"In other words, the Chambers Publishing Company," Charity said.
"Uh-huh," Sarah said. "So you won't have to take in washing, will you?
What did you get from them for a wedding present?" Sarah did not want to tell Charity that there had been two large checks, from Ed's father and hers, "to help them get started." So she pretended not to have heard the question. "The story is that Ed and I were married secretly before he went off to the Flying Tigers," she said.
"I hope you can go along with that." Charity was not ready to give up.
"That got them off cheap, didn't it?" Charity asked, making it a statement If I let that go unanswered, Charity will decide that our parents are cheap, andlor that they disapprove of the marriage. "The Bitters wanted to give us a car," Sarah said, "but my father had already given us one."
"Hold out for a newspaper," Charity said.
"That would be a nice little nest egg in case the admiral misbehaves when the novelty wears off."
"Before he gets here, Charity," Sarah said sharply, "I want to ask you not to make fun of his being in the Navy. He's an Annapolis graduate, a career officer, and he might not understand you."
Somewhat to Sarah's surprise, Charity and Ed got along very well. They quickly came up with a half-dozen mutual acquaintances. Then, again surprising Sarah, Charity firmly insisted that Ed take Sarah to dinner while she baby-sat Joe. Ed even laughed heartily when Charity said that she had to "get in practice, if I'm to believe half of what Sarah says about your friend Doug lass." In the morning after Ed had gone off to work, they dressed Joe, took Sarah's 1941 Cadillac Fleetwood from the Willard garage, and drove to the airport.
"I think I should have told Ann to take a cab," Sarah said "This is nearly out of gas, and I don't have any more ration coupons."
"Then buy some on the black market," Charity said. "Oh, I couldn't do that," Sarah said.
"My God, Charity, my husband is a naval officer."
"What's that got to do with being out of gas?"
"If you can't figure that out, I certainly couldn't explain it to you," Sarah said coldly.
At the airport, Charity Hoc he went into the terminal to meet Ann while Sarah and the baby waited in the car. When Charity reappeared with Ann, there was a Marine officer Ann had picked up on the plane to carry her bags. "I promised the lieutenant we'd drive him into town," Ann said.
They drove back across the Potomac into Washington and dropped Ann's bag carrier at the Temporary Navy Department buildings across from the Smithsonian. "Now what?" Ann asked. "We go to Bolling Field to meet Doug Doug lass," Sarah said. "Praying that we don't run out of gas."
"Out of ration coupons?" Ann asked. "And, my God, don't suggest buying black-market gas," Charity said. "Sarah will turn you in as a Nazi agent," "Well, if it gets to push and shove," Ann said, "she'll just have to swallow her patriotism. I've got coupons for twenty gallons. "Where'd you get them? " "Journalism is an essential occupation," Ann said.
"I stole them from my city editor."
"You two may think you're clever," Sarah said, "but I don't."
"Amazing, isn't it," Ann said, "what marriage does to a girl? One moment she's making backseat whoopee with sailors, and the next she's delivering lectures on patriotic duty." I was about to say something I would have later regretted, Sarah thought. But these are my best friends in the world, Ann especially. "Sailor," Sarah said.
"Singular. One sailors" But I will not put black-market gas in this car, if we have to walk back to the hotel.
Getting into Bolling Field wasn't as easy as they'd expected. The captain they went to had orders that only journalists on his list-they'd hoped Ann's press card would see them waved through-were to be admitted.
But Ann finally charmed the captain into passing her in as a guest and not as a journalist.
There was a chain-link fence beside the base operations building, and Sarah pulled the Cadillac's nose against it. Then, because she had a Naval Dependent's ID card, Sarah went into base operations to ask what they knew about the arrival of an Air Corps plane from Selma, Alabama.
Very politely they told her they could not give out that information to her, dependent or not. "What do we want to know?" Charity asked when Sarah returned to the car and told them she hadn't been able to do any good. "The ETA of a P-38 inbound from Selma, Alabama," Ann furnished.
"The ETA of a P-38 inbound from Selma, Alabama," Charity parroted, obviously committing that to memory. Then she got out of the Cadillac and walked toward base operations. Five minutes later she was back.
"An Air Corps P-38, probably ours," she announced, "has called in extending his ETA by forty-five minutes. He should be on the ground in ten or fifteen minutes."
"How did you do that?" Sarah asked. "She kept brushing lint off her boobs," Ann said.
"Right?"
"That, too," Charity said.
"But I think what really got to him was the way I kept licking my lips.
" "You two are disgusting!" Sarah said. Five minutes later, there was unusual activity on the field. Two red fire engines, what looked like a water truck, an ambulance, and several pickup trucks, all with flashing red lights, raced across the field and stationed themselves on either side of the main runway. "I don't like the look of that," Ann said seriously. "What does this airplane we're looking for look like?"
Charity asked. "A P-3 8," Ann said.
"It has twin engines and a dual tail structure."
"Like that?" Charity asked, pointing. "Like that," Ann said. A P-38, its polished aluminum skin glistening in the bright sunlight, straightened up from a steep bank and lined up with the runway.
"One of its things isn't working," Charity said. "Engines, idiot," Ann snapped.
"He's coming in on one engine." The fire trucks and crash equipment proved to be unnecessary. The P38 touched down in a perfect three-point landing-a greaser, Ann thought-then turned off the runway.
It disappeared for a minute or two. But then, traded by one fire truck and several of the other vehicles, it reappeared on the taxiway right in front of them. A ground handler showed the pilot where to park.
The canopy was back and they could see the pilot clearly as he taxied into position. He was bareheaded and wearing sunglasses. Ten red-and white Japanese Meatballs and the legend "Major Doug Doug lass" were painted on the nose of the fuselage. "Now, there's a sight," Charity Hoc he said softly, "that would make the Virgin Mary, much less any red-blooded American fe male patriot say, this one-jump on her back and spread her knees."
"Charity!" Sarah said. Ann Chambers grinned.
"I think that's yours, Charity," she said.
"Say thank you to Sarah."
"Thank you, Sarah," Charity said. "I don't know you two," Sarah said, trying hard to suppress a smile. "I'm glad he didn't hear her," Ann said.
"But she's right, Sarah. Nature takes care of that, making the warriors powerfully attractive before they go off to get killed. She wants them to impregnate the maidens while they stiff can." Sarah looked at her, "Are you trying to say that's what you think happened to me?"
"If the shoe fits, Cinderella." Ann laughed. When she saw that Doug lass had shut the P-38 down and climbed down to the ground, she reached over and tapped the Cadillac's horn: Shave and a haircut, two bits. It caught Doug lass's attention, and after a moment's confusion he smiled, waved, and, ignoring the people who were now fussing over the engine that had faded, walked over to the fence. Ann stepped out of the car, then Charity, and finally Sarah, carrying Joe.
"You're Sarah," Doug Doug lass said.
"I've seen your picture." He now had a battered cap on the back of his head and was wearing a battered horsehide jacket on the front of which was painted the Flying THE SECRET WARRIORS 8 Ila Tiger insignia. On its back was a Chinese flag and an extensive legend in Chinese calligraphy.
"What happened out there?" Sarah asked.
"I blew a jug in my right fan," he said.
"That's why I was late. "What does that
mean?" Charity asked breathlessly.
"He lost a cylinder in the engine," Ann explained.
"And I know who you are, then," Doug lass said to Ann.
"You're the one with the stagger-wing Beech. Canidy told me about you."
" Guilty," Ann said.
I must be in love, she thought. All it took to get my heart thumping was to hear that sonofabitch has been talking about me. "And I'm Charity," Charity said, brushing lint off her sweater front and looking right into his eyes. "God, I hope so!" Doug lass said.
"Well, ladies, your welcome makes me feel like a conquering hero."
"That was the intention," Sarah said.
Doug lass took a close look at the baby.
"I hate to tell you this," he sai , "but he looks like his father."
"He's handsome, you mean," Sarah said.
Doug lass laughed.
"It'll take me a couple of minutes to do the paperwork about the blown jug," he said.
"I'll make it as quick as I can." It took him, in fact, closer to an hour.
"Sorry it took so long," he said when he finally appeared. "But there was a silver lining. The maintenance officer, his chin on his knees, just told me there's no way he can swap engines for me before the Fourth of July. Which means I can be here longer than I thought I could."
"Great," Sarah said.
"Would you mind driving? I think we could make it off the base easier if you did."
"Sure," he said, and slipped behind the wheel.
"Where's Eddie! "He had to work," Sarah said, "but he should be home by one o'clock."
"Where's your friend Canidy?" Ann asked. "God only knows," Doug lass said.
"He works for my father. Whatever they're doing, they're not supposed to talk about it, and they don't. When we find somewhere where there's a phone, I'll see if I can run him down."
Wonderful! Ann thought.
... They were well into the District before Doug lass happened to glance at the fuel gauge.
"Does the fuel gauge work?" he asked. Ann giggled. "If it does, we're running on the fumes," Doug lass went on. "Sarah's out of ration coupons," Ann said. "Well, we'll just have to get some on the black market," Doug lass said, "How does that fit in with your patriotism?"
Ann asked innocently. "What's running out of gas got to do with the patriotism?" Doug lass asked. Ann and Charity were now both giggling.
And then Doug lass suddenly pulled the car to a curb. "Don't tell me we're out of gas?" Ann asked. "Not yet," Doug lass said.
"Just almost. There's a cop. I'm going to ask him. "Ask him what?"
"Where I can get some gas," Doug lass said. He got out of the car and walked toward a policeman. In a minute, Doug lass was back behind the wheel. "There's a Shell station," he said.
"Second right, and then two blocks up on the left. He said he wasn't sure if they had coupons too, but he thought they did." Fifteen minutes later, the fuel gauge of the Cadillac indicated past full, and there was a sheet of ration coupons in the glove compartment. Sarah wasn't pleased, but she didn't say anything.
When they got to the Willard, Ed was already there, and Admiral Hawley was with him. "I didn't want to intrude on this reunion," the admiral said. "But I did want to meet you and shake your hand, Major Doug lass.
That was an incredible bit of flying you did when you picked Ed up."
With genuine modesty, Doug lass down played what he had done, but there was no question in anyone's mind, least of all Sarah's, that Doug Doug lass was a storybook hero. There were drinks. Then, without asking, Sarah called room service and ordered shrimp salads-it was too hot to eat anything else-and the THE SECRET WARRIORS 0 ITS women watched while Doug lass and Ed, using hand movements, explained the fine points of attacking a Japanese bomber formation in diving sweeps to the admiral.
It was nearly two-thirty before the admiral left. Ann decided it was time then to again bring up Dick Canidy-before Doug lass and Ed Bitter had more to drink. Doug lass settled himself comfortably on one of a pair of couches facing a low table that was in front of the fireplace.
After Charity had brought him another drink and Ann the telephone, he consulted a small pocket notebook for the number and dialed it. Ann moved close so that she could hear both ends of the conversation.
"Liberty 6-4133," a male voice said. "Captain Peter Doug lass, please," Doug lass said. "May I ask who's calling? " "This is Major Peter Doug lass, Jr.," Doug said. "Oh, sure, just a moment, Major, I'll ring."
"Captain Doug lass's office," a female voice said. "This is Major Doug lass. May I speak with my father, please?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Major, he's in conference. I could interrupt, but it would be better if you could call back in an hour." Damn! Ann thought.
In an hour he's either going to be drunk, or else in a closet somewhere with Charity, or both. "Miss Chenowith in there with him?"
"No, she's not."
"Could you switch me to her?" There were some clicking noises, and then another female voice came on the line. "Twenty-eight," she said.
"Cynthia, this is Doug Doug lass."
"Well, we've been expecting you, Major. How was the flight? I guess you need a ride. Where are you?"
"The flight was fine, thank you," he said.
"But what I need is Dick Canidy's phone number. My dad's holding yet another conference and won't be free for an hour."
"He's not here," Cynthia Chenowith said. "Where is he?" There was a perceptible hesitation before she replied.
"Actually, he's in New jersey."
"Will you give me the number, please?"
There was a longer hesitation before she finally gave him the number.
"When the switchboard answers, Major," she continued, "you ask if this is the Foster residence. Got that? Foster. Otherwise, they won't put you through."
"Foster residence," Doug lass parroted.
"Got it. Tell my father I'll catch up with him later."
"I will," she said. Doug lass broke the connection with his finger, then gave the operator the number Cynthia had given him. "As bury 4-9301," a male voice answered. "Is this the Foster residence?"
"Yes, it is," the male voice replied. "Can I get Dick Canidy on this?"
I'll ring the major for you," the man said. Canidy came on the line, answering with his name. "Early Bird Leader, this is Early Bird One," Doug lass said, "Early Bird" had been their plane-to-plane call sign in China.
Canidy laughed happily. "You bastard, where are you?"
"I am sitting here with Commander Bitter, no less, three good-looking ladies, gallons of booze, and a baby. The important question is, where the bell are you?"
"I'm sitting here up to my ass in fuel-consumption charts," Canidy said.
Ann became aware that her heart was beating; and when she put her fingers to her cheek, she confirmed that her face was flushed.
"Where's there?" There was a hesitation before Canidy answered. "On the seashore, near Lakehurst NAS," he said. "Well, drop whatever you're doing, get on a train, and come here before Bitter drinks all the booze."
"Christ, I wish I could, Doug," Canidy said. "But it's out of the question."
"Why is it out of the question?"
"I've got the duty."
"Over the whole god damned Fourth of July weekend?"
"Over the whole god damned Fourth of July weekend," Canidy confirmed.
"I'm really sorry, Doug. I just can't."
"Ah, shit!" Doug lass said, disappointed but understanding. "It would have been fun. Well, at least say hello to the commander and the girls."
He handed the telephone to Bitter. "What was that "Early Bird' business?" Charity asked. "That was our call sign in China," Doug lass said. "What's this story I heard about Canidy being sent home for cowardice?" Ann asked. "Bullshit is what it was," Doug lass said.
"They used that story to explain why he suddenly took off to work for my father. Christ, the first time out, he attacked-by himself-nine jap bombers and shot down five of them.
He was the first ace in the AVG."
Ann looked at Ed Bitter in triumph. Then she took the telephone from him, "Hello, Dick, how are you? This is Ann Chambers. Remember me?"
"What's a nice girl like you doing with those two?" Canidy replied.
"It's all right," she said.
"We have Sarah as a chaperone." Sarah took that as her cue to take the telephone. Ann gave it up willingly. Now that I finally had the chance to talk to him, I couldn't think of a damned thing to say. But by the time everybody, including Charity, had talked to Canidy and the phone was back in its usual place, she did have something to say. "I think I know where he is," she said.
W E B Griffin - Men at War 2 - Secret Warriors Page 20