“How do things look?” the colonel asked. “I haven’t been out of this hole in months.”
The hunter who had been the passenger in the car answered him. He was dark and not as tall as his companion, but he knew that the question had been directed more or less at him. “It isn’t good. You have all of the factual news, but the invisible part, the sagging of the national will to resist, is bad. The people are frightened.”
The colonel nodded. “The slaughter of the college students was a bad one. It upset some of our fringe people pretty much and we had to drop quite a few.”
“How did you manage that?” the first hunter asked. He was blond and heavy, the weather-beaten man of the western outdoors in appearance — a helicopter pilot by profession.
“We put out the word that despite our best efforts, we had to face the fact that the situation was hopeless. We added that we believed that some of the other free countries of the world would eventually come to our rescue and that there was some hope that the government that had overrun us was due to collapse. Our higher-up people were all solid, of course.”
“Did they buy it?”
“I think so: I just gave you the bare bones of it; Ed Higbee prepared the story and when he got through I was ready to believe it myself.”
“I miss his column,” the smaller man said. “I used to read him whenever I had the chance. I hope that he’ll go back to it someday.” “He may,” the colonel answered, “but he has another idea. When this is all over, he wants to run for the Senate. If it all works out, that might put him up against Fitzhugh; he’s from the same state.” “Then he’s in,” the blond man cut in. “Fitzhugh couldn’t get elected constable today — if we had elections.”
A small light went on on the panel of the colonel’s intercom. He noted it immediately and got to his feet. “Dave,” he said to the helicopter pilot, “you can wait here if you’d like; no offense, but you know the rules. Commander, if you’ll follow me, the admiral is ready to see you.”
Admiral Haymarket, too, showed the strain that he was under. He motioned his visitors to chairs and personally drew three cups of coffee without asking first if they were wanted. When he had seated himself behind his desk once more, he could have been on the bridge of his flagship steaming at flank speed into the battle of Midway.
“Commander,” he began, “at the price of the added risk I wanted to bring you here so that we could talk face to face before this thing kicks off. When it does, you will probably be, without exaggeration, in one of the most vital command situations in the history of the United States Navy.”
“I’m well awara of that, sir,” the commander answered. “Completely aware.”
The admiral tried his coffee and then continued. “I’m not going to go into details as to how we decided on you for this mission and we assumed only one thing — that you would volunteer.”
The commander chose his words with great care. “Right now, sir, there are quite a few people, especially in light of recent events, who would question my right to call myself a hundred per cent American. I wonder, sir, if you can conceive what it means to me to have this chance to prove them wrong.”
The admiral tilted back in his chair for a moment, then sat upright again. “Commander, I think that I can. I know that I’m a WASP, a White Anglo-Saxon Protestant, but I’ve served with too many good men of other persuasions not to be aware.”
“Another thing, sir,” the commander continued, “I don’t know what guardian angel worked overtime to help get me picked for this assignment, but speaking purely as a man, it’s worth my entire life to me to have it. I’ll give you the very best that I’ve got to offer.”
The admiral tapped a folder on his desk. “Judging by your service record, commander, that’s all we’ll need. I chose you for this because you’re one of the very best that the Navy has, and you were available. All I can say is that I’m damn glad you weren’t at sea and tied up the way that so many of our people are now. God willing you will be at sea shortly; I’d give everything I have to go with you.”
“As of now, sir, with your permission your name will be posted on the crew list. You will be the only member on TAD elsewhere.”
“Commander, you do that. And just one more thing: if I don’t see you again before you leave here. The admiral stood up. “Good luck.”
“Thank you, sir. We try to make our own luck, along with our drinking water.”
“You will.” The admiral shook hands. “Go on to your briefings and use that brain of yours. If you see anything you don’t like, let us know immediately. We’ve got other submariners here, but none of us pretends to know it all.”
“Thank you, sir.”
When the commander had gone the admiral sat down again and stared at the wall in front of him. Then he turned to look at the small framed portrait of another naval officer that stood on his side table. For several seconds he studied the features of his son and then slowly shook his head. “You’re awfully damn good,” he said softly. “But I couldn’t risk it. I picked the best that we’ve got — now may God help him.”
The warden of the federal penitentiary at Leavenworth had known for some time that he would be replaced. He therefore had all of his records in order, all of his routine work fully current, and everything within the institution that he controlled in the best condition that the circumstances permitted. When he received a phone call which informed him somewhat bruskly that his successor would be there the following day to take over, he leaned back in his chair, considered the situation carefully, and decided that he was ready. He had been planning to retire for some time anyway.
His successor, who arrived alone, was shown into his office shortly after nine o’clock the next morning and afforded him a considerable surprise: he had not been expecting a woman. Because she was an enemy of his country, the warden made her welcome with formal courtesy, wondering as he did so how in the hell she proposed to head up an institution which contained several hundred of the most incorrigible male criminals that the nation had produced. However, that was now her problem.
The new warden sat down and stated her purpose in quite good, if accented, English. “I have arrived to become the head of this prison,” she announced.
The warden waved his arm through the air to suggest the whole of the installation. “Very well; if you have any official documents to establish that fact, I will then formally turn over control to you.”
“It is correct that you should ask that,” the woman answered. “I have such documents and I show them to you gladly if you can read my language.”
The warden shook his head. “I’ll have to take you on faith, then. I had been notified that someone was coming, but to be truthful I was not expecting a lady.”
His successor surprised him by smiling; as she did so she seemed to be, for that moment, a quite agreeable person.
“I understand; you were not told. Nevertheless, I am a penologist. I have been funning a women’s prison, but I was for this one selected because I have the English.”
“You certainly do. I will take as much time as you would like to show you around and acquaint you with all of our facilities.”
“You are very kind — I did not expect this. You may call me Marinka; it is much easier to say than my last name, which it is very difficult for you to pronounce.”