"Apparently," Banning replied sarcastically, "you decided Carlson was not a communist."
McCoy ignored him.
"Sessions has his bags packed. He's got that MAGIC clearance that I'm not supposed to know about. You wanted to know why Moore was sent here still using a cane: Moore will fill in for you doing whatever this MAGIC crap is. You want to get relieved, stay on your high horse and Sessions will be on his way here in seventy-two hours." Banning picked up his beer mug, took a long pull at it, and then burped.
"Well, Lieutenant McCoy, I am relieved to learn that Jake Dillon's not really in charge."
"Don't underestimate Major Dillon, Major Banning," McCoy said.
"I don't want to count mess kits," Banning said.
"That's up to you," McCoy said. "I hope both you and Feldt are around to help while we do this."
"He's not going to like it," Banning said.
"The idea itself, or the challenge to his authority?"
"Either. Both."
"Then you better talk to him." Banning nodded.
"What do you want from me, McCoy?"
"I want you to punch holes in the plan and then I want solutions to the problems you find." Banning nodded.
"Ellen Feller's liable to pose problems," Banning said. "The way Dillon ran her off was stupid. He didn't have to tell her to butt out; he didn't have to get her ego involved. She'll be on the back channel to Pickering by morning. If she hasn't already radioed to tell him to tell us to let her in on this."
"He won't," McCoy said. "He doesn't want her to get splattered if the shit hits the fan. "
"Did you know that your sainted General Pickering was fucking her?"
"No," McCoy admitted, visibly surprised. "You're sure'?" Banning nodded.
"And Lieutenant Moore has enjoyed the privilege of her bed.
"No kidding?"
"Everybody, apparently, but you and me," Banning said, and smiled.
"Everybody but you and Dillon," McCoy said. "But that was as of an hour ago."
"You, too?" McCoy didn't respond to the question.
"Dillon's quite a swordsman," he said admiringly. "Hart told me he had Veronica Wood in the sack in Washington. He saw them."
"Veronica Wood?" Banning said. "Maybe there is more to Dillon than meets the eye." Their eyes met for a moment, long enough for them both to understand that they'd resolved the problem between them.
"Speaking of women," McCoy said, "do you happen to know if our Lieutenant Howard had a girlfriend over here""
"Yeah, as a matter of fact, he did. Does. Why?"
"Well, he's like me. No family. His home address is care of USMC, Washington, D.C. We need some really personal details about this girlfriend."
"What for?"
"Radio code, before we go in. Where is this girl? Who is she?"
"She's a Navy nurse, assigned to the 4th General Hospital in Melbourne."
"I want to talk to her," McCoy said. "Right away."
"She knows where he is, incidentally. And so does Steve Koffler's girl. She's in the RAN. I can have both of them here by tomorrow afternoon.
I'll have to find a phone."
"It'll wait until after I eat," McCoy said. "You're sure you don't want some of this?"
"If you insist, Ken," Banning said, reaching for a french fry.
"I'm glad we're back to `Ken,"' McCoy said. "Let's keep it that way."
Banning met his eyes and nodded.
[Four]
WATER LILY COTTAGE
MANCHESTER AVENUE
BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA
1530 HOURS 30 SEPTEMBER 1942
Lieutenant John Marston Moore was lying on the couch with his legs elevated on two pillows.
"It says here," he said, lowering The Brisbane Dispatch and reaching for a bottle of beer on the coffee table, "that they made 488 cargo ships last year."
"Who's `they'?" Lieutenant K. R. McCoy asked. He was sitting at a table with Lieutenant Hon Song Do, having just taught General MacArthur's favorite bridge partner the favorite game of Marine enlisted men, Acey-Deucy.
"Us, for Christ's sake!" Moore said.
"I wonder how many they sank?" McCoy asked innocently.
"They' meaning the Japs and the Germans."
"You mean despite the Air Raid Warning lady's best efforts?" Moore asked.