McCoy tested the water, and after a moment it turned hot. He got a safety razor from his duffel bag and shaved while showering. When he returned to the bedroom, the bed had been stripped, and a freshly pressed set of utilities had been laid on it. And a freshly pressed T-shirt and drawers.
He wondered how many Marines in the 1st Brigade would wear freshly washed-much less pressed-utilities and underwear today. -
And he was just a little uncomfortable with the knowledge that someone in the hotel was watching him closely enough to know when he'd gotten out of bed, and that he hadn't heard anyone enter the room while he was showering.
He put on the underwear, then strapped his Fairbairn to his lower left arm, put on the utilities, and supped his bare feet into rubber sandals. Then he went looking for the din-ing room.
There were five oblong, six-place tables in the room. Major Kim, Lieutenant Taylor, and Master Gunner Zim-merman were sitting at one of them. The chair at the head of the table was empty. McCoy wondered if that was a co-incidence or if it had been left empty for him, as recogni-tion that he was in charge. The Marines recruited from the 1st Brigade were spread among the other tables.
They were, McCoy noticed, all wearing freshly laun-dered utilities.
Zimmerman rose as McCoy approached the table. After a moment, Major Kim got up, and finally Taylor.
"Good morning, sir," Zimmerman said.
That explained the empty chair at the head of the table.
It was Zimmerman's method of making the pecking order clear to all hands.
"Good morning, gentlemen," McCoy replied, as he sat down at the head of the table. "Please take your seats."
A young Korean woman in a white ankle-length dress and white apron immediately appeared with a pitcher of coffee. She was no beauty, but she was female and young, and McCoy made a mental note to pass the word to the Marines that the help was off-limits.
Breakfast was in keeping with what were apparently the standards of life in the hotel; it was not at all like what the rest of the Marines in Korea were getting. They were eating powdered eggs with chopped Spam off stainless-steel trays and drinking black coffee from canteen cups. McCoy was served two fried eggs and two slices of Spam on a china plate. Another plate held toast. There was both orange mar-malade and butter.
It was too much for McCoy to let pass without com-ment.
"I'm delighted the Navy has taken over the mess, Mr. Tay-lor," he said. "We Marines are not used to living like this."
"But you can get used to it in a hurry, right?" Taylor said. "Actually, you have Major Kim to thank."
"Then thank you, Major Kim," McCoy said, in Korean.
Kim shrugged to suggest thanks were not necessary.
"Major Dunston said whatever I could do to..."
"Did he get into what we're supposed to do here?"
"No, sir."
"A Marine pilot has been shot down," McCoy said. "Near Taejon. There is reason to believe he survived the crash and may still be alive. For reasons I can't get into, it is important that we get him back. Or have proof that he's dead."
"If he has been taken prisoner," Kim said, immediately, "we can probably find that out, and also, probably, where he is being held. But... the Communists often do not take prisoners...."
"And they don't keep records of which prisoners were shot and where," McCoy finished for him.
Kim nodded.
"Right after breakfast," McCoy said, "you and I are going into Pusan. Major Dunston's been working on this overnight, and maybe you'll be able to help," McCoy said.
"Yes, sir."
I think he swallowed that.
"If we can locate him," McCoy went on. "My men here are trained to operate behind the enemy's lines. We may try to go get him."
Major Kim said nothing.
He thinks that's a stupid idea. But I think he believes me, which is important.
"The junk here, if we decide to go after this pilot, would be useful in infiltrating the team," McCoy said. "So while we are in Pusan, Lieutenant Taylor is going to see what shape it's in. If there's something wrong with it, it will have to be repaired. If it's seaworthy, we'll take it out for a dry run as soon as we can. Maybe as soon as this afternoon. Time is important."
Major Kim nodded.
"On the dry run-the practice run, the rehearsal run- we'll take half of the Marines and eight or ten of your men with us," McCoy said.
"May I ask why?"
"In the Marine Corps, we try to make a dry run as much like the real thing as we can," McCoy said.
"I will tell my lieutenant to prepare the men," Kim said.
And he swallowed that, too. So far, so good.
"I don't know how much, if any, fuel is aboard the junk," Taylor said. "Or available here."
"Give that problem to Sergeant Jennings, Mr. Zimmer-man," McCoy said. "Have it solved by the time we get back from Pusan."
"Aye, aye, sir," Zimmerman said.
McCoy looked down at his plate and was surprised to see he had finished eating.
He stood up.
"Let's get this show on the road," he said.
[FOUR]
MARINE LIAISON OFFICE USAF
AIRFIELD K-l
PUSAN, KOREA
1105 5 AUGUST 1950
"The Badoeng Strait's COD isn't here yet, McCoy," Cap-tain Kenneth Overton said when McCoy and Zimmerman walked into his office.
"Colonel Dunn said `by twelve hundred,'" McCoy replied.
"But you have an envelope," Overton said, smiling somewhat smugly, and handed McCoy a business-size en-velope, with "Capt K. McCoy, USMC" written on it in pencil.
McCoy took it and opened it. There was a note, written in pencil.
K-l, 0800 5 AUG
McCoy: I want to know what's happened to Pick Pickering.
I know what his father really does for a living.
The PIO at Eighth Army will know where I am.
If I don't hear from you, I will write my story on what I do know.
Jeanette Priestly Chicago Tribune
"Shit," McCoy said, and handed the note to Zimmer-man.
"Oh, Jesus!" Zimmerman said.
"When was she here?" McCoy asked of Captain Over-ton.
"She was here twice. Last night, right after you were. And again this morning. She was asking about a Major Pickering."
"What was she asking about Pickering?"
"If I'd heard anything about him."
"And had you?"
"Isn't he the guy who's been busting all the locomo-tives?"
"That's all you know about him?"
"I had the feeling the lady has the hots for him. She said he was aboard the Badoeng Strait, and she wanted a ride out to her."
"And?"
"Last night, I told her there wouldn't be a COD until first thing this morning. She was back here at oh seven hundred. A COD from the Sicily landed at oh seven thirty and she leaned hard on the pilot to take her out to the Ba-doeng Strait."
"And?"
"She's a persuasive lady. Good-looking lady, too. The Sicily pilot caved in enough to get the Air Force to radio for permission. It was denied. Then she asked if I ever saw you around here."
"And you told her `yeah'?" McCoy asked, icily.