Throughout most of the United States the feeling was common that the severe hold that the enemy had clamped onto the country would have to be relaxed; the shock of defeat and the near terror of the early occupation were past and gone, and the time was judged ripe for the occupying forces to ease their grip and start talking about the eventual day when national sovereignty would again become a reality. But as day succeeded day there was no evidence whatever that this was to take place at any time in the visible future. The enemy if anything was even more in evidence and he intruded himself into almost every facet of American life.
As the edge of winter began to be felt and the skies grew leaden overhead, the U.S.S. Ramon Magsaysay touched secretly at Wain-wright, Alaska. Although the enemy was in substantial possession of the continental United States, the vastness of Alaska and its remoteness from most of the commercial and industrial activity of the nation had spared it from the same intensity of occupation and supervision. It had been possible, therefore, for two massive pro-peller-driven C-124 Globemasters to cross the vast open tundra of the Arctic on apparently routine missions and to set down at
Wainwright on the eighty-six-hundred-foot runway unchallenged. There had not been a single representative of the enemy there, or any agent to report to him what was going on, when, under cover of a thick, steady snowstorm, the multidecked airlifters had been unloaded and the cargo had been transferred to lighters. By morning the supplies that the aircraft had brought in were gone; the planes themselves departed shortly thereafter despite the continuing snowfall, heading for Point Barrow and other stops along the northern supply route. Two passengers were carried out of Wainwright, men who were indistinguishable in their heavy parkas and cold weather clothing from the crew members who had come in.
Four days later the commander of the Hunters Point Shipyard reached the sanctuary that had been prepared in advance for him in Canada. As a presumed rescuee from the Yukon Territory he attracted little notice and, despite the presence of agents in the area, there was no notice of his arrival or any intimation as to his identity.
Walter Wagner returned almost quietly to the underground headquarters of Thomas Jefferson. As soon as he had showered and changed he sat down with his colleagues and filled them in completely on the operation. For the first time full details were available; in the e*xtensive debriefing, which took some time, Wagner brought them all up to date to the moment when he had ridden back toward Wainwright in a lighter, the snow shrouding even the ice-choked sea, and the nuclear submarine already invisible behind him. When he had finished, Admiral Haymarket spoke for them all. “Walt, I don’t need to tell you what your part in all this meant, but at the same time you know as well as I do that it was a team effort — here, at Hunters Point, at Mare Island, and at all of the places where we held them up and kept their aircraft on the ground.”
“Right, sir,” Wagner answered. “One other thing: I had a good chance to observe the crew. I never saw a better bunch of pros in my life. You can depend on them all the way, no matter what happens. The boys on the Dolly were just as good. Any word from them, by the way?”
The admiral nodded. “They went into this thing knowing that they were expendable and that we couldn’t let them abandon their ship in the middle of the northern Pacific without giving too much of the show away. I’ve had a report; they’re close in to Japan now and the arrangements for their reception are in good order.”
“At a time like this,” Major Pappas said, “it’s nice to have friends.”
“Anytime,” Stanley Cumberland commented.
The admiral grew grimmer for a moment. “As soon as we knew that Magsaysay had it made through the Bering Strait and that the show was definitely on the road, we put the interpreter, Hewlitt, in. So far it looks as though the estimates we had on him were accurate; we got a feedback which indicates very strongly that he did deliver the goods — apparently he shook up Zalinsky quite thoroughly.”
“Since we pretty much had to choose one from one,” General Gifford said, “it looks as if we lucked out.”
“As long as Zalinsky himself stays in the saddle Hewlitt should be effective,” Colonel Prichard commented. “Against Rostovitch it would probably be a different matter.”
“Things are getting into my area now,” Higbee said, “and I’m working on that.”
“Great, Ed,” Prichard answered, “but remember that this man, no matter how willing and courageous he may be, is an amateur and he’d be up against the roughest pro in the business. Ted or Walt could handle him, but even they’d have to push to do it. Propaganda won’t erase that.”
“Propaganda wasn’t what I had in mind. He’ll need some help and I plan to see that he gets it.”
“Anyway, gentlemen,” the admiral said, “we’ve given them three weeks. By the end of that time…” He did not need to finish the sentence. Every man there knew that at that moment Magsaysay was already under the ice cap and, barring incredibly bad luck, before the ultimatum would expire she would be far to the east, close to Atlantic waters and within missile-firing range of the enemy’s homeland.
Despite a slight chill that tinged the air, Hewlitt was comfortable as he drove south from Alexandria, with Barbara close beside him. He kept the car going at an even speed; neither said anything — they were sharing a common mood.
At last Barbara spoke. “When we get back, are you going to stay at the house tonight?”
He looked at her for a moment. “I’d like to.”
She drummed her fingertips gently against the upholstery. “More and more I find that I’m thinking in terms of time. How much of it we may have left.”
Hewlitt drew breath. “I know, I feel it all around me. Every time I see Zalinsky. Sometimes he looks at me as though he was asking for something, other times he ignores the fact that I’m alive.”
Barbara looked out of the window for an interval despite the fact that there was little to see. “Hew, you know, don’t you, that he’s got some pretty deep troubles of his own?”
He glanced at her. “Internal or external?”
“External. I debated telling you this, but I think you should know — it may help in dealing with him. The Actor’s in serious trouble. More than that, their whole government is.”
He considered that as he drove, keeping his eyes on the road. “Not just another power play?” he asked.
Barbara shook her head. “No — it’s more than that. All Europe knows about the submarine of course — everybody does. But it isn’t that. When they tried to take us over they simply bit off too much. Now they’ve got China applying pressure from the east and a lot of other powers nibbling at their flanks. And they don’t have any friends to speak of.”
Hewlitt eased the car around a curve. “They’re pretty elastic. And they have a habit of landing on their feet.”
Barbara didn’t want to argue the point. “All right, maybe they will. Meanwhile there’s us.”
Hewlitt looked at the road. “I’ve been thinking about that,” he said. “Right now I’m in a pretty risky position. I can’t complain; I asked for it. This may sound funny to you, but I’ve never been particularly concerned about myself in all this; maybe I’m being fatalistic — I don’t know. The only thing that’s been on my mind recently is the thought that if I don’t come out of it, I won’t have you around anymore.”