"I asked not to be disturbed," Donovan said, coldly angry. "Do I have to lock the door to keep from being interrupted? "

Just because you don't like yourself right now is no reason to jump all over her.

Capt. Dancy did not reply. White-faced, obviously hurt and angry, she marched to his desk, laid a TOP SECRET cover sheet on it, and marched back out of the office.

TOP SECRET.

OPERATIONAL IMMEDIATE.

FROM STATION VII.

TO OSS LONDON EYES ONLY BRUCE AND STEVENs.e.xLAX AND TINCAN ONE ALIVE AND WELL STATION VII STOP GOONEYBIRDING STATION VIII STOP WILL REQUIRE IMMEDIATE AIR TRANSPORTATION STATION VIII DASH LONDON SIX HUNGARIAN CRIMINALS AND REMAINS LT CMDR JOHN DOLAN STOPCANIDY.

It took Donovan a moment before he trusted his voice.

"I think, Joe," he said finally, handing him the message, "that you had better hold off on writing Lieutenant Darmstadter's family until we can get this sorted out."

As Kennedy read the message, Donovan added, "Let Chief Ellis see it when you're finished."

" 'Hungarian criminals'?" Kennedy asked. "Is that some kind of a code?"

"Not as far as I know," Donovan said.

"I wonder what happened to Dolan," Ellis said.

"You were friends, Ellis?" Donovan asked.

"Not really friends, friends," Ellis said. "Yeah, well, maybe. A couple of old sailors. I liked him."

The door opened again.

"Yes, Sir?" Capt. Helene Dancy asked.

"First, Helene, I'm sorry I jumped on you," Donovan said.

"That's perfectly all right, Sir," she said.

She's still mad.

"I think you had better message Wilkins, over my signature, and tell him to give Canidy whatever he wants when he gets there. You don't know what 'Hungarian criminals' means, do you?"

"No, Sir. I presumably do not have the Need-to-Know."

"Neither do I, apparently, Helene," Donovan said. He smiled at her, and finally she cracked and smiled back.

"In that case, Sir," she said. "I think we have to presume that Major Canidy, for reasons he will certainly explain to us, is going to have six Hungarian criminals with him."

Donovan chuckled.

"Will that be all, Colonel?"

"Lieutenant Kennedy has Commander Dolan's personal effects," Donovan said. "Will you see if you can come up with a next of kin name and address?"

"I've already inquired. Nothing yet. I'll keep trying. Anything else?"

"You might tell Ann Chambers that Canidy is on his way home. If you think she'd be interested."

4.

THE NATIONAL INSt.i.tUTES OF HEALTH BUILDING WASHINGTON, D.C. 1830 HOURS 24 FEBRUARY 1943.

Chief Ellis was tired, unshaven, and mussed. It had been almost forty hours before the ATC C-54 from London had touched down at Anacostia. But he had ignored Colonel Donovan's orders to "go home and get some sleep, there's nothing that won't wait until tomorrow."

There was always something that wouldn't wait.

"You look like s.h.i.t, Ellis," Staley greeted him.

"I feel like s.h.i.t," Ellis said. "How come you aren't all dressed up in new chief's blues?"

"Captain Dougla.s.s said he thought it would be nice if the Colonel made it official," Staley said.

"Yeah, h.e.l.l, why not?" Ellis said.

"But you done it, Ellis," Staley said. "Thank you."

"We old China Sailors got to stick together," Ellis said. "And you're at the age where you look silly in bell-bottoms."

He tossed his overcoat on a chair, pushed his cap back on his head, sat down at the desk, and slid the stack of cla.s.sified doc.u.ments in front of him.

"Anything interesting in here?"

"Yachtsman is alive and well," Staley said. "That came operational immediately from London yesterday. What's it mean?"

"It's d.a.m.ned good news," Ellis said. "You don't have to know why. The Colonel will be happy as h.e.l.l."

"Whittaker's ash.o.r.e in the Philippines," Staley said.

"We heard that," Ellis said.

"And the radio works," Staley said. "There's a whole bunch of messages from Fertig."

"And anything else?"

"Two things for you," Staley said uncomfortably. "I opened the telegram. I figured it might be important. It's on the bottom."

Ellis lifted the stack of cover sheets and found the Western Union telegram envelope.

WESTERN UNION TELEGRAM.

US GOVT WASHINGTON DC 4 PM FEB 23.

CHIEF PETTY OFFICER JOHN R. ELLIS.

C/O THE NATIONAL INSt.i.tUTES OF HEALTH.

WASHINGTON DCTHE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY REGRETS TO INFORM YOU THAT YOUR FRIEND LIEUT COMMANDER JOHN DOLAN USNR DIED FEBRUARY 21 WHILE ON OVERSEAS SERVICE. FULL DETAILS WILL BE FURNISHED TO YOU WHEN AVAILABLE. YOU WILL BE SHORTLY CONTACTED BY NAVY OFFICIALS WITH REGARD TO YOUR SURVIVORS BENEFITS.FRANK KNOX, JRSECRETARY OF THE NAVY.

"Jesus H. Christ!" Ellis said. "I guess he didn't have a family."

"It means you get the ten thousand insurance," Staley said.

Ellis gave him a look of disgust.

"There's a letter for you, too. Where the Western Union was."

The white envelope bore the neatly typewritten message, "To Be Delivered to Chief Ellis in the Event of My Demise. Lt. Commander J. B. Dolan, USNR."

Ellis tore it open. It was undated and short.

Dear Chief Ellis:It's my professional judgment that one of these Torpex-filled airplanes is going to sooner or later blow up with me in it.If you get this, I was right.No complaints. It's a lot better way to go than sitting around the Old Sailors' Home waiting for it.I have a cousin. I never could stand the sonofab.i.t.c.h.Unless I named you as my beneficiary, he would have gotten the insurance.Hoist one for me, if you think about it some time.Regards,John B. Dolan John B. Dolan Chief Aviation Pilot, USN, Retired (Temporary Lt. Commander, USNR) Ellis folded the letter and put it back in the envelope.

"What's it say?" Staley asked.

"I'm going to catch a shave and put on a fresh uniform," Ellis said. "Then I'm going to go to the Chiefs' Club at the Navy Yard and tie one on. You want to come along?"

Afterword.

Readers who have read others of my books may find this of interest.

I was privileged to know Wendell Fertig, and another reserve officer, commissioned in the Philippines as Fertig was, who also became a guerrilla, Major Ralph Fralick. Fralick and I were good friends. It was my sad honor to deliver his eulogy when he was buried in the National Cemetery in Pensacola.

I have always thought that the Army's refusal to promote Wendell Fertig above the rank of colonel was outrageous. He had more than thirty thousand men under arms, under his command, when the Army returned to Mindanao. Thirty thousand men is just about the strength of two divisions. Major generals command divisions. Three-star lieutenant generals command Army Corps, which are defined as tactical units consisting of two or more divisions.

If-as far as I'm concerned-Brigadier General Fertig felt any resentment that he had to take the stars from his epaulets and exchange them for the silver eagles of a colonel, once the war was won, he never let it show.

He was frequently seen at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, in the company of Colonel Arthur "Bull" Simon, lending his expertise to the training and doctrine of the Green Berets, and elsewhere around the Army, including Fort Rucker, Alabama, where his friend Colonel Jay D. Vanderpool was in charge of Combat Developments for Army Aviation.

I don't think the story of a bona fide and unquestioned hero like Wendell Fertig can be told too often, and I make no apologies for telling his story in both this book and in Behind the Lines. Behind the Lines. In this book, a fict.i.tious Army officer went ash.o.r.e on Mindanao from a submarine to establish contact with General Fertig. In In this book, a fict.i.tious Army officer went ash.o.r.e on Mindanao from a submarine to establish contact with General Fertig. In Behind the Lines, Behind the Lines, a fict.i.tious Marine officer did the same thing. a fict.i.tious Marine officer did the same thing.

When that book was published, I got a somewhat angry telephone call from the editor of the coincidentally t.i.tled Behind the Lines, Behind the Lines, which is sort of a professional magazine for Special Operations people. He asked what I had against Jay Vanderpool. I a.s.sured him I had nothing whatever against him; that I flattered myself to think we had been friends, and why the question? which is sort of a professional magazine for Special Operations people. He asked what I had against Jay Vanderpool. I a.s.sured him I had nothing whatever against him; that I flattered myself to think we had been friends, and why the question?

"You should have said something about him in your book."

"Why?"

"You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Jay Vanderpool was the guy they sent in by submarine to establish contract with Wendell Fertig."

No. I didn't know.

Sorry, Jay. If I had known, I d.a.m.ned well would have said something.

W.E.B. Griffin Buenos Aires, 18 July 1999