places. One to Florida, one to Massachusetts, one to Texas and one to the Coast. California.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Right. He could be wrong, he’s no genius, but I think he knows something we didn’t know. That’s why I tried to find some way to pull it off inside, when everything would be in one place. Once those trucks start off on separate roads—”
“Uh-huh.”
“But there’s a stretch of fifteen miles that they’ll all have to take. If they were going in a convoy all the way to Florida, we could pick our spot. But we can’t count on that.”
“So we have to hit them within fifteen miles of home.”
“It’s the only safe way. Unless you want to settle for one load.”
“The hell with that.” He fell silent, and I worked on my hamburger. Then he asked how certain I was that they would all leave the post at the same time. I told him I wasn’t certain, but it was the way I would do it if I were setting it up.
“Why? Makes them a sitting duck, doesn’t it?”
“Yes and no. Remember, they wouldn’t worry that someone would want all four trucks. They would just want to make sure that nothing happened to any of the trucks. And they would realize that the tight part is on the road leading south from the post. After that, on larger highways, they would have less to worry about. So that’s where they would want to use a convoy. In unity is strength, all of that.”
“You’ll have to confirm that.”
“I know.”
“And find out what kind of contact they’ll use. They may send some cars along to ride shotgun.”
“Or aerial surveillance.”
“Christ, I hope not. Ten thousand cubic feet, that’s more than I thought. We’ll need two very big trucks, won’t we?”
“Or a van. I have a few ideas, George.”
“Let’s hear them.”
I talked for a long time, and he listened, and again we worked together very well. He found a few holes in my approach, but they were not as bad as they might have been, and by the time he was ready to get on his plane I felt good about the way things were shaping up.
“Just stay on top of it for now,” he said. “When the MI boys show up, that’s when you’ll get more of an idea of specifics. They’ll be able to tell you just how the whole operation is going to be staged.”
“They’ll also check me out a lot harder than General Baldy Windy.”
“That’s no problem.”
“Oh?”
“Your Agency card is a real one, Paul. That’s the thing to remember. All they can do is ask the Agency if you really exist, and all the Agency can do is say no. But that’s what we always say regardless, and MI knows it. They can’t possibly poke a hole in your cover.”
“They might have my prints on file somewhere.”
“So? They’ll establish that your real name isn’t Lynch and that you have a good service record. So what? They’d get the same line if you really were an Agency man. Once the job’s pulled off you might be hot under your own name, but that’s a name and identity you got rid of long before you found your little island and went native. You hadn’t counted on being Paul Kavanagh again, I hope?”
“No.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“There isn’t any,” I agreed. “Have a good flight.”
That was the 30th of January, a Thursday. Saturday morning I was at my desk when the phone rang. It was the general’s secretary. Would I please report to the valiant leader at once?
There were two men in his office. They were both majors, unless their ranks were as spurious as my own. Gen. Winden was standing stiffly alongside his desk. “Well, well, well,” he said. “Mr. Richard John Lynch, may I present Maj. Philip Bourke and Maj. Lawrence O’Gara. Mr. Lynch is a civilian intelligence officer,” he told them, “and I’m sure the three of you gentlemen will have a great deal to talk about. Since the powers that be do not seem to feel that Fort Joshua Tree is capable of handling its own affairs, I’m reassured to know that three
“Oh, shit.”
“Right. He could be wrong, he’s no genius, but I think he knows something we didn’t know. That’s why I tried to find some way to pull it off inside, when everything would be in one place. Once those trucks start off on separate roads—”
“Uh-huh.”
“But there’s a stretch of fifteen miles that they’ll all have to take. If they were going in a convoy all the way to Florida, we could pick our spot. But we can’t count on that.”
“So we have to hit them within fifteen miles of home.”
“It’s the only safe way. Unless you want to settle for one load.”
“The hell with that.” He fell silent, and I worked on my hamburger. Then he asked how certain I was that they would all leave the post at the same time. I told him I wasn’t certain, but it was the way I would do it if I were setting it up.
“Why? Makes them a sitting duck, doesn’t it?”
“Yes and no. Remember, they wouldn’t worry that someone would want all four trucks. They would just want to make sure that nothing happened to any of the trucks. And they would realize that the tight part is on the road leading south from the post. After that, on larger highways, they would have less to worry about. So that’s where they would want to use a convoy. In unity is strength, all of that.”
“You’ll have to confirm that.”
“I know.”
“And find out what kind of contact they’ll use. They may send some cars along to ride shotgun.”
“Or aerial surveillance.”
“Christ, I hope not. Ten thousand cubic feet, that’s more than I thought. We’ll need two very big trucks, won’t we?”
“Or a van. I have a few ideas, George.”
“Let’s hear them.”
I talked for a long time, and he listened, and again we worked together very well. He found a few holes in my approach, but they were not as bad as they might have been, and by the time he was ready to get on his plane I felt good about the way things were shaping up.
“Just stay on top of it for now,” he said. “When the MI boys show up, that’s when you’ll get more of an idea of specifics. They’ll be able to tell you just how the whole operation is going to be staged.”
“They’ll also check me out a lot harder than General Baldy Windy.”
“That’s no problem.”
“Oh?”
“Your Agency card is a real one, Paul. That’s the thing to remember. All they can do is ask the Agency if you really exist, and all the Agency can do is say no. But that’s what we always say regardless, and MI knows it. They can’t possibly poke a hole in your cover.”
“They might have my prints on file somewhere.”
“So? They’ll establish that your real name isn’t Lynch and that you have a good service record. So what? They’d get the same line if you really were an Agency man. Once the job’s pulled off you might be hot under your own name, but that’s a name and identity you got rid of long before you found your little island and went native. You hadn’t counted on being Paul Kavanagh again, I hope?”
“No.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“There isn’t any,” I agreed. “Have a good flight.”
That was the 30th of January, a Thursday. Saturday morning I was at my desk when the phone rang. It was the general’s secretary. Would I please report to the valiant leader at once?
There were two men in his office. They were both majors, unless their ranks were as spurious as my own. Gen. Winden was standing stiffly alongside his desk. “Well, well, well,” he said. “Mr. Richard John Lynch, may I present Maj. Philip Bourke and Maj. Lawrence O’Gara. Mr. Lynch is a civilian intelligence officer,” he told them, “and I’m sure the three of you gentlemen will have a great deal to talk about. Since the powers that be do not seem to feel that Fort Joshua Tree is capable of handling its own affairs, I’m reassured to know that three
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