“How are you, Commander?” Cole said, not bothering with the civility of a handshake.
It would have been a courtesy for Cole to extend his hand, despite their differences, but Edland recognized and accepted Cole’s reason for not doing so. There was no subtlety about the man; he either liked you or he didn’t and he didn’t waste any energy pretending one way or the other. He would have made a poor diplomat and an inept player in the politics that were an integral part of any naval officer’s advancement. “You have to get along to come along,” an elderly officer had informed Edland. He knew from his contact with Cole at the beginning of the war that it was often difficult for Cole to get along with anyone.
“Fine,” Edland said.
“I’m real happy for both of you,” the captain said, obviously angry that Edland had not bothered to tell him that he knew Cole. “Why don’t you two take it down to the conference room? I got a lot of work to do.”
Cole and Edland both came to attention and saluted Candelaria. The base commander returned the salute and waved them out the door.
A goddamned fag and a goddamned troublemaker. The Krauts can have them.
When they entered the deserted conference room, Edland closed the door behind them and set his briefcase on the desk.
“Still with ONI?” Cole asked, walking to the far end of the table. He couldn’t stand being close to Edland. Too many bad memories. Besides, he was wearing a tailored uniform and there weren’t any bags under his eyes and he didn’t move as if he hadn’t slept worth a damn in a month. He was staff, and Cole, who was line, distrusted staff with a passion. And then there was the other thing.
“Yes, I am,” Edland said, pulling several files from his briefcase. “Attached to Admiral McNamar’s staff.”
“Chairborne, huh?” Cole said, prodding Edland. His kind sat far away from danger and talked in broad theories and hyperbole. It was all very clean and pleasant where they lived, and the only time Cole saw them venture far from their comfortable perch is when they thought it necessary to explain carefully crafted opinions on strategy. He liked pushing these guys as much as he could. “You seem to relish that role.”
“Just so there’s no misunderstanding, why don’t you remember that you’re addressing a superior officer?”
“Yes, sir,” Cole said, the insolence hardening.
Edland laid the files on the table and unfolded a map of the Channel. “The Germans have developed a new type of E-boat,” he began. “It’s operating out of Le Havre, Boulogne, or Cherbourg, we’re not sure which…”
“That’s a surprise, sir,” Cole said, and then added: “The ‘we’re not sure’ part.”
Edland turned angrily. “All right, let’s get this out of the way right now. You want to blame me. Go ahead and blame me. Whether or not I’m at fault is irrelevant. This isn’t a thing that can be done now. This is something else, another place, another time. You’re in on it whether you like it or not. I need your boats.”
“Why don’t you get Buckley, sir?” Cole said. He wanted nothing to do with E-boats or Edland.
“He’s not available,” Edland said. “And even if he were I would have chosen you.”
Cole’s own anger flared and he fought to control himself. “Am I supposed to feel honored by that?”
“You’re supposed to follow orders, Cole,” Edland said.
Cole moved around the table and advanced on Edland. “I followed your orders once, sir,” he said bitterly. It was all a show and Cole knew it. Like a dog that was frightened — bark as long and as loud as you can and the fear would go away. Cole knew that Edland wasn’t the cause of his friend’s death, he was; but attacking Edland helped relieve the guilt that Cole felt. It was stupid and futile, but Cole had nothing else to fight his guilt with. It was illogical, but Cole knew that. If you don’t learn to keep your mouth shut, a friend of his commented, and keep that goddamned temper under control, you’re going to be the oldest lieutenant in the navy.
Edland refused to back down. “It was another place,” he said quietly, “another time.”
Cole glanced at the materials on the table and back to Edland. It was a truce. Tentative and hardly binding and fragile at best, but it was all that Cole’s pride would allow him.
“You look worn out,” Edland said.
Cole smiled, despite himself. “Maybe I ought to try another line of employment, sir.” He willed himself to relax. He could feel the tension in his arms and back and he knew that his nerves were close to snapping. He fought back the panic that Edland would see the same thing. He gave Edland a look that said: “Okay, talk.”
“There was an E-boat attack on an Allied convoy,” Edland began, and then told Cole all that he knew.
Cole listened skeptically to Edland as he detailed what information he had about E-boats traveling at 60 knots and the 6-inch guns; but it was only a brief skepticism, lacking depth and form, and offered as if it were perfunctory. Cole was intrigued.
Edland handed the report to Cole and waited while he read it.
Maybe it was because before this madness they were both scholars, although Cole admitted that he wasn’t much of one. Cole was a fighter with an imagination, a fluid mind that wrapped itself easily around unexpected turns in events. He would also not dismiss an idea out of hand because it did not fit the norm, because such a thing hadn’t happened before, because people said that it was impossible, or because the concept was too farfetched for those who traveled in conventional packs to understand. Cole was certainly not conventional.
Cole’s eyes traveled over the report, turning the pages, reading farther into the document. He was concentrating on the information that Edland had provided, dissecting it, examining it, making a decision. His eyes finally returned to Edland, wanting more.
“The only way to find out what we’re facing is to capture some E-boat crewmen. Or one of these boats,” Edland said.
“Capture?” Cole laughed. “My, aren’t you the optimist.”
“I know it’ll be a challenge but I believe it can be done.”
“Oh, do you? If we can get close enough without getting blown out of the water. They won’t wait for us to sneak up on them. Maybe we can get a prisoner, but I wouldn’t bet on getting a boat. They have teeth, you know.”
“Their radar is not as sophisticated as ours and some boats don’t carry any. We’ll have an advantage because we can see them on radar before they have us in sight.”
“I know all about E-boats, Commander, so don’t tell me my business,” Cole said. “They may not have radar but they can detect the impulses from ours, so that’s nearly as good.” Cole let the statement linger before he added the obvious. “But you really don’t know about these new boats, do you, sir? There may be some surprises on these super-boats of yours, you know.”
“These boats may have better radar than most,” Edland admitted. “Although I consider it unlikely. In any case, if we move quickly and disable them, I think we’ve got a fighting chance.”
“You’re right about that for sure,” Cole said. “There’ll be fighting all right. You know,” he added, dropping the report on the table, “you could just go in and bomb the pens. No muss, no fuss, no crazy schemes. No dead sailors.”
“I want one intact, now,” Edland said. “Not in pieces later on. It’s important for the war effort. If I can’t get a boat, I want prisoners.”