Griffin W.E.B. - The Corps 09 - Under Fire

"I stole it," McCoy said, simply.

"And what's going to happen to you when it turns up missing? My God, Ken, you just can't make off with Top Secret documents!"

"You can if the document doesn't exist. That one doesn't. There's no longer a record of it."

"Let me get this straight," Pickering said. "You prepared this evaluation?"

"Yes, sir."

"On your own, or officially?"

"The Korean part officially. The Chinese part on my own."

"And you submitted it to this Captain Wilkerson?"

"And he sent it up to Willoughby. And the next day Wilkerson called me in and told me (a) I was relieved; (b) the evaluation didn't exist; (c) I should start packing."

"Why?"

"I can only guess," McCoy said.

"Guess."

"Remember when there was no possibility of guerrillas in the Philippines?" McCoy asked.

It had been the official position of the Supreme Com-mander, Southwest Pacific Ocean Areas-MacArthur- that it was absolutely impossible for any American guerrillas to function in the Japanese-occupied Philippine Islands.

"Before you went ashore on Mindanao and established contact with General Fertig, you mean?"

They were both smiling.

Goddamn it, why are we smiling? If that's what's going on, it isn't funny.

"I think it's entirely possible that Willoughby has just as-sured El Supremo that there is absolutely no risk of trouble in Korea," McCoy said. "And doesn't want his opinion challenged by a captain. I can't think of any other reason...."

"But what if you're right?"

"The evaluation doesn't exist. The worst scenario for him is to say he was completely surprised by what hap-pened, and strongly hint that he was let down by incompe-tent junior intelligence officers."

"But your evaluation..."

"Doesn't exist," McCoy said.

Pickering looked at his watch.

"Pick's liable to walk in any minute," he said. "We can't let him know about this."

"Why not?" McCoy asked.

"You'll show it to Pick and not to Ernie?" Pickering challenged.

McCoy went to Pickering, took the report, and handed it to his wife.

She had just begun to read it when the bells tinkled.

"You go," Ernie ordered. "I'm reading this."

Pick Pickering came into the room a moment later.

He and McCoy embraced.

"You may now call me `Speedy' Pickering," Pick said. "It's official."

Pickering handed him the sheet of notebook paper on which Colonel Stanley had written Colonel Huff's private telephone number.

"Call Colonel Huff, identify yourself as Captain Picker-ing, calling for me-for General Pickering-and say that I would be honored if General and Mrs. MacArthur would join me for cocktails and dinner at the Imperial-"

"Boss, El Supremo never goes to the Imperial," McCoy interrupted. "Or anywhere else, either, really."

"So I read in Time," Pickering said. "Make the call, Pick."

"What the hell is going on?" Pick asked.

"Make the call, and then we'll bring you up to speed," Pickering said. "But for a quick answer, it seems like old times."

[TWO]

NO. 7 SAKU-TUN

DENENCHOFU, TOKYO, JATAN

1805 1 JUNE 1950

The Japanese housekeeper came into the room and said something in Japanese to Ernie Sage McCoy.

"Colonel Huff for you, Captain Pickering," Ernie trans-lated. "There's an extension by Ken's chair."

"Huff is calling to say that Supreme Commander and Mrs. MacArthur would much prefer that you come to the Embassy," Ken McCoy said.

"Probably," Fleming Pickering said, with a smile. He followed Pick to the telephone on the table beside Ken Mc-Coy's armchair.

Pick picked up the telephone.

"Captain Pickering," he said.

He held the phone away from his ear so that his father could overhear the conversation.

"This is Colonel Huff, Captain."

"How are you, Colonel?"

"Captain, I relayed General Pickering's invitation to the Supreme Commander. He asked me to get word to General Pickering that he and Mrs. MacArthur would much prefer that the general come to the Supreme Commander's quar-ters for cocktails and dinner. Is that going to pose a prob-lem for the General?"

"I'll have to ask him, Colonel. Would you please hold?"

It was not the reply Colonel Huff had expected. This was clear in his voice as he said, "Of course."

Pick covered the microphone with his hand, then whis-pered, "How long are we going to make him wait?"

"Sixty seconds," Fleming Pickering said, with a smile. "Sixty seconds is a very long time when you're hanging on a phone."

Pick put the telephone on his shoulder, holding it in place with his chin, and then pushed the button on his aviator's chronometer that caused the sweep second hand to start moving.

Sixty seconds seemed like a long time. Ernie Sage Mc-Coy shook her head and smiled at her husband.

Finally Pick took the telephone from his shoulder.

"That will be fine, Colonel. What time would General MacArthur like my father to be there?"

"The Supreme Commander's limousine will be at the Hotel Imperial at 1900. Would that be convenient?"

Fleming Pickering touched Pick's arm and shook his head, "no."

"Dad's not at the Imperial, Colonel."

"Oh?"

It was obviously a request for information. Pickering shook his head "no" again.

"And he has a car," Pick said. "I'm sure he would prefer to have it with him. I don't know what his schedule is after dinner, but I'm sure there will be something."

"The Embassy at 1930, then," Huff said. There was a tone of annoyance, slight but unmistakable, in his voice. "Would that be convenient?"

"If something comes up, Colonel, I'll call. But I feel sure Dad can meet that schedule."

"Thank you very much, Captain."

"Not at all, Colonel."

Pick hung the phone up.

"How'd I do?"

"You annoyed Huff. There will be a reward in heaven," Pickering said.

Ernie Sage McCoy, smiling, shook her head again.

The maid reappeared almost immediately, and delivered another message in Japanese.

"Another call for Captain Pickering," Ernie translated.

"I'll bet I know who that is, Ken," Fleming Pickering said, and when he had McCoy's attention, went on in a credible mockery of General Charles Willoughby's pro-nounced German accent: " `Ven der Supreme Commander says he vill send hiss limousine, Cheneral Pickering vill ride in der limousine, or I vill haf him shot!'"

McCoy chuckled.

Pick picked up the telephone.

"Captain Pickering," he said, then: "Oh, hello, Uncle Charley. What's up?"

There was a pause.

"Oh, hell, I thought you forgot about that. And there's no way I can get out of it?"

Another pause.

"Okay. I'll be right there. But see how short you can make it, okay? I want to have dinner with the guy who married my childhood sweetheart."

He chuckled and hung up.

"Charley Ansley says `Hi, Ernie,'" he said.

"And?" Ernie said.

"There's going to be a press conference, and the entire fu-ture of Trans-Global Airways depends on my being there."

"Why don't you take Ken and Ernie with you," Fleming Pickering said. "And then out to dinner."

He could tell from McCoy's face that he didn't want to go. And from Ernie's that she did.

"Honey?" she asked.

"Sure, why not?" McCoy said.

[THREE]

THE RESIDENCE OF THE SUPREME COMMANDER, ALLIED POWERS

TOKYO, JAPAN

1930 1 JUNE 1950

The two impeccably turned-out Army military policemen at the gate to what had been the U.S. Embassy compound and was now the residence of the Supreme Commander, Allied Powers, who had been at Parade Rest-standing stiffly erect, with the hands folded on the small of the back-came, very precisely and very slowly, to attention and very slowly raised their hands in salute as the 1941 Cadillac limousine approached the gate.

They held the salute until the gate opened and the lim-ousine passed through, before very slowly bringing their rigid hands down from the forward lip of their chromed steel helmets and returning to Parade Rest.