"Apparently not," McCoy said. "Okay, turn the lights on and drive me to Base Operations. Maybe this guy can get us someplace more comfortable to set up shop than a ware-house on the pier."
[FIVE]
Major Dunston was waiting for McCoy in a Jeep parked beside the base operations building.
McCoy got out of Jennings's Jeep and walked up to Dunston's Jeep.
"I have to go to the pier in Pusan," he announced. "We have to talk, obviously. Talking in the Jeep Okay with you?"
"Fine, get in," Dunston added. "I know where you're go-ing on the pier."
"You've got people on the pier?" McCoy asked.
Dunston nodded, started the Jeep, and drove off. McCoy made a follow me gesture with his arm, and Sergeant Jen-nings pulled his Jeep behind Dunston's.
"First things first, I suppose," McCoy said. "Are you a major?"
"I'm a civilian with the assimilated rank of major," Dun-ston said. "In War Two, I was an OSS captain in Europe. `Major' Dunston is a convenient cover."
"I'm a Marine captain who was a Marine major in the OSS during War Two," McCoy said. "In the Pacific."
"I know who you are, McCoy," Dunston said. "What do they say? `Your reputation precedes you.' I'm really look-ing forward to working with you."
What is that, soft soap?
What reputation precedes me? The Killer McCoy busi-ness? Or that I was sent home from Tokyo and almost booted out of the Corps?
"One of Colonel Dunn's Corsair pilots was shot down yesterday morning near Taejon, while shooting up a North Korean railroad train. Colonel Dunn flew over the crash site almost immediately afterward. He believes the pilot walked away from the crash."
"And?"
"Extraordinary measures are called for to get him back," McCoy said. "Or to determine beyond any doubt that he's KIA."
"Who is he, some congressman's son?"
"General Pickering's son," McCoy said.
"Jesus Christ!" Dunston exclaimed, genuinely sur-prised. "And the Marine Corps let him fly combat sorties?"
"Why not?" McCoy said. "Joseph Stalin's son was not only in the front lines as an infantry officer but was cap-tured by the Germans."
"I heard that," Dunston said. "He committed suicide in a POW camp by walking past the Dead Line. I also heard the Germans shot the two Germans on the Dead Line machine gun for gross stupidity."
"It would be gross stupidity on our part if we let the NKs know who they may have taken prisoner."
"Yeah."
"You have some reliable agents the other side of the line?"
"Some. A lot of them were caught up in the NKs shoot-anybody-who-even-might-be-dangerous occupation pol-icy."
"Gold talks," McCoy said. "You believe that?"
"Absolutely. What are you going to try to buy?"
"What do you think of putting a price on Pickering?"
"For what?"
"So much for locating him, so much more for hiding him from the North Koreans, so much more-a lot more- for getting him back."
"Let me think about that," Dunston said.
"Sure. But we don't have much time. In the meantime, I'm setting up a small unit to go after him, if he can be found...."
"That's the Marines on the pier?" Dunston asked.
"Right," McCoy said. "And I'm going to need a junk, a junk with a good engine."
"I have one," Dunston said, and added, somewhat smugly, "with a two hundred-horse Caterpillar diesel."
"No kidding?"
"It was used by smugglers," Dunston said. "The national police caught them-before the war started-and confis-cated it, and I swapped them a stock of Japanese small arms for it. Luckily, it was here when the war started-nor-mally I kept it up north, on the East Coast."
This guy seems like he's pretty competent. Which makes him all the more dangerous. If he puts together what we're really doing here, he'll sure as hell tell the station agent in Tokyo, who'll fall all over himself rushing to let Willoughby know.
`Two other things," McCoy said.
"Name them."
"I'm going to have to find someplace to keep my team. I don't want to operate out of a warehouse on the pier."
"And?"
"I need a senior national police officer, a senior one, ma-jor or lieutenant colonel, one who can be trusted."
"Kim Pak Su," Dunston said, immediately. "Major. Very bright."
"Can he be trusted?"
"He got out of Seoul by the skin of his teeth. His wife and kids didn't. They shot his wife, and he doesn't know what happened to the kids."
"The NKs might have gotten word to him that they have the kids, and will shoot them if he doesn't turn. And by shooting his wife, they've made the point they mean it."
"I considered that," Dunston said. "And fed him some al-most good intel to see if it turned up on the other side. It didn't."
Jesus, he is good!
"When can I see him?"
"Tonight, if you want. Tomorrow would be better."
"I'll also need a dozen national policemen for guards."
"No problem."
"And someplace to set up shop?"
"There's a place in Tongnae you could use," Dunston said.
"Where's Tongnae?"
"About twenty miles out of town," Dunston said. "On the water. It's where the junk is tied up, as a matter of fact."
"What's there?"
"It used to be a Japanese officer's brothel," Dunston said. "When our wives were here, we didn't tell them that. We said it used to be a Japanese officer's leave hotel."
"Are the NKs watching it?"
"I don't think so. If they are, they haven't seen anything. I haven't had a hell of a lot of time free lately. I would guess, if they are watching it, they think we're just sitting on it."
"Sounds good."
"If you use it, and like Major Kim, he could increase the security."
"Who's there now?"
"Kim and maybe three other national police officers."
"I thought you said it would be better to see Kim tomor-row?"
"That was before I thought about turning the place over to you. You want to go out there tonight?"
"Let's see what's going on at the pier," McCoy said.
This guy is good. He knew about the Marines at the pier. So he probably has had this ex-officer's whorehouse in mind all along. And Major Kim is his buddy, who therefore can be counted on to tell him what we're doing.
"Okay," Dunston said. "You married, McCoy?"
"Yeah."
"Your wife know what you do for a living?"
"Yes, she does."
"Don't misunderstand me, I love my wife. But she's a little flighty. Until twenty minutes before I didn't get on the plane with her when they flew the embassy people out of Suwon, she really thought I was a financial analyst in the office of the business attach in the embassy in Seoul."
"Where's she now?"
"In Chevy Chase, Maryland, with her folks."
"Mine is in Tokyo," McCoy said. "Which is what they call a mixed blessing."
Dunston braked the Jeep abruptly, almost losing control, to avoid hitting an elderly white-bearded Korean in a white smocklike garment who came out of nowhere and ran, on stilted shoes, in front of them. Sergeant Jennings, behind them, almost ran into them.