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

that.

He

thinks he's a pal of yours.»

«Anything else?»

«Gasoline ration coupons, two hundred gallons' worth.»

«My car's up on blocks at Ernie's parents' place in New Jersey.»

«Take it off the blocks. Or aren't you planning to spend your leave with her?»

«What I meant was that it probably doesn't have plates on it.»

«If I were Ernie, I would have paid for plates. That would get her gasoline coupons for her own car.»

«And I'm sure my driver's license has expired.»

«It's good for the duration plus six months,» Sessions said. «Is there some reason you don't want to drive your car?»

«No, of course not,» McCoy said. «You know, aside from my uniforms, things like that, that car is the only thing I own. I bought it when I came back from China. It's a 1939 LaSalle convertible. Silver.»

«Really?

«I paid five hundred twenty-five dollars for it,» McCoy said. «It was the first decent car I ever owned, and I didn't want to sell it when I went overseas, and Ernie said I could leave it at the farm, so I did.»

«So now you have a car. Enjoy it.»

«Yeah,» McCoy said thoughtfully. «I'll ask Ernie how much trouble it would be to get it off the blocks.»

Sessions tossed him a small leather folder.

«New credentials. That was the Colonel's idea. He said the photograph on your old ones made you look like a high school cheerleader.»

McCoy opened the folder. It contained a badge and a card sealed in plastic identifying McCoy, Kenneth R., as a Special Agent of the Office of Naval Intelligence.

«I'll have to have the old one back,» Sessions said.

«I don't have them.»

«Ken, they're not supposed to leave your person,» Sessions said.

«I didn't think I'd need them in the Philippines, so I left them in the safe in Water Lily Cottage in Brisbane. And forgot about them.»

«The Colonel will be thrilled to hear that,» Sessions said.

«I don't think it makes any difference,» McCoy said. «Maybe you better keep these.»

«Meaning what?»

«After he showed me that Special Channel from the President, the first thing General Pickering said was 'welcome to the OSS, Captain McCoy.' I don't think I belong to Colonel Rickabee anymore.»

«Did the General say anything about taking Management Analysis into the OSS lock, stock, and barrel?»

«No,» McCoy said. «I don't think that's going to happen, though. I think he would have said something.»

«Rickabee's worried about that,» Sessions said. «The guy who runs the OSS has been trying to get us all along. Or shut us down.»

«I don't think that will happen.»

«I hope you're right, Ken. God knows, I don't…«

»… want to go in the OSS?» McCoy finished. «Well, maybe

you'll

get lucky.»

«What have you got against the OSS?» Sessions said.

«The only nice thing I can think of about being in the OSS is that probably, now, I won't get parachuted into the Gobi Desert… which is what you bastards had in mind for me.»

«The last scuttlebutt I heard about that was that the Army Air Corps got to Admiral Leahy, and he told the Navy, which means Management Analysis, to butt out. The Air Corps's going to set up a weather station in Russia.»

«Good luck to them!» McCoy said.

«Pickering didn't tell you what you'll be doing?»

«I don't think he knows. I don't think he knows what

he'll

be doing.»

Sessions grunted but said nothing. He went back into the briefcase and came out with a stuffed business-size envelope.

«And this little jewel contains your partial pay. One thousand bucks.»

«I drew a partial in Pearl Harbor,» McCoy said. «But as you pointed out, I will be spending some time with Ernie, which means I'm going to need this. Thank you.»

«That's about it,» Sessions said. «I think you better keep those credentials.»

«Whatever you say.»

«How do you feel about lying to me?»

«Not good. About what?»

«You could tell me you destroyed your credentials before going into the Philippines. Or while you were there. And then I'll send a Special Channel to Pluto, and tell him to go in the safe, find your credentials, and burn them. It would keep you out of hot water with the Colonel.»

«What's he going to do? Send me to the OSS?»

Sessions chuckled, then detected an odd tone in the way McCoy was looking at him.

«What, Ken?»

«You've been in Washington too long, Ed. You're learning to lie like the rest of the bastards around here.»

«I was just trying to be helpful,» Sessions said.

«Yeah, I know you were,» McCoy said. He held up his nearly empty glass. «You got any more of this stuff?»

«Absolutely,» Sessions said, and went to fix fresh drinks.

Chapter Six

note 24

Muku-Muku

Oahu, Territory of Hawaii

1345 17 February 1943

When Second Lieutenant George F. Hart, USMCR, saw Brigadier General Fleming Pickering, USMCR, walk onto the patio at Muku-Muku wearing a terry-cloth bathrobe, he quickly slid out of the inner tube he had been floating in, swam to the side of the pool, and hoisted himself out. He almost lost his borrowed, too-large swimming trunks in the process.

«You manage to get some sleep, sir?» he asked, as he pulled the trunks up.

«Not a goddamn wink, thank you just the same,» Pickering said. «Every time I closed my eyes, there was Wild Bill Donovan leering at me from the fires of hell.»

Hart chuckled. «Now what, sir?»

«You get on the horn, George, call the flag secretary at CINCPAC and ask if Admiral Nimitz can give me ten or fifteen minutes to make my manners. And then we'll have some lunch. Or did you eat?»

«I thought I'd wait for you, sir.»

«Did you check on our flight?»

«Yes, sir, it's laid on for 1945.»

«You better tell the flag secretary that time,» Pickering said.

«Aye, aye, sir.»

Pickering nodded, slipped out of the terry-cloth robe, and took a running dive into the pool. He swam the length of the large pool in a smooth breaststroke, turned, swam back, and repeated the process. He hauled himself out of the pool, put the terry-cloth robe back on, and looked at Hart, who pointed at the telephone.

«I'm waiting for it to…« Hart began. The telephone rang. Hart picked it up. «General Pickering's quarters, Lieutenant Hart speaking, sir.» He listened a moment. «I'm sure the General will find that convenient, sir. Thank you very much.» He replaced the telephone in its cradle.

«What time will he see me, George?»

» 'If General Pickering does not find this inconvenient, CINCPAC and Admiral Wagam will call on him at 1600,' « Hart quoted.

«You made it clear, I hope, George, that I wanted to go into Pearl Harbor?»

«Yes, sir. The flag secretary told me he would speak with Admiral Nimitz and see what could be arranged. And call me back. He just did.»

«I wonder what they want?»

«They probably want an excuse to get out of CINCPAC for an hour or so,» Hart said.

Pickering walked to the wall beside the glass doors leading into the house and pushed a button mounted on it.

Denny Williamson appeared almost immediately. «Ready for a little lunch, Captain?» he asked.

«Denny, I done told you two times already,» Hart said, smiling. «I ain't gonna tell you no more. It's

General

Pickering.»

«Maybe to you, young man,» the elderly black man said. «Not to me.»

«Admirals Nimitz and Wagam will be here at four, Denny,» Pickering said. «I don't know how long they'll stay, but be prepared for a light supper. Hart and I have to be at Pearl Harbor by quarter to seven.»