“Have you had breakfast?” Ellis hesitated.
“There’s a coffee shop at Anacostia,” he said.
“Which means you haven’t,” Donovan said. “Which means that you’ve been up all night, too. Am I right?”
“I figured I’d better stick around.”
“The cook’s not up,” Donovan said. “But I started the coffee. Do you think you could make us some ham and eggs without burning the kitchen down?” “Yes, sir,” Ellis said.
“I’ll go put a shirt on,” Donovan said, “and grab my bags. I won’t be long.” He started up the stairs, then turned.
“Ellis, maybe you’d better check with Anacostia. I’d hate to go all the way out there only to find we can’t fly out today.”
“I checked just before I came over here,” Ellis said.
“Yes, of course you would have,” Donovan said. “What would I do without you, Ellis?”
“I don’t know,” Ellis said seriously. “Without one man who knows what he’s doing, this outfit would be even more fucked up than it already is.” It took Donovan a moment to realize that Ellis, in his own way, was making a joke.
Then he laughed, a hearty, deep laugh in his belly.
“Sunny-side up, Ellis, please,” he said. “And try not to burn the toast.
“And then he continued up the stairs.
Ellis turned to a telephone on a small table against the wall and dialed a number.
“Ellis,” he said when the call was answered. “I’m at the Boss’s.
We should leave here in thirty minutes. If you don’t hear from me again in two hours, tell the Captain that we’re on our way.” Then he hung up, went into the kitchen, removed his uniform blouse, and, wearing an apron, he made breakfast for the two of them.
Ellis had learned to cook from a Chinese boy aboard the USS Panay of the Yangtze River Patrol. He often thought of that when he was pressed into cook service. That had been a long time ago. He’d seen a twenty-one-year old seaman first striking for bosun third. Seventeen years ago.
But he’d only been back from China a short time. Just before the war started, they’d closed down the Yangtze Patrol and sailed what gunboats were left to the Philippines. They’d wanted to keep him in the Philippines, but his enlistment was up, and he didn’t think he wanted to serve in the Philippines, so he told them he wanted out, and they’d sent him home.
They’d been pissed, of course. Everybody knew the war was coming, and they didn’t want to let him out. But there was nothing they could do about it (enlistments had not yet been frozen). So they’d sent him back as unpleasantly as they could, making him work his way as supercargo on an old and tired coastal freighter headed for overhaul at San Diego.
He’d thought then that since he would never see China again (he loved China), the best thing he could hope for was to keep his nose clean so he could get his twenty years in and retire with his rating.
That was not quite two years ago.
He had fallen into the shit and come up smelling like roses. The orders that were soon sending him back to China (and to Burma, and India, and. _-Egypt, and England) described him as the administrative assistant to the Director of the Office of Strategic Services ” Which meant that he was going to travel with the Colonel to all those places and take care of whatever he needed taken care of That sure beat what for most of his adult life had been his great ambition, to be the ranking chief on a Yangtze River gunboat Naturally, there had to be a price to pay for this beyond making life a little easier for the Colonel when he could arrange it–beyond even putting himself between the Colonel and whoever meant the Colonel harm–but he was prepared to pay that What exactly that price was going to be, Ellis didn’t know When he got the bill, he’d pay it And in the meantime, if the Colonel wanted eggs sunny side up before they got on the plane to go around the world, that’s what the Colonel would get Eant Arinstoad Xir Corps Stdios 3 November 1942 While he was in Cairo, Colonel William Donovan sent a courier ahead to London bearing material he did not wish to entrust to ordinary channels Among this material was a personal message to David Bruce, Chief of the OSS London station, explaining that he would be leaving Cairo in the next few days After that he planned to spend a day in Algiers and another day in Casablanca–“to see things for myseleFrom there he would fly on to London In addition to the Casablanca station chief, two familiar faces were waiting for Donovan and Ellis at the Casablanca airfield They were Richard Canidy and James M B Whittaker Both men were in their mid-twenties and close to the same height–about six feet–and good looking enough to turn most girlss heads in their direction End of resemblance Canidy was heavy of shoulder and large of bone, Irish dark-eyed and dark-haired, while Whittaker was pale blond and slender, with leopard-like moves Canidy and Whittaker had been close since they were schoolboys Canidy was one of Donovan’s more recent acquisitions, but Donovan had known Jimmy Whittaker since he had worn diapers Whittaker’s uncle, Chesley Haywood Whittaker, a Harvardand MIT-trained engineer who had built railroads, dams, and power-generating systems around the world, had been a great friend of Donovan’s all of his life Before the war began, it had been Donovan’s intention to make Chesty Whittaker his deputy But on Pearl Harbor Day, while he was waiting at his Washington mansion for a summons to the White House, Chesty Whittaker had suffered a coronary embolism Canidy and Whittaker were readily recognizable as officer-pilots of the United States Army Air Corps Both were wearing pilots’ sunglasses and leather-brimmed caps whose crown stiffeners had been removed That way, the caps and an aircraft headset could be worn simultaneously Canidy wore a tropical worsted shirt, no tie, and olive-drab trousers He had on as well a garment officially described as Jacket, Horsehide, Flying, A-2 The golden oak leaves of a major were pinned to his epaulets, and a leather patch embossed with his name and the wings of the Chinese Air Corps was sewn to the breast The entire back of the jacket had painted on it a representation of the flag of the Republic of China Below that was written a lengthy message in Chinese informing the people of that country that the wearer was engaged in fighting the Japanese invaders and that a reward, payable in gold, would be given for his safe transfer into the hands of any Official of Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shekxs Kuomintang government Before Pearl Harbor, Canidy had been a Flying Tiger, flying P40s in Burma and China for the American Volunteer Group He considered his jacket a lucky piece Whittaker was also wearing an A-2 jacket, but his was so new it still smelled of the tanning chemicals On it were embossed leather representations of a captain’s bars sewn to his epaulets, and to the breast was sewn a patch with a representation of Army Air Corps wings and his last name He was wearing pink trousers and a pink shirt And looked, Donovan thought, like a fighter pilot in a recruiting-service poster Canidy carried an issue 45 Colt automatic pistol in an issue holster on a web belt around his waist. Whittaker had a Model 1917 Colt. 45-caliberacp revolver jammed casually into his waistband under the A-2 jacket.