W E B Griffin – Men at War 4 – The Fighting Agents

“Perhaps Admiral Keene didn’t make himself clear,” CINCPAC said, a little sharply.

“The potential medical problems have been considered, and judged to be manageable.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lennox said.

“Captain Whittaker and Lieutenant Hammer, and the white hat, will come aboard the Drum at 0530,” COMSUBFORPAC said.

“Their gear will be loaded aboard between now and then.”

“Their gear, Sir?” Lennox asked.

“Their cameras and recording equipment and film,” COMSUBFORPAC said.

“And the rubber boats,” Captain Whittaker said.

“And their outboard motors.”

“We plan to inflate them when we’re at sea,” Greg Hammer offered, “for what we call long shots, location shots.”

“I don’t know where we’re going to find the room to store any rubber boats,” Lennox said.

“Perhaps,” CINCPAC said, “it might be a good idea for you, Lennox, to go aboard now and supervise the loading yourself.”

“Aye, aye, Sir,” Lennox said.

“Your permission to withdraw, Sir?”

“Granted,” CINCPAC said. He offered Lennox his hand.

“Good hunting, Commander.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Lennox said. He nodded at the others and walked out of the room.

“Good bunting”? Jesus H. Christ! How the hell can I hunt for anything with a couple of second-rate movie stars and a photographer on board?

What the fuck did I do to deserve this?

The admiral’s aide followed him back down the corridor and through the

living room and to the bar by the swimming pool, where Lennox ordered a double bourbon and drank it neat.

He looked the admiral’s aide in the eye.

“Have they lost their fucking minds, or what? If it’s so important to make a fucking movie, why not send a couple of photographer’s mates, submarine qualified photographer’s mates? Two fucking movie stars? It’s absolutely insane!”

“Yours not to reason why, Commander,” the aide said.

“Yours but to do and die–meanwhile being very courteous to your passengers. They have friends in high places.”

He was never to know how close he came to being decked by the captain of the USS Drum.

When the Plymouth dropped him off at the wharf where the Drum was tied up, there were half a dozen sailors staggering under the weight of small wooden boxes.

Lennox went aboard.

“What the hell is going on, Skipper?” the officer of the deck asked.

“We are taking two movie stars, plus a movie cameraman, with us,” Lennox said.

“What?”

“There are supposed to be rubber boats and outboard motors,” Lennox said, ignoring the question.

“I put two rubber boats with motors in the aft torpedo room,” the officer of the deck said.

“I don’t know how the hell anybody will be able to move in there. For sure, we won’t be able to load the tubes with the boats in there.”

“And the rest of their equipment?”

“That wasn’t so hard to store,” the officer of the deck said.

“There were a couple of boxes maybe five feet long. Everything else is in those little boxes.

They’re heavy as hell. What’s in them?”

“What does it say on the boxes?”

‘”Photographic Film. Do Not X-Ray.”” “Then, presumably, they contain motion picture film,” Lennox said.

“See the chief of the boat, and tell him we’ll have one more white hat with us. The movie stars will share bunks with the officers.”

“Aye, aye, Sir,” the officer of the deck said.

“May I ask which movie stars?”

“Greg Hammer is one of them,” Lennox said.

“The other is a guy named Whittaker. Never heard of him. An anonymous celebrity, so to speak.”

“I know Hammer,” the officer of the deck said.

“By the time this patrol is over, you will know him intimately,” Lennox said.

“Good night, Mr. Downey.”

“Good night, Skipper.”

[TWO]

Ford Island, Pearl Harbor Navy Yard Oahu, Territory of Hawaii

At five minutes to six, twenty-five minutes late, CINCPAC’s Cadillac limousine came onto the wharf. CINCPAC’s aide, the two movie stars, and the woman from Continental Studios were in the back, CINCPAC’s aide sitting on a jump seat. There was a very slight, bespectacled, very boyish-looking sailor in front with the driver.

The driver opened the door for them, and then, as they waved cheerfully at Lennox, the boyish-looking sailor took two small canvas bags from the trunk and carried them aboard.

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