Obviously, a sergeant was out of place with visiting brass hats, even under the strange circumstances he was now in.

When I get hungry, he decided, I'll go down the back stairs and see what there is to eat in the refrigerator.

He had just taken his shoes off and settled himself on the bed when there was a knock at the door.

They probably want me to drive somebody somewhere- maybe go get Captain Pickering or Lieutenant Hon-or maybe serve drinks.

It was Major Banning.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Come with me," Banning said. "I want to show you something. Save your questions until I tell you."

"Aye, aye, Sir. Give me a moment to get my shoes on."

He followed Banning down the back stairs to the kitchen, and then to a small room off the kitchen he had not known existed.

It was not much larger than a closet, and it held a small table with a lamp on it and a simple cushioned chair. Banning put his finger over his lips, ordering silence, and then pointed to foot-square ducts in the walls. Moore realized first that the other end of one of the ducts opened into the library, and then he remembered seeing it when he had been browsing among the books. It had been hardly visible among the books. He remembered that there was another duct in the dining room.

Banning touched his ear and pointed toward the duct opening on the library. Moore realized that he could hear, faintly, but clearly, Major Dillon talking to Colonel Goettge about Captain Pickering's estate in San Francisco. Obviously, anything said in the library and dining room could be heard in the small room.

Banning signaled that they should leave the room, and when they had done so, he closed the door after them. He went to a coffee pot, helped himself, and then leaned against a work table under a large rack of pots and pans.

"I think that's where the butler sat," Banning said. "So he could hear when the lord of the manor needed more ice or when it was time to serve dessert."

"Interesting," Moore said.

"When you sit in there and listen, you're probably going to hear all sorts of interesting things."

The notion of eavesdropping on people, especially on Captain Pickering, made Moore uncomfortable.

"Sir?"

"I want you-as a matter-of-fact, Captain Pickering wants you-to sit in there and listen."

"Aye, aye, Sir."

"Put your trench coat away," Banning said, laughing. "This is not high level espionage. You made quite an impression on Pluto-Lieutenant Hon. He told Captain Pickering he thought you have a good analytical mind and that with your knowledge of how the Japanese think and behave, you were probably going to be damned useful. Obviously, the more you know, the more useful you will be. There will be things discussed in there tonight that you should know, and which would not be discussed if you were in there, even serving drinks, which was my original idea. Understand? Or would you rather pass canapes?"