"Yeah, me, too," George said.
"I'll do whatever you tell me to do," Beth said.
"Whatever I tell you?"
"Whatever you tell me, honey."
"Take off the damned towel."
[Four]
WALTER REED ARMY GENERAL HOSPITAL
WASHINGTON, D.C.
1005 HOURS 25 SEPTEMBER 1942
Colonel F. L. Rickabee was in uniform when he knocked on Brigadier General Fleming Pickering's hospital room. He entered without waiting.
"Good morning, General," he said.
Christ, Pickering thought, clothes do make the man! He is far more impressive in his uniform than in those off-the-rack Sears, Roebuck suits he usually wears.
"Good morning, Rickabee."
"Sorry to be late, Sir. I went to the Friday Morning."
"You went to the what?"
"The Friday Morning Intelligence Summary at ONI," Rickabee explained.
ONI was the Office of Naval Intelligence.
"That's why you're in uniform?"
"Yes, Sir. That saves the usual two minutes of Naval humor when I show up in mufti." Pickering chuckled.
"Hear anything interesting?"
"Yes, Sir. The Naval attach‚ in London sent an URGENT radio that he had just heard a reliable report from the English that on the twenty-third, General Rommel was flown to Germany from North Africa, ostensibly for medical treatment, and that yesterday General Halder was relieved and replaced by a man named Zeitler."
"Who's General Halder?" Pickering asked.
`He was Chief of Staff OKH-Oberkommando Heeres, Ground Forces Headquarters-which has de facto responsibility for the Russian Front. There's some thought that Hitler may send Rommel to Russia. Interesting."
"Yes," Pickering agreed.
Proving again, Brigadier General Pickering, Pickering thought, that your total knowledge of the global war can he written inside a matchbook with a grease pencil The only name you recognized was Rommel's.
"And just as we were breaking up there was an OPERATIONAL IMMEDIATE in from CINCPAC that there was confirmed damage to two Japanese destroyers and a cruiser making a supply run to Guadalcanal."
"Sea or air?"
"Sea, Sir."
"I don't think you came all the way over here to report on the-what did you call it?-the Friday Morning."
"No, Sir."
"Well, let's have it."
"Sir, I have certain obligations as your deputy-"
"Cut the crap," Pickering interrupted. "Get to the point." Rickabee's face tightened.
"I consider it my duty, General, to make it clear to you that in my professional judgment, your intended operation to relieve the men at Buka is ill-advised; it has very little chance of success; it will require the expenditure of assets, personnel, and materiel that are needed elsewhere; and it is of questionable legality." After a moment Pickering asked, "Anything else?"
"Yes, Sir. There is a very good chance that when word of it gets out, you will be relieved as Director of the Office of Management Analysis. I would hate to see that happen, Sir, for both selfish and personal reasons."
"Selfish?"
"Yes, Sir. We need somebody who can go to Admiral Leahy directly when we need something." Pickering poured a cup of coffee for himself. He held the pot up as an offer to Rickabee, who shook his head, no. And then he put the cup to his lip.
He lowered it without taking a sip.
"The operation goes," he said. "I appreciate your candor, Rickabee."
"Aye, aye, Sir. I thought that would be The General's reaction."
"We're back to `The General,' are we?" Pickering asked.
Rickabee ignored the remark. He reached into the lower, bellows pocket of his blouse and took out an envelope.
"I had Sessions make this up last night, Sir," he said. "There are copies for Dillon, that's his; and for McCoy, Moore, and Sergeant Hart. They will be on the courier plane from Pensacola arriving at Anacostia about seventeen hundred." Pickering took what Rickabee handed him and read it.
"You'll have to sign the endorsement, General. That's just to show you what it will look like when we're done. I thought about getting Major Dillon a set of ONI Special Agent credentials-McCoy, Moore, and Hart already have them, of course-but I thought that might cause people to ask questions we don't want asked." Pickering's original orders on White House stationery, signed by Admiral Leahy, had been photographed and reduced in size by half, printed, and placed within sheets of cellophane, stapled shut.
THE WHITE HOUSE
Washington, D.C.
3 September 1942
Brigadier General Fleming W. Pickering, USMCR, Headquarters, USMC, will proceed by military and/or civilian rail, road, sea and air transportation (Priority AAAAA-1) to such points as he deems necessary in carrying out the mission assigned to him by the undersigned.
United States Armed Forces commands are directed to provide him with such support as he may request. General Pickering is to be considered the personal representative of the undersigned.