"The Kangaroo FBI?"
"His Majesty's Royal Australian Constabulary," Gregory said. "What are you going to do with her?"
Pluto again elected not to reply.
"I know she's staying in the cottage, for Christ's sake," Gregory said.
"I told you we keep it under surveillance. At Ed Banning's request."
"She's a fine young woman," Pluto said. "Her heinous crime was to get herself impregnated by one of our Marines. Banning didn't know that when he sent word we wanted to talk to her. The Kangaroo FBI, as you so aptly describe them, went overboard."
"They tend to do that," Gregory replied. He didn't speak for a moment or two. "And so she'll become one of yours, I presume?" he asked when he was ready to talk again. "As in Special Detachment 14, rather than The U.S. Marine Corps generally?"
"Right, I think we'll hire Mrs. Farnsworth."
"As soon as Banning gets back from wherever he is?"
Pluto declined to reply.
Gregory chuckled, and then remained silent until they pulled up the drive to Water Lily Cottage and stopped. As Pluto reached for the car door handle, he touched his arm.
"Do you think we could send the ladies shopping or something? I'd really rather have our little chat in private."
"Well, Lieutenant," Colonel Gregory said to Moore as soon as the Studebaker with Barbara Cotter, Joanne Miller, and Daphne Farnsworth in it had nosed out of the driveway, "you seem to have recovered from your recurrence of malaria. And congratulations on your promotion."
"You seem to know a hell of a lot about me, Colonel," Moore said.
"You provided my people with a lot of laughs when you were here the first time... humping Mrs. Feller," Gregory said.
"Son of a bitch!" Moore blurted.
"From the look on your face, Pluto, I don't think you knew that, did you? I guess Banning decided you didn't have the Need to Know," Gregory said.
He chuckled at Moore's flushing face.
"Your secret is-secrets are-safe with me. Believe it or not, I was reluctant to bring that up, but I wanted to make the point quickly that I know a good deal about you-and about what goes on here-because Ed Banning wanted me to know."
"What the hell is this all about?" Pluto asked.
"This is a very delicate situation, gentlemen," Gregory said.
"One of those aberrations where people of our lowly ranks and positions have to make decisions involving our superiors."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Pluto said.
"At his first opportunity, Colonel Armstrong went to General McKinney and told him he had been ordered by the Supreme Commander to stage diversionary air attacks in connection with a clandestine operation being conducted in or around Buka-"
"That must be the Air Corps officer who was in General MacArthur's office?" Pluto interrupted.
"Right," Gregory said, "-under the auspices of Lieutenant Hon. Or Banning, who is Hon's boss. I don't mean to sound cynical, but that sounds like bullshit to me; Ed Banning is a nice guy, but he's only a major. I'd like to know what authority, if any, there is for this operation." Moore looked at Hon for instruction.
Without those orders for authority, Hon thought, what we are is two pissant Lieutenants surrounded by very senior brass who are likely to fuck this whole thing up on general principles. Jesus, I wish Banning or Dillon was here!
"Show him your orders, John," Pluto said.
Moore went into his bedroom, returned with his plastic sealed orders, and handed them to Colonel Gregory.
"Well," Gregory said after reading them and handing them back, "I suppose that operating under the auspices of the Chief of Staff to the President gives you all the authority you could ask for."
"Is that what you came to find out?" Pluto asked.
"Not exactly," Gregory said. "So General McKinney, who is not exactly on General MacArthur's fair-haired-boy list, went to General Willoughby. He did that on the reasonable presumption that as the G-2, Willoughby would know all about this clandestine operation and could tell him what was going on. But it turns out that all Willoughby knows he got from Mrs. Feller. I.e., that there's a clandestine operation he knows nothing about. He was pissed off about that-understandably, I think. But what really upset him was that MacArthur was in on the secret. Obviously, since MacArthur laid this air-raid diversion mission on McKinney."
"We didn't ask for that," Pluto said. "That was MacArthur's idea."
"That's the problem," Gregory said. "By definition, any tactical or strategic mission invented by MacArthur is brilliant. And not subject to cancellation."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Pluto said.
"Buka is not within the boundaries of South West Pacific Ocean Area," Gregory said. "It belongs to CINCPAC. MacArthur cannot order an operation in CINCPAC's area. If he does, the shit will hit the fan all the way back to Washington. The Navy is just as sensitive about its territory-about infringements thereon-as MacArthur himself."
"So there will be no diversionary air attack?" Pluto asked.
"No problem. We didn't think it was feasible in the first place."
"You miss the point, Pluto," Gregory said. "There will be diversionary air activity; MacArthur has ordered it. It's entirely possible, I think, that he hopes it will cause the shit to hit the fan. He knows damned well where his boundaries are."
"I'm confused again," Pluto said.
"General Willoughby has a number of other virtues, I'm sure, but the one I admire most is his determination to keep his boss out of trouble. While simultaneously keeping his own ass out of trouble with MacArthur, of course. He and McKinney have come up with a possible solution. Willoughby sent me to present it to you."
"Why didn't Willoughby just call me in?" Pluto thought aloud.
"Since MacArthur never told Willoughby about his order to McKinney, he doesn't officially know about it."
"What do they want from us?" Moore asked.
"They want Hon to go back to Colonel Armstrong and request aerial reconnaissance of your operations area in other words, of Buka. Because the only aircraft with the range to do that are bombers, B-17s, it can be described to General MacArthur as a diversionary raid. At the same time it can be described as reconnaissance activity to CINCPAC. They don't object to that. Actually, they're glad to have it. McKinney can offer daylight reconnaissance for four days."
"Why don't we just tell MacArthur that we d rather not have any aircraft involved in this, period?" Moore asked.
"I tried that," Pluto said. "General MacArthur has decided we need a diversionary attack."
"When is this thing going to happen?" Gregory said. "And don't tell me I don't have the Need to Know." Hon pointed to the briefcase.
"By now the R4D should be on its way to Port Moresby. Townsville sent me a copy of the message just before you called me.