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

«It's not funny, Dick,» Donovan had said.

«I know. What it is, is Franklin Rooseveltian,» Fowler had said. «And only God can change that.»

And now Roosevelt's consciously setting up the same kind of competition between Donovan and me.

Pickering looked at his watch, then at the telephone again.

What I am about to do is absolutely childish.

But on the other hand, one does not have this sort of splendid opportunity every day.

He picked up the telephone, dialed O for operator, asked for long distance, and when the long-distance operator came on the line, gave her a number in San Francisco.

«Is this call essential, sir?» the operator asked.

«Operator, the entire outcome of the war depends on this call getting through.»

«You don't have to be sarcastic, sir.»

The number in San Francisco rang four times before an operator came on. She sounded as if she might have been asleep at her post.

«Pacific and Far East Shipping.»

«This is Fleming Pickering,» he announced.

«Good morning, Commodore,» the operator said, now fully awake.

«I'd like to leave a message for my wife when she comes to work this morning,» he said.

«Of course, Commodore.»

«You have a pencil?»

«Yes, sir.»

«The message is, 'Guess where I was at eight oh five this morning when the President of the United States called. Love, Flem.' Got that?»

«Yes, sir. Commodore, you don't want to tell her where?»

«She'll know, thank you just the same,» Pickering said, and hung up.

As he did that, he noticed, a little surprised and confused, that the green light was illuminated, indicating an incoming call from the hotel switchboard. He shrugged, flipped the switch, and said, «Hello?»

«I hope I didn't wake you,» Senator Richardson K. Fowler said, his tone suggesting he didn't mean that at all.

«You mean you've been waiting for me to answer?»

«Only for the last twenty or thirty minutes,» Fowler said.

«Actually I was on the phone, having a little chat with the President,» Pickering said.

Fowler groaned.

«And how may I help you, Senator?»

«No good deed goes unpunished,» Fowler said. «I was about to ask you to breakfast.»

«Give me five minutes, Dick,» Pickering said.

«Anything special?»

«Something simple. How about a breakfast steak, and a couple of eggs, sunny-side up?»

«Five minutes, Flem,» Fowler said, and hung up.

Pickering, tieless and in his shirtsleeves, arrived at Fowler's down-the-corridor door just as the floor waiter was rolling in a food cart.

«That wasn't five minutes, Flem,» Fowler greeted him. «I have a full day ahead of me.»

«More than you know,» Pickering said, as he followed Fowler into his dining room. The table was set for three.

«Good morning, Commodore,» Fred said.

«Call me General today, Fred,» Pickering said, touching his shoulder. «I have been up most of the night thinking General-type thoughts.»

«I need some of that coffee,» Fowler said, snatching a silver coffeepot from the floor waiter's cart. He sat down at the table and poured himself a cup. Then he remembered Pickering's recent words.

» 'More than I know'? What's that supposed to mean?»

«Put a little something in your stomach,» Pickering said. «It'll put you in a better mood.»

«Just put the plates on the table please,» Fowler said to the floor waiter, «and then, thank you, that'll be all. I have a terrible suspicion that the breakfast-table conversation will concern topics that nice people shouldn't have to hear.»

Pickering waited until the waiter transferred the plates, uncovered them, and left. Fred saw him through the door, locked it, and then sat down at the table with Pickering and Fowler.

«I thought you would be beside yourself with curiosity about my conversation,» he began.

«Your conversation with who?»

«Take a wild guess. He smiles a lot—lots of teeth—and smokes his cigarettes in a long ivory holder.»

Fowler shook his head.

«And what did our beloved leader have to say?» Fowler asked, and then, before Pickering could begin to answer, added: «Flem, who called who?»

«'He called me,» Pickering said. «On my unlisted line.»

«He

is

the President. What did he have to say?»

«Because he and Colonel Donovan are old friends, he told me, he knows better than most people how obdurate… I love that word; I thought I knew what it meant, but when we hung up, to be sure, I looked it up in the dictionary—«

«Hardened in wrongdoing,» Fowler said.

«Or wickedness,» Pickering said. «According to Mr. Webster, 'wrongdoing

or wickedness

.' 1 told you I looked it up.»

»

And

, Flem?» Fowler said, smiling.

«And because he knows how

obdurate

the good Colonel can be, his door is always open to me.»

«That's nice,» Fowler said. «You remember our conversation last night about J. Edgar Hoover?»

«How could I forget?» Pickering said.

«Interesting,» Fowler said, and stared at his breakfast steak with disdain. «I don't know why I ordered this. If I eat this, I'll fall asleep before lunch.»

«I will, of course, take the President at his word, and go knocking at his door. Today, if I have to. Unless you can fix it so that I won't have to.»

«What are you talking about?»

«You remember what Donovan said last night? 'I'd like to have the Office of Management Analysis. Lock, stock, and barrel'?

«And I remember that you told him no.»

«And I remember he took my 'no' too easily, as if he expected that reaction and was going to ignore it.»

«Yeah,» Fowler said, remembering. «Frank Knox wouldn't at all like losing Management Analysis,» he added. «He is very fond of his private, personal OSS.»

«Which performs a number of valuable functions, and which should not be swallowed up by the OSS.»

«1 agree,» Fowler said.

«I suspect that Donovan has tried to get it before, failed, and sees a new opportunity. He can tell the President I want it. Or, more likely, that he naturally presumed I would want to bring it into the OSS with me. Since the President has told me I can have anybody I want, he will see nothing wrong with this, and will tell Admiral Leahy to take care of it. Once it's in the OSS, he takes it away from me.»

«You don't trust Donovan, do you?»

«He's a lawyer, Dick, of course I don't trust him.»

«So am I a lawyer,» Fowler said, not amused.

«Yeah, but Donovan is a

Democratic

lawyer.»

«That's a little better,» Fowler said.

Fred chuckled.

«So what do you propose to do? Or propose that I do for you?» Fowler asked.

«Get to Frank Knox, immediately, this morning, and tell him I'll make a deal with him. If he's willing to go along, I'll go to the President with him and tell him I think Management Analysis should remain under Knox. If we both go to the President and tell him no, I think we can prevail over Bill Donovan, done deal or not.»

«You understand how quickly Roosevelt's open door is going to slam in your face if you go over Donovan's head your first day on the job?»

«I couldn't do it alone, and I don't think Frank Knox could,» Pickering said. «We'll have to do it together. I'll worry about the door slamming in my face later.»

«You said 'deal,' « Fowler said. «What kind of a deal? Frank Knox is not well-known for making deals. What do you want from Knox?»

«I want Fritz Rickabee promoted to brigadier general,» Pickering said. «And Ed Banning promoted to lieutenant colonel. Incidentally, I've decided I need Banning more than Rickabee does.»