"I'm sorry the Secretary of the Navy got involved, Sir. And that you did, Sir."
"So am I," Mclnerney said.
"I'd love to stay here and have several strong drinks, Charley," Mclner-ney said. "But I have to go find a message center so I can send a radio to General Forrest telling him that Gunny Zimmerman is running around Guadal-canal somewhere."
"Sir, you can call him from here, if you like," Charley said.
"Call, as in telephone call, Charley?"
"The Pacific and Far East Shipping Company Office in Honolulu has a dedicated line to their office in San Francisco."
"And you can use it?" Mclnerney asked incredulously.
Galloway walked to the wall of the patio and returned with a telephone on a long cord. He dialed a number.
"This is Captain Galloway," he said. "Would you put me through to San Francisco, please?"
He handed the phone to General Mclnerney.
[ONE]
Naval Air Transport Station
Brisbane, Australia
0625 Hours 24 November 1942
The storm struck as the Consolidated PB2Y-3 Coronado made its final ap-proach. They'd had bad weather all along the route from Hawaii, and their takeoff from the refueling stop at Midway Island was delayed for over two hours by weather. As Captain Edward Sessions, USMC, saw the flashes of lightning, heard the rain drumming on the fuselage, felt the huge plane being buffeted by strong winds, and saw the whitecaps on the water, he thought it entirely likely that having flown literally close to halfway around the world, he was about to get killed on landing.
It had been a long trip. It was 2,269 miles from Washington to San Diego; 2,606 miles from San Diego to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii; and 4,702 from Pearl Harbor to Brisbane-with a refueling stop at Midway Island.
The landing itself was a series of crashes against the water. When they finally stopped, the Coronado rocked sickeningly from side to side, as the pilot taxied it as close as he dared to the shoreline. The storm seemed to worsen by the minute.
A little train of open whaleboats started out through the choppy waters to the Coronado. It required great boat-handling skill to transfer the passengers and cargo (with the exception of the boxes Sessions was carrying, mostly mail-bags) into the whaleboats without permitting the boats to crash against the thin aluminum of the seaplane.
By the time the whaleboats made it from the seaplane to the shore, all the passengers were soaked through. On the face of the quai itself, there was a flight of narrow stone steps onto which the passengers had to jump from the bobbing whaleboats.
Sessions was amazed that no one fell into the water, and that he finally managed to heave his personal luggage and the boxes onto the steps without losing anything.
He surveyed the boxes, decided the one carrying the obsolete M94 Cryptographic Device and its replacement was the most valuable, picked it up, and carried it up the stone stairs.
A Marine, a very young one, wearing an Army poncho and a rain-soaked khaki fore-and-aft cap, walked up to him and saluted.
"Captain Sessions, Sir?"
"Right."
"Staff Sergeant Koffler, Sir. If you'll point out your gear, Sir, I'll take care of it. General Pickering's over there, Sir." He pointed to two cars, a Studebaker President and a Jaguar convertible.
"Everything that's on those steps, Sergeant. Thank you," Sessions said, and headed toward the Studebaker.
He was halfway there before his tired mind slipped into gear.
"Staff Sergeant"? Is that what he said? That boy is a staff sergeant? And what did he say his name was? "Koffler"? That's the kid who's been living like an animal under the noses of the Japs on Buka?
As he came close to the Studebaker, the rear door opened, and he stepped in. Brigadier General Fleming W. Pickering extended his hands to take the box from him.
"Hello, Ed, how was the flight?" Pickering said.
"About like that, Sir," Sessions said, waving a hand at the rough water. "Most of the way from Midway."
A hand was thrust at him, and Sessions took it before he saw that it was attached to First Lieutenant Kenneth R. McCoy, USMCR. "Welcome to sunny Australia," McCoy said.
"If it hasn't melted, I have a letter-actually a little package-from Ernie for you," Sessions said.
"Give it to him now," Pickering said. "You have to go back out in the rain. You're going to staying with us. Which means you and McCoy will go in the Jaguar to the house, while George and I take our guests to the SWPOA BOQ."
"They're not here, Sir. They should be on tomorrow's plane, unless Major Brownlee was able to scrounge a ride on an Air Corps B-17. He was going to try."
"Not that I'm not glad to see you, Ed, but how is it the Major waited while the Captain got to fly?"
"I tried to give him my seat, Sir, but the Navy wouldn't let me."
"You hear that, George?" "Yes, Sir."
"Drive up to Koffler and tell him to bring Captain Sessions's stuff to the house."
"Aye, aye, Sir."
"Hello, George," Sessions said. "Congratulations on your promotion."
"If I thought I deserved it, Captain, I'd say thank you."
"You wouldn't have it if it wasn't deserved," Sessions said.
Hart started the engine, drove to the edge of the quai, and waited for Koffler to appear. Then he rolled down the window.
"Koffler, nobody else is coming. Bring all of Captain Sessions's gear out to the house."
"Aye, aye, Sir."
Sessions waited until they were under way, then said, "I can't believe that kid is Koffler."
"Don't let that baby face fool you," McCoy said. "He's one hell of a Marine."
"Speaking of Marines," Pickering said. "What do you think of the two OSS Marines?"
"The Major's all right. Nice guy. Bright. Got his head screwed on cor-rectly. Speaks perfect Spanish."
"And the Captain?"
"The Captain is named Macklin," Sessions said evenly.
"Not..." McCoy said.
"One and the same, Lieutenant McCoy."
"Shit," McCoy said.
For a moment, Pickering was confused. He was also somewhat surprised at the deep bitterness of McCoy's obscenity. And then he remembered hearing Jack Stecker and McCoy talking about an officer named Macklin. There had been some trouble with him in China, where Banning sided with McCoy against him, and again in Quantico, where Macklin tried to keep McCoy from getting commissioned.
"Is this the same officer you and Jack Stecker were talking about, Ken?" Pickering asked. "The one who gave you trouble on the rifle range at Quan-tico?"
"I'm still hoping Sessions is pulling my chain," McCoy said. "He has a strange sense of humor."
"I wish I was kidding about this, Ken," Sessions said. "General, this is the officer, using the term very loosely, with whom McCoy, and I, and Major Banning had trouble in China."
"Does Banning know it's the same man? More important, does Colonel Rickabee?"
Sessions went into his tunic and came out with a soggy envelope. "Colonel Rickabee asked me to give you this, Sir," he said. It was a glossy photograph of the abrupt note Secretary Knox had sent Rickabee.