Banning smiled back. "A question of priorities, Sir. I figured I could shave once I got this stuff on its way to you."

"Did you get to see General Vandegrift? Was he cooperative?"

"Cooperative, yes. But uncomfortable. He thought it was violating the chain of command."

"Couldn't be helped," Pickering said. "All right, let's have it."

"Christ, it's worse than I thought," Pickering said after Banning finished reporting Vandegrift's assessment of his situation, along with his own and the other code-breaker's analysis of Japanese intentions and capabilities.

"It's not a pretty picture, Sir."

"Goddamn it, we can't lose Guadalcanal!"

"We may have to consider that possibility, Sir."

Pickering exhaled audibly, then looked at Banning.

"I don't suppose you had a chance to see my son?"

"Yes, Sir. I spent a good deal of time with him. He was the copilot on the R4D."

"He was in on the operation? How did that happen? I didn't know he could fly an R4D."

"I think it was a question of the best man for the job, Sir. He was picked by the pilot, Sir. Jake Dillon was a little uncomfortable when he saw him at Port Moresby."

Major Banning had learned the real story behind Lieutenant Pickering's role as the R4D copilot: that Pick Pickering had almost gone over the edge after his buddy was terribly injured, and that Galloway ordered him into the plane for what could be accurately described as psychiatric therapy. But there was no point in telling his father this.

"I'll be damned," Pickering said.

"And the day before yesterday, he shot down another two Japanese planes. A Zero and a bomber. That makes eight. He's a fine young man, General."

"In a fighter squadron which is down to three airplanes, according to what you just told me. You ever hear of the laws of probability, Ed?"

"His squadron commander, Captain Galloway-the man who flew the R4D, a very experienced pilot-told me, Sir, that Pick is that rare bird, a natural aviator. He's good at what he does, Sir. Very good."

"Jack Stecker's boy is an ace, plus one. He was obviously pretty good at what he did, too. He's over at the hospital wrapped up like a mummy. They feed him and drain him with rubber tubes."

"I heard about that, Sir. McCoy saw Colonel Stecker on the 'Canal. You heard he was promoted?"

"I heard. Getting him promoted pitted Vandegrift and me against most of the rest of the officer corps," Pickering replied bitterly, adding: "Christ, Jack ought to be wearing this star, not me."

"You wear it very well, Sir," Banning said without thinking.

Pickering looked at him but did not reply.

"Speaking of McCoy... where are the others?"

"Probably in the air by now, Sir. I came ahead. I thought that was what you wanted. I bumped a Navy captain from some admiral's private airplane."

Pickering chuckled. "Wagam. Rear Admiral. I know. I was in Nimitz's office when he reported back in. Complaining."

"I hope it wasn't awkward for you, Sir."

"Not for me. For him. He didn't know who I was. Just some Marine. When he was finished complaining about some Washington paper-pusher Marine running roughshod over CINCPAC procedures, Nimitz introduced him to me. 'Admiral,' Nimitz said, 'I don't believe you know General Pickering, do you?' "

Banning chuckled. "I didn't expect to see you here, either, General."

"I didn't expect to be here," Pickering said. "Dillon and company must be on the plane I'm waiting for."

"It's going on to Washington, Sir?"

"No. As soon as they service it, it's going to Australia."

"You're going to Australia, Sir?" Banning asked, surprised.

"Yes, I am," Pickering said, his tone making it clear that he wasn't happy about it.

"Then who's going to brief Secretary Knox?"

"You are," Pickering said. "You've got a seat on a Pan American clipper leaving here at 4:45. Which means we have to get you to the terminal by 3:45."

Banning looked uncomfortable.

"Ed, just give a repeat performance of what you did just now for me," Pickering went on. "Frank Knox puts on his pants like everybody does. Actually, I've grown to rather like him."

"Sir, my going to Washington is going to pose problems in Brisbane."

"About MAGIC, you mean? Pluto and Moore and Mrs. Feller should be able to handle it; they've been holding down the fort pretty well as it is, with all the time you've been spending in Townesville with the Coastwatchers."

Banning looked even more uncomfortable.

"All right, Ed, what is it?"

"Sir, between the three of us, we have been pretty much keeping Mrs. Feller out of things."

"You have? Obviously, you have a reason?"

"I am reluctant to get into this, Sir."

"That's pretty damned obvious. Out with it, Ed."

"General, I don't want to sound like a prude, but when we're dealing with intelligence at this level-at this level of sensitivity-people's personal lives are a factor. They have to be."

"What are you suggesting, Ed, that Ellen Feller is a secret drinker? For God's sake, she was a missionary!"

"She sleeps around, Sir."

"You know that for a fact? You have names?"

"General," Banning said, hesitated, and then plunged ahead. "I considered it my responsibility to make sure that you didn't leave any classified material in your quarters."

"I never did that!"

"Yes, Sir. You did."

"Jesus! You're serious about this, aren't you?"

"Yes, Sir. Sir, I arranged with the Army to keep Water Lily Cottage under security surveillance. They assigned agents of their Counterintelligence Corps to do so. They reported daily to me."

"What's that got to do with Mrs. Feller?"

"They were very thorough, Sir. They reported all activity within the Cottage. On a twenty-four-hour basis."

Now Pickering looked uncomfortable.

"Jesus," he said softly, and then he met Banning's eyes. "Ed, just because, in a moment of weakness, I got a little drunk and did something I'm certainly not proud of, that does not mean that Ellen Feller can't be trusted with classified information. Christ, it only happened once. Those things happen."