but there’s a nasty teenager with a major’s rank flying the plane. He’s
impatient.’
‘Tell him to go to blazes,’ laughed the man named Hollander. ‘We do have
your orders and also a little surprise for you: you’re a lieutenant
colonel. Tell the major to get his uniform pressed.’
‘Seems I jumped one.’
‘Not really. You got your majority last year. Apparently yqu don’t have
much use for titles in Lisbon.’
‘Or military associations,’ interjected Ballantyne.
‘Neither, actually,’ said David. ‘At least I wasn’t broken. I had
premonitions of walking guard duty around latrines.’
‘Hardly.’ Hollander sat down in one of the four deck chairs, gesturing
David to do the same. It was his way of indicating that their meeting might
not be as short as Spaulding had thought. ‘If it was a time for parades or
revelations, I’m sure you’d be honored in the front ranks.’
‘Thanks,’ said David, sitting down. ‘That removes a very real concern.
What’s this all aboutT
‘Again, we don’t have answers, only ex cathedra instructions. We’re to ask
you several questions – only one of which could preclude our delivering
your orders. Let’s get that over with first; I’m sure you’d like to know at
least where you’re going.’Hollander smiled his genuine smile again.
‘I would. Go on.’
‘Since you were relieved of your duties in Lisbon, have you made contact –
intentional or otherwise – with anyone outside the embassy? I mean by this,
even the most innocuous good-bye? Or a settling of a bill – a restaurant,
a store; or a chance run-in with an acquaintance at the airport, or on the
way to the airport?’
‘No. And I had my luggage sent in diplomatic cartons; no
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suitcases, no traveling gear.’
‘You’re thorough,’ said Ballantyne, still standing.
‘I’ve had reason to be. Naturally, I had engagements for the week after I
returned from the north country. . . .
‘From where?’asked Hollander.
‘Basque and Navarre. Contact points below the border. I always scheduled
engagements right after; it kept a continuity. Not many, just enough to
keep in sight. Part of the cover. I had two this week; lunch and
cocktails.’
‘What about themT Ballantyne sat down next to David.
‘I instructed Marshall – he’s the cryp who took my orders -to call each
just before I was supposed to show up. Say I’d be delayed. That was all.’
‘Not that you wouldn’t be thereT Hollander seemed fascinated.
‘No. Just delayed. It fit the cover.’
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ laughed Hollander. ‘You answered
affirmatively and then some. How does New York strike youT
‘As it always has: pleasantly for limited periods.’
‘I don’t know for how long but that’s your assignment. And out of uniform,
colonel.’
‘I lived in New York. I know a lot of people there.’
‘Your new cover is simplicity itself. You’ve been discharged most honorably
after service in Italy. Medical reasons, minor wounds.’ Hollander took out
an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it across to
David. ‘It’s all here. Terribly simple, papers … everything.’
‘O.K.,’ said David, accepting the envelope. ‘I’m a ruptured duck in New
York. So far, very nice. You couldn’t make it the real thing, could youT
‘The papers are simple, I didn’t say authentic. Sorry.’
‘So am 1. What happens thenT
‘Someone’s very solicitous of you. You have an excellent job; good pay,
too. With Meridian Aircraft.’
Weridian?’
‘Blueprint Division.’
‘I thought Meridian was in the Midwest. Illinois or Michigan.’
‘It has a New York office. Or it does now.’
‘Aircraft blueprints, I assume.’
‘I should think so.’
‘Is it counterespionageT
‘We don’t know,’ answered Ballantyne. ‘We weren’t given
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any data except the names of the two men you’ll report to.’
‘They’re in the envelope?,
‘No,’ said Hollander. ‘They’re verbal and to be committed. Nothing written
until you’re on the premises.’
‘Oh, Christ, this all sounds like Ed Pace. He loves this kind of nonsense.’
‘Sony, again. It’s above Pace.’
4What? … I didn’t think anything was, except maybe Holy Communion . . .
. Then how do you report? And to whom?’
‘Priority courier straight through to an address in Washington. No
department listing, but transmission and priority cleared through Field
Division, Fairfax.’
Spaulding emitted a soft, nearly inaudible whistle. ‘What are the two
namesT
‘The first is Lyons. Eugene Lyons. He’s an aerophysicist. We’re to tell you
that he’s a bit strange, but a goddarnned genius.’
:In other words, reject the man; accept the genius.’
Something like that. I suppose you’re used to it,’ said Ballantyne.
‘Yes,’ answered Spaulding. ‘And the other?’
‘A man named Kendall.’ Hollander crossed his legs. ‘Nothing on him; he’s
just a name. Walter Kendall. Have no idea what he does.’
David pulled the strap across his waist in the removable seat. The 13- 1 Ts
engines were revving at high speed, sending vibrations through the huge
fuselage. He looked about in a way he hadn’t looked at an airplane before,
trying to reduce the spans and the plating to some kind of imaginary
blueprint. If Hollander’s description of his assignment was accurate – and
why shouldn’t it be? – he’d be studying aircraft blueprints within a few
days.
What struck him as strange were the methods of precaution. In a word, they
were unreasonable; they went beyond even abnormal concerns for security. It
would have been a simple matter for him to report to Washington, be
reassigned, and be given an in-depth briefing. Instead, apparently there
would be no briefing.
Why not?
Was he to accept open-ended orders from two men he’d never met before?
Without the sanction of recognition – even intro-
140
duction -from any military authority? What the hell was Ed Pace doing?
Sorry. . . . It’s above Pace.
Those were the words Hollander had used.
. . . cleared through Field Division, Fairfax.
Hollander again.
Except for the White House itself, David realized that Fairfax was about as
high up as one could go. But Fairfax was still military. And he wasn’t
being instructed by Fairfax, simply ‘cleared.’
Hollander’s remaining ‘questions’ had not been questions at all, really.
They had been introduced with interrogatory words: do you, have you, can
you. But not questions; merely further instructions.
‘Do you have friends in any of the aircraft companies? On the executive
levelT
He didn’t know, for God’s sake. He’d been out of the country so damned long
he wasn’t sure he had any friends, period.
Regardless, Hollander had said, he was to avoid any such ‘friends’- should
they exist. Report their names to Walter Kendall, if he ran across them.
‘Have you any women in New York who are in the public eye?$.
What kind of question was that? Silliest goddamned thing he’d ever heard
of! What the hell did Hollander mean?
The balding, bespectacled Az-Am agent had clarified succintly. It was
listed in David’s file that he had supplemented his civilian income as a
radio performer. That meant he knew actresses.
And actors, Spaulding suggested. And so what?
Friendships with well-known actresses could lead to newspaper photographs,
Hollander rejoined. Or speculations in columns; his name in print. That,
too, was to be avoided.
David recalled that Jhe did know – knew – several girls who’d done well in
pictures since he’d left. He’d had a short-lived affair with an actress who
was currently a major star for Warner Brothers. Reluctantly he agreed with
Hollander; the agent was right. Such contacts would be avoided.
‘Can you absorb quickly, commit to memory, blueprint specifications
unrelated to industrial design?’
Given a breakdown key of correlative symbols and material
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factors, the answer was probably yes.
Then he was to prepare himself – however it was done – for aircraft design.
That, thought Spaulding, was obvious.
That, Hollander had said, was all he could tell him.
The B- 17 taxied to the west extreme of the Lajes runway and turned for
takeoff. The disagreeable major had made it a point to be standing by the
cargo hatch looking at his wristwatch when Spaulding returned. David had
climbed out of the jeep, shaken hands with Ballantyne and held up three
fingers to the major.
‘The timer lost count during the last chukker,’ he said to the pilot. ‘You
know how it is with these striped-pants boys.’
The major had not been amused.
The aircraft gathered speed, the ground beneath hammered against the
landing gear with increasing ferocity. In seconds the plane would be
airborne. David bent over to pick up an Azores newspaper that Hollander had
given him and which he’d placed at his feet when strapping himself in.
Suddenly it happened. An explosion of such force that the removable seat
flew out of its clamps and jettisoned into the right wall of the plane,
carrying David, bent over, with it. And he’d never know but often speculate
on whether that Azores newspaper had saved his life.
Smoke was everywhere; the aircraft careened off the ground and spun
laterally. The sound of twisting metal filled the cabin with a continuous,