Dave Dawson at Casablanca

by Robert Sidney Bowen

  CHAPTER THREE

  _Silent Lips_

  "Well, I guess this is the parting of the ways, Captain," Agent Carterof the F.B.I. said as the taxicab rolled to a stop on front of a WarDepartment Building in Washington. "Hickson and I will keep the cab forthe ride over to the Bureau. Sorry we all missed an evening in New Yorktogether, but there'll come another day, I hope. Best of luck, you two.It's been nice knowing you."

  "Same thing, the other way around, sir," Dawson said as he shook handsand climbed out of the cab. "And thanks for the protection--or whateverit was supposed to be."

  Agent Carter laughed and raised a protesting hand.

  "Now let's not go into that again!" he said. "The answer is still that Idon't know. Maybe Colonel Welsh will tell you. We can't, because wesimply don't know. What's the matter, Captain Farmer?"

  Freddy was just straightening up after sticking his head back in throughthe cab door opening. He shrugged and grinned.

  "Just looking to see if you had your fingers crossed, sir, while yousaid that," he replied. "But I see you didn't, and so that's that. Well,cheerio, and good hunting, and all that sort of thing. Sorry I didn'tspeak to you sooner."

  "That's the kind of tough break we get in our kind of job," Agent Cartersaid, and made a flip wave with his hand. "So long, until we meetagain."

  "And let's hope that'll be soon!" Dawson called out as the cab rolledaway.

  The two air aces stood on the curb until the taxi turned the cornertoward Pennsylvania Avenue and was lost to view. Then they impulsivelyturned and looked at each other.

  "Swell fellows, those two," Dawson said. "Wish we could have had moretime together. I've always wanted to ask a real honest-to-goodnessF.B.I. man a few questions."

  "Then those two will never know how lucky they are," Freddy Farmer cameright back. "But speaking of questions--"

  "Check, and double-check!" Dawson echoed, and started across thesidewalk to the main entrance of the War Department Building. "Thesooner we ask them, the sooner we _may_ get an idea as to what the heckis going on."

  The door guard stopped them and requested identification papers. Theycomplied by producing their leave papers and the wire from ColonelWelsh. The guard referred to a book on his table desk, and nodded.

  "Third floor, Captain," he said, and gave them each a building pass thathad to be turned in when they left. "Room Three Twenty-Nine."

  The two youths nodded, returned the guard's salute, and headed for thestairway. The door of Room 329 was just like all the other doors on thatfloor except that it had "Colonel Welsh, Private" painted on the glass.Dawson rapped his knuckles on the glass, and immediately received thesummons to enter. Colonel Welsh, Chief of U. S. Armed ForcesIntelligence, was seated behind a huge desk that seemed to take up mostof the office. He was practically hidden behind a mass of papers, boundreports, and such, piled up all over the desk top.

  He glanced up, smiled, pushed back his chair, and rose to come aroundthe end of the desk.

  "Welcome to Washington again, you two," he said, and shook hands. "Anice flight down?"

  "Fine, sir," Dawson replied. "We had a couple of swell air companions,too. You in charge of the F.B.I. now, Colonel?"

  "F.B.I.? Me?" Colonel Welsh echoed. "Hardly! Not as long as J. EdgarHoover continues to run it so perfectly. But what do you mean?"

  Dawson stared hard at the senior officer, and then gave a little sigh.

  "Oh, so it's like that, eh?" he murmured. "I thought that maybe youmight have had something to do with the two F.B.I. agents who trailedFreddy and me all over New York. I suppose you didn't?"

  Colonel Welsh didn't reply at once. He motioned them to chairs and thenreseated himself at his desk.

  "No, not directly," he said in reply to Dawson's question. "But ofcourse I knew all about it. So you spotted them, eh?"

  "Freddy did," Dawson replied. "I didn't, because _I_ have a clearconscience. We--or Freddy, I mean--called the turn on one of them. He'fessed up and introduced us to his partner. Naturally, we askedquestions, but they didn't, or wouldn't, admit they knew what it was allabout."

  "If you'll only explain, sir," Freddy Farmer chimed in, "maybe I'll beable to sleep tonight."

  "Of course I'll explain, Farmer," the Colonel said with a smile. "As forsleeping tonight, I wouldn't count on it, if I were you. Those F.B.I.men were following you around simply to see if anybody _else_ wasfollowing you around, that's all."

  "That's _all_?" Dawson echoed. "Who else would be following us around?And why, for cat's sake? Don't tell me, Colonel, that you really believesome Axis agent might try to get in a bit of personal revenge justbecause Freddy and I have been lucky on a couple of things! Why,that's--"

  "No, that wasn't the idea," the Chief of Intelligence interruptedquietly. "Though I have had that fear more than once. Your being lucky acouple of times, as you so wrongly call it, was most disheartening tocertain Japs and certain Nazis, who have long memories. But this recentF.B.I. business was a bit different. I'm not going to give you details,because I'm pledged to utmost secrecy. So don't waste breath askingquestions. This much, though, I can tell you. A list of names, compiledby the War Department, was recently turned over to the F.B.I. Your nameswere on that list, and you've been watched over by F.B.I. men eversince. The reason, as I said, was to see if anybody was following you."

  "You mean, sir--" Dawson frowned and hesitated. "You mean--because ifthey were, it would indicate that the mysterious list of names wasn't assecret as it was supposed to be? That it, sir?"

  "That's it exactly, Dawson," the Colonel said. "Nice work to havefigured that out, too. That's right--that list is most secret. It hasthe President's approval, the Secret Service's approval, as well as theokay of the Army, Navy, and Air Forces. It is most secret, and it wasthe F.B.I.'s job to make absolutely sure by maintaining a constant checkon every man on that list. Now does that satisfy you?"

  "No, sir," Dawson said with a grin. Then with a shrug: "But you saidsomething about not wasting breath asking for details. However, I coulddo with a hint, if that's in order."

  "It isn't," the Colonel told him instantly. "For once it's my job toassign you to a certain mission without the right to tell you a thingabout it. You'll learn soon enough, and when you do, you'll realize whyI have to keep my lips silent. This I can and will tell you, though.It'll be a most pleasant mission, and you'll both get a tremendousthrill out of it."

  "Well, that's something, anyway," Dawson said. "I'm all for it, whateverit is."

  "Quite," Freddy Farmer echoed. Then, with an almost sly look at theColonel, he asked, "A mission in this country, sir?"

  "A mission that will take in several countries, Farmer," theIntelligence Chief replied. "And that _is_ the very last bit ofinformation I'm going to give you. Now just excuse me a couple ofminutes while I tend to some of this stuff. Then we'll get along out toBolling Field."

  "Bolling Field, sir?" Dave cried, and leaned forward.

  For all the good it did him, he might just as well have yelled at theman in the moon. Colonel Welsh seemed to forget that either Dawson orFarmer existed as he gave all his attention to the paper work on hisdesk.

  It was almost ten minutes later when he signed his name to the last ofthe papers, collected them, and slipped them into one of the deskdrawers which he locked with one of many keys he took from his pocket.

  "Sorry it took so long, boys," he said, and reached for his service cap."All done now, though. So let's go."

  The colonel led the way outside, locked his office door, and touchedDawson on the arm as the Yank air ace started along the corridor towardthe main stairway.

  "No, not that way, Dawson," he said, and pointed a finger the other way."We're still not taking any chances. Follow me, you two."

  Dawson and Farmer did just that. They came out into the Washington nightby a small rear door on the ground floor of the War Department Building.There was no guard there, and Colonel Welsh used another key from hisbunch to unlock the door. From the door they followed hi
m through ashadow-filled alley, down another one that crossed the first at rightangles, and finally out onto a narrow, poorly lighted street, where acar was parked in the deep shadows of some overhanging tree branches.

  "Jump in, you two," Colonel Welsh said, and opened the door. "I think wecan all sit in front. I'll be your pilot this time. But on four rubbertires, instead of wings."

  "What about our building passes, sir?" Freddy Farmer asked. "Won't theguard--"

  "I'll take care of that," the colonel said. "You can explain to him, ifyou want, when you come back."

  "Come back from where, sir?" Dawson asked before he could choke off thequestion.

  "From a lot of places, Dawson," Colonel Welsh said with a chuckle. "Froma lot of places. Now, hop in, and enjoy the ride."