Having finished briefing Donovan, Rossiter rose to watch as the latest bunch of men arrived.
Had he had the time, he would have spent longer watching the two groups, new arrivals and old arrivals, eye each other with quiet suspicion.
He snorted.
‘Old arrivals, my goddamned ass. Been here less than twenty four!’
None the less, the old understood that the new were different.
The new were not British, American… none of the Allied nations.
Even though their uniforms were now nondescript, the men bore all the hallmarks and arrogance of soldiers from another time.
SS.
Shandruk and his men had arrived.
He dragged himself away and quickly sought a line to the NATO headquarters.
“Hello? This is Brigadier General Rossiter. I need to see General Patton. Yes, it is urgent.”
Rossiter controlled himself as best he could but his anger vented immediately.
“Well, I’m sure General Patton is a very busy man, but if I don’t get to see him this evening, you’re likely to be sat in a pile of rubble very shortly, Colonel. Now, I’m coming to see the commander and you better make sure his diary is cleared for me or I’ll be finding you a nice assignment with a rifle company. Do I make myself clear, Colonel?”
The phone descended on the cradle with sufficient force that he felt the need to examine the set up for damage.
‘Damnit, Sam… don’t beat up on the hired help!’
He reproached himself immediately, and vowed to apologise to the man in person.
It wasn’t his way, but a simple sign that the pressure was building… and he was still tired, so very tired.
He checked his watch.
‘Damn… I’m late… one more call.’
This one was more complicated to route and it was some time before he heard a familiar voice in his ear.
“Odekirk.”
“Ode! It’s Sam here.”
“Sam, be all that’s wonderful. Thought you headed back to the war, Sir.”
“I did. That’s where I am right now. I need to speak to the man pronto. He there?”
“Yeah, but over the other side. I can put you though if you like?”
“Swell, but first I need to know something. Pardon me if I don’t come straight out with it, but can you tell me, yes or no… did you finish up the lumberyard?”
“The lumberyard?”
“Yeah. Is it ready to use?”
“Shit… I mean… yeah. Yes it is.”
“Keep that between you, me, and the boss for now, Ode. Now, can you get me through to the man?”
“I’m on it. See you soon I hope, Sam.”
“Count on it, Ode.”
Odekirk switched the phone through to another extension way over the other wide of the Glendale Factory.
Rossiter stifled a grin at the opening exchange between the two men.
“Ode, if this is about those fucking seats again I’ll tie you out under the Arizona sun and guide hungry ants to your sweatier parts.”
“Gimme a break, will yer? I’ve got Sam Rossiter on the phone for you… all the way from Europe.”
“What’s he want?”
“He swore me to secrecy, but he wanted to know if the lumberyard was finished. I told him yes.”
“The hell he did? Ok, put him through, Ode.”
The phone went silent before bursting into life.
“To what do I owe this pleasure, Sam?”
“Business, Howard… real business. Ode tells me the lumber yard is up and running.”
It actually wasn’t, but he wasn’t about to say that.
“All but the last few nuts and bolts, Sam. Were you so impressed with it that you want another sit in the seat?”
“No, Howard. Your country needs to borrow it yesterday.”
“What? You mean after all the shit I’ve taken, now… of all times… now?… you fucking want it now?”
“Calm down, old timer. It’s not a war department thing, it’s a ‘me’ thing. I’m keeping this as tight as I possibly can. The big question is… is she ready or not… and I need to know right now, Howard?”
He swivelled in his chair and looked out through the glazed side of his office, examining as many inches of the ‘lumberyard’ as he could take in.
“Yeah… she’s ready. Whatcha got in mind, Sam?”
Rossiter started his play.
“Howard, one of my officers presented himself at your main reception at oh-eight-hundred hours, with orders to remain there until summoned. Can you get him brought to your office immediately please?”
“Sure thing, Sam. A moment.”
The receiver was muffled whilst the order was issued.
“I’m back and he’s on his way.”
“Remind me of the numbers of the lumberyard again will you?”
The details flowed easily, all indelibly carved into the memory of the man who had driven the project from start to finish.
A Marine Colonel was shown into the room and immediately produced an envelope marked for the man on the phone.
“Your man’s just handed me an envelope. I take it you want me to read it now?”
“On the express understanding it goes back into his possession and you keep the contents strictly between you and your immediate team, Howard.”
“You got it.”
“And that means Ode better keep his mouth shut, unlike a moment ago.”
“What can I say, Sam… he works for me.”
Sam heard the rip of paper and a tuneless whistle as the contents were avidly consumed.
The whistling stopped abruptly.
“My God, Sam… are you fucking serious? I mean… really serious?”
Clearly, Brigadier General Rossiter was extremely serious.
“Forty-eight hours tops, Sam. I can have her moving in forty-eight hours tops. Where we going?”
“You’re in?”
“Too right I’m in!”
“Landmark. It’s a code word. Ask my officer for the second envelope and give him the word.”
Sam listened intently as the exchange took place and another envelope disgorged its contents, this time a map.
“You’re mad, aren’t you? To hell with it. You only live once. Ok, I’m game. That the final destination?”
He smiled at the stony-faced Marine officer as Sam Rossiter laughed in his ear.
“Of course, I’m not that stupid. So there’s fuelling facilities, everything we need there? Look, I’ll send a few of my boys over there pronto. Make sure it’s organised for everything we’ll need. Plus, we’ll need to stop on the way to top off. At least twice. You got that sort of clout.”
He laughed at Rossiter’s response.
“Yeah, well I guess we all know someone with that sort of clout. Fair point, Sam. Go on…”
He listened intently.
“I’ll ring you as soon as I’ve selected them. No problem. Into Lisbon, you say?”
He made more notes.
“Military flight… Ok… send me the details as soon as you’ve organised it. Let me give my boys three hours to get ready. Nothing sooner than that, Sam.”
He nodded, making another swift note.
“Final thing. What’s the actual mission… yeah, yeah, yeah… I know, but don’t give me that. Gimme a clue… think about the pool party… anything you can use?”
Rossiter thought quickly until he remembered the paper plane competition and which one lost by the biggest margin.
“The conversation with Jean. Out and back… remember?”
The clue was weak, but it was enough.
“Holy shit. How far… how many… shit, you can’t say, can you… Ok, Sam. I’m on it.”
Rossiter asked the question and Howard’s face spilt from ear to ear.
“Me, of course. You don’t think I’d let anyone else have her, do you?”
“Whoa there, Howard. They’ll never allow that.”