He ran the rest of the way to the car. The film was where he had left it, in the crown of his campaign hat, concealed there by a skivvy shirt.
He got behind the wheel and backed up to where Ellen stood with Lieutenant Sessions. Sessions opened the back door, and she got in and slumped against the seat, white-faced and white-eyed.
The ferry finally touched the near shore, and Lieutenant Macklin, furiously blowing his whistle, led the cavalry up the road to them.
(Three)
Lieutenant Sessions learned quick, McCoy decided. You had to give him that. He took charge, the way an officer was expected to. Lieutenant Macklin was running around like a fucking chicken with his head cut off. The first thing he was worried about was that the Chinese would "counterattack." They were a bunch of fucking bandits, more than half of them were dead. Military units counterattacked. What was left of the Chinese were still running.
The second thing that worried Macklin was what the colonel would think. His orders were to avoid a "confrontation" at all costs. There had obviously been a "confrontation."
"There's sure to be an official inquiry," Macklin said. "We're going to have to explain all these bodies. God, there must be a dozen of them! How are we going to explain all these dead Chinese?"
"There's eighteen," McCoy said helpfully. "I counted them. I guess we're just going to have to say we shot them."
Both Sessions and Macklin gave him dirty looks. Sessions still didn't like it that McCoy was contemptuous of Macklin, who was after all an officer. And Macklin thought that Killer McCoy was not only an insolent enlisted man, but was more than likely responsible for what had happened.
What bothered Macklin, McCoy understood, was not that they had almost gotten themselves killed, but that he himself was somehow going to be embarrassed before the colonel. He was, when it came down to it, the officer in command.
"Corporal," Macklin snapped. "I don't expect you to understand this, but what we have here is an International Incident."
"You weren't even involved, Lieutenant," McCoy said. "You were on the other side of the river. By the time you got here, it was all over."
"That's enough, McCoy!" Sessions snapped.
"I'm the officer in charge," Macklin flared. "Of course, I'm involved!"
"Aye, aye, sir," McCoy said.
Macklin sucked in his breath, in preparation, McCoy sensed, to really putting him in his place.
Sessions stopped him by speaking first.
"The important thing, Macklin," he said, while Lieutenant Macklin paused to draw in a breath, "is to place the rolls of film McCoy took into the proper hands at Tientsin. That's the primary objective of this whole operation."
"Yes, of course," Macklin said impatiently, itching to launch into McCoy. "But-"
Sessions cut him off again.
"Next in importance is the physical safety of the Reverend and Mrs. Feller."
"Yes, of course," Macklin repeated.
"And as you point out, there is the problem of the bodies," Sessions said.
"Obviously," Macklin said. "McCoy's latest contribution to the death rate in China."
Sessions smiled at that.
"We can't just drive off and leave eighteen bodies in the road," Sessions said. "And I think McCoy and I should separate, in case something should happen to one or the other of us-"
Now Macklin interrupted him: "You do think there's a chance of a counterattack, then?"
"I think it's very unlikely," Sessions said, "but not impossible."
He's humoring the sonofabitch, McCoy thought.
"As I was saying," Sessions went on, "I think we should do whatever we have to, to make sure that either McCoy or I make it to Tientsin, to be a witness to the fact that there are German PAK38s in Japanese hands."
"I take your point," Macklin said solemnly. "What do you propose?"
Just as solemnly, Sessions proposed that McCoy, two Marine trucks, and all the extra drivers be left behind in a detachment commanded by Lieutenant Macklin, while he and Sergeant Zimmerman and everybody and everything else immediately left for Tientsin.
"I think that's the thing to do," Macklin solemnly judged.
McCoy was almost positive the Japanese would not try anything else. They would think the Americans had something else in mind-like an ambush-when they stayed behind with the bodies. The Japanese would have left the bodies where they fell, he knew, unless they felt ambitious enough to throw them into the river.
But just to be sure, he set up as good a perimeter guard as he could with the few men he had. Meanwhile Lieutenant Macklin relieved him of the Thompson submachine gun. He kept it with him where he spent the night in the cab of one of the trucks.
Early the next morning a mixed detachment of French Foreign Legionnaires, Italian marines, and Tientsin Marines showed up.
McCoy was a little uncomfortable when he saw the Italians, but if they knew who he was, there was no sign. Somewhat reluctantly, they set about loading the bodies on the trucks they had brought with them.
It was dark before they got to the International Settlement in Tientsin, and there was no way McCoy could get away to try to go see Ellen Feller in the Christian Missionary Alliance mission. The Tientsin officers kept him up all night writing down what had happened at the ferry.
Some of their questions made him more than uncomfortable.
First, they went out of their way to persuade him to admit that he had been more than a little excited. If he hadn't been a little excited (We're not suggesting you were afraid, McCoy. Nobody's saying that. But weren't you really nervous?) the "confrontation" could have been avoided.
"Sir, there was no way what happened could have been avoided. I was scared and excited, but that had nothing to do with what happened."
When they realized they weren't going to get him to acknowledge-even obliquely-that the incident was his fault, they dropped another, more uncomfortable accusation on him:
"Mrs. Feller tells us that you and Sergeant Zimmerman went around shooting the wounded, McCoy,',' one of them asked. "Was that necessary?"
McCoy had been around officers long enough to know when they were up to something. They were trying to stick it in Zimmerman. Zimmerman had a Chinese wife and kids. He couldn't afford to be busted.
"Nobody shot any wounded, Captain. Not the way you make it sound."
"Then why do you suppose both Mrs. Feller and Lieutenant Macklin both say that's what happened?"
"I don't know," McCoy said. "Lieutenant Macklin didn't even show up there until it was all over. So far as I know, Sergeant Zimmerman didn't fire his weapon. Lieutenant Sessions and I had to shoot a couple of them after they were down."
"Why did you feel you had to do that?"
"Because there was three of us and fifty of them, and the rest of the convoy was still across the river. Those guys that were down were still trying to fire their weapons."
"You don't say 'sir' very often, do you, Corporal?"
"Sir, no disrespect intended, sir," McCoy said.
"You say both you and Lieutenant Sessions found it necessary to shoot wounded men again?"
"Yes, sir."
"Mrs. Feller obviously confused you with Sergeant Zimmerman," the officer said, and McCoy knew that was the last anybody was going to hear about making sure the Chinese were really dead.
The next morning, a runner came after him while he was having breakfast in the mess. Lieutenant Sessions was waiting for him in the orderly room.
Sessions told him there that since the Japanese would by now suspect he was not a missionary, he had decided there was no point to his staying in China for the several months he had originally planned. So he was now going to take the President Wilson home with the Fellers.
"I'd like to say good-bye to her, Lieutenant," McCoy said.
"I'm not sure that's wise," Sessions said then. But in the end Sessions changed his mind and decided to be a good guy and told the Tientsin officers he wanted to speak to McCoy aboard the ship before he left.