She grinned and winked. 'That's my man.'

Bradley released her hand when McArthur returned to the table, carrying three gla.s.ses of Scotch between his two hands. When they had taken their drinks from him, he sat down, sipped some Scotch, grinned at Bradley.

'So,' he said, 'you're with OSS.'

'Right.'

'You're working here with the British Secret Intelligence Service?'

'I wouldn't exactly call it working. I'm supposed to be trying to track down a renegade American scientist '

'Wilson.'

'Right. How did you know that?'

'I work for General Groves, director of the Manhattan atomic bomb project, and since we're also keen to track down the German scientists, we got in touch with OSS and found out about Wilson. Naturally we then found out, through your filed records, that Gladys had also known him, which is how I came to know Gladys.'

'Wilson appears to have a talent for introducing a lot of people to one another.'

McArthur grinned at that, then turned serious again. 'You want Wilson in particular?'

'Yes.'

'Any special reason?'

'I have reason to believe he's been working on projects far more advanced than the German rocket program.'

'And you think he might be trying to complete it in time to use it against the Allies?'

'I'm not too sure what his intentions are, but I sure in h.e.l.l want to find him.'

'So why aren't you in Europe?'

'According to my controller at SOE, I'm not allowed into Europe until the Germans have practically surrendered.'

'By which time Wilson, as well as a good many rocket scientists, might have disappeared or been captured by the Russians.'

'Or captured by the SOE, which is what my controller wants.'

'Lieutenant Colonel Wentworth-King?'

'Right.'

McArthur was amused. 'A regular British public schoolboy and pretty smart with it. Yes, he'll want the Brits to get there first. That's why he's holding you back.'

'Can you do anything for him, Ryan?' Gladys asked.

'Sure.' McArthur turned back to Bradley. 'On behalf of the director of the Manhattan atomic bomb project, I'm sending a bunch of ALSOS agents into Europe, to stick with the advancing Allied troops and go all the way with them into Germany. When I say stick with the advancing troops, I mean just that: The ALSOS agents will be with the fighting troops, right in the thick of it, to ensure that they're present when anyone of value to us, mainly scientists, is captured. Would you like to come with us?'

'd.a.m.ned right, I would, Major General.'

'Okay. In this matter I happen to overrule the bright son of a b.i.t.c.h, so I'll get in touch with Lieutenant Colonel Wentworth-King and tell him I'm grabbing you.'

'Terrific. When do we leave?'

'This Friday. Which gives you a couple of days to tidy up here. We'll be in touch tomorrow with details of our departure, but right now, since you two are obviously keen to be alone, I'm off in search of debauchery.' He stood up to take his leave. 'I'll see you on Friday, Bradley. As for you, Gladys, I'll see you when I see you.'

'In Paris.'

'Let's hope that's the case,' he replied, then touched his fingers to his peaked cap in a mock salute, grinned and then made his way out of the bar, through the packed, noisy revellers.

The drunks near the bar were now singing the maudlin 'We'll Meet Again,' made famous by the British forces' favourite lady, Vera Lynn, who certainly sang it much better. Yet the words, which Bradley already knew, struck straight to his heart.

Another lump came to his throat when he turned back to Gladys.