Griffin W.E.B. - The Corps 08 - In Dangers Path

Though he was fully aware that the ambulance and weapons carrier he had seen en route to the house were almost certainly not the ones McCoy and Zimmerman had driven to Yümen, in the absence of any other alternative, he was perfectly willing to grasp at a straw. The moment General Chow and his officers left the house—or sooner, if he could get General Sun alone for a moment—he was going to tell him he may have seen McCoy's trucks, and wanted to go looking for him.

General Chow failed to leave General Sun's side, and showed no interest in dinner. He did show every sign of too much drink, which meant the cocktail hour could go on forever, with dinner to follow.

«Sir, may I speak to you a moment?» a voice said in Pickering's ear.

«What's on your mind, Sampson?» Pickering asked, not entirely cordially.

«Not in here, sir.»

What the hell does he want?

Sampson gestured toward the door to the foyer of the house. Pickering marched out of the room into the foyer.

«Sir, I was hoping that General Chow would leave—«

«What is it, Sampson?»

«Sir, on the way here from the airport, I believe I saw Captain McCoy's vehicles.»

«Is that so?»

«Yes, sir. I'm sure it was the ambulance he drove to the OSS house in Chungking. The paint didn't quite obliterate the white of the red cross markings—«

«There's probably fifty ambulances with bad paint jobs in Yümen,» Pickering said.

«The door of the ambulance Captain McCoy drove to the OSS house had a longitudinal scar on it, sir. So did the ambulance I saw before. And both vehicles here were towing five-hundred-gallon water trailers. Sir, with respect, I think having a look makes sense.»

«So do I,» Pickering said. «Go back in there and as discreetly as possible have Colonel Banning come out here.»

Banning came into the foyer a moment later, and on his heels was Major Kee Lew See, with a curious, concerned look on his face.

«You wanted to see me, sir?» Banning said.

«Sampson and I both think we know where McCoy is. Or at least was,» Pickering said.

«Where?»

«We saw the ambulance and the weapons carrier in the parking lot of a building—«

«How do you know it was McCoy's ambulance and weapons carrier?» Banning interrupted dubiously.

«I don't, obviously,» Pickering said sharply. «But in the absence of a better idea where McCoy might be, I think I want to have a look.»

Major Kee politely but insistently asked a question.

«Major Kee,» Sampson translated, «would like to know if there is any kind of problem, and if so, how he might be able to resolve it.»

«Tell him we need a vehicle for about thirty minutes,» Pickering ordered.

Sampson translated, and then translated Kee's reply: «Major Kee says that he hopes you will not give General Chow any reason to believe that you are not pleased with the festivities.»

«Tell him that I am delighted with the festivities.»

Sampson translated again and a moment later, translated Kee's reply: «Major Kee believes that General Chow will misunderstand if the General does not immediately return to the festivities.»

«Banning, you and Major Kee go back in there and tell General Sun that I will return in about an hour, and look forward to resuming my role in the festivities.»

This time Major Kee did not wait to hear Sampson's translations. He uttered a string of rapid-fire Chinese.

Sampson smiled. «How much English do you speak, sir?» he asked.

«I understand a good bit,» Kee said in heavily accented but perfectly understandable English. «Be so good, Captain, as to translate my comment to General.»

«Yes, sir,» Sampson said. «General, Major Kee said—«

«That it would be better,» Banning interrupted him, «if I went back in there and made your apologies. He feels he would be more use going with you when you look for Captain McCoy.»

«Thank you, Major Kee,» Pickering said. «Can you get us a car?»

«We will take the Packard Clipper. General,» Major Kee said. «That has been set aside for General Sun's use.»

«Make my apologies, please, Colonel,» Pickering ordered.

«Aye, aye, sir.»

note 86

The Inn of the Fattened Goose

Yümen, China

2005 13 April 1943

Captain Kenneth R. McCoy, USMCR, and Gunnery Sergeant Ernest W. Zimmerman—both of them out of uniform in a manner not even dreamed of by the United States Marine Corps—sat at a small table near the center of the dark and smoke-filled room. More than a dozen «other» Chinese officers were in the room, and as many well-dressed civilians, but McCoy and Zimmerman were the only Caucasians.

On McCoy's table were plates; bowls of cooked and raw onions and sweet peppers; glasses; and two liter bottles of beer. A roaring fire, built on bricks, was set in the center of the floor. It was both a source of heat and a stove. Cantilevered from a pole rising from the floor to the ceiling was a fire-blackened cast-iron dome that could be swung over the fire. A very large Chinese woman in a black gown sliced a thin piece of beef six inches by four from a quarter carcass of beef, hung from the same pole, threw a glance at McCoy's table, held up the beef, and asked if that would be enough.

«Two, no, three slices like that for me,» McCoy called to her in Cantonese. «And for my fat friend, five.»

The large Chinese woman smiled and pushed the fire-blackened dome over the fire. Then she picked up her knife and sliced more thin oblongs of beef from the carcass.

«That thing is like an upside-down wok,» McCoy said.

«It's made out of cast iron,» Zimmerman protested. «They hammer woks out of sheet steel.»

«Well, pardon my ignorance,» McCoy said.

«That's the way the Mongolians do their beef,» Ernie said. «It ain't Chinese.»

«She's going to melt the wok if she leaves it in that fire much longer,» McCoy said.

«I told you, it ain't a wok,» Zimmerman said.

«Drink your beer, Ernie,» McCoy said.

«Shit, I don't like that,» Zimmerman said softly.

McCoy followed Zimmerman's eyes.

A very large Chinese officer was standing just inside the door. His hand rested on the molded leather holster hanging from his Sam Browne belt.

«He looks like he was looking for something interesting, and just found us,» Zimmerman said.

«I don't like the way he's dressed,» McCoy said softly. «Too well.»

«Are we going to get fucked up this late?» Zimmerman said.

«Just play it nice and easy, Ernie,» McCoy said, and directed his attention to the large Chinese woman.

She swung the inverted cast-iron dome off the fire. Then, moving quickly, she dipped four of the thin slices of beef into a bowl and laid them on the dome. There was a sizzle, a delicious smell, and a cloud of smoke. Using a fork, she turned the slices over, let them cook momentarily, and then placed them on two plates. She handed the plates to a boy who started toward McCoy's table, and then she pushed the cast-iron dome back over the fire.

«It's us he's after. Here he comes,» Zimmerman said very softly.

«Easy does it, Ernie,» McCoy said softly.

«Sir, you are American?» Major Kee Lew See asked in English.

«What did you say?» McCoy replied nastily in Cantonese. «What do you want?»

«I asked if you are American,» Major Kee asked in Cantonese.

«And who are you to ask me what I am?» McCoy said.

«I am Major Kee Lew See, aide-de-camp to General Sun. Your papers, please, Major.»

The Chinese boy reached the table and laid the plates of beef on it.

«You don't mind if I have my supper first, do you, Major?» McCoy said, and shifted in his seat.

«Your papers, please, Major,» Kee repeated.