McCarthy sagged. The president had all but told him that the western provinces were indeed going to secede and that he approved. Worse, there was absolutely nothing that could be done about it.
Roosevelt continued. "As long as you continue to tolerate the existence of the Nazi swine in your country, you will pay for your actions."
"But we fear for our soldiers."
FDR laughed harshly. "And well you should, but you will continue to fear for all eternity. What on earth behooves you to believe that the Nazis will even think of releasing your boys from hostage while there is any further advantage to Hitler? They will squeeze everything out of you. I don't believe you will see your boys again in this century."
"We are also horrified at the thought of civilian casualties. What can you do to minimize them?"
Roosevelt sighed. This was the ugly part of reality. "The only thing I can suggest is that you evacuate your cities. A simple look at a map will show that Toronto, Hamilton, St. Catharines, Windsor, Sarnia, and others in southern Ontario will likely bear the brunt of the fighting. Once the Germans are pushed out of those places, they will likely starve unless they are reinforced and re-supplied from Germany. It is also possible that they will not let your people evacuate, thus making hostages of millions of Canadians."
McCarthy wiped his brow with a handkerchief. He was sweating profusely. "Sir, I can only hope that you will talk to your generals and ask them to do what they can."
An easy and empty promise, Roosevelt thought. "I will."
The Canadian ambassador pulled a sheet of note paper from his jacket pocket and handed it to the president. "Perhaps you can do something with this information."
"What is it?"
"It’s a shipping schedule."
Roosevelt looked at it and paled, quickly realizing its significance. If he acted on the information, it could mean a premature war with Germany and with the United States as the aggressor. If ignored, a large number of people would be condemned to a horrible captivity resulting in agonizing death. Ignoring the information would ultimately condemn him as being complicit in murder. He and the men around him no longer had any doubts as to what was going on in Auschwitz, Sobibor, and other so-called death camps.
He took the paper and put it in his jacket pocket. “Thank you, Mr. Ambassador,” he said with a forced smile.
McCarthy rose. “I know you will do what you can.”
Missy Downing finished her second glass of wine at almost the same time that Alicia did hers. It was the middle of the afternoon and both were beginning to feel the effects of the below-average but well chilled white table wine from the Finger Lakes region of New York. Use enough ice cubes, Missy said, and any bad wine tastes okay. There was a war on so French wines were rare and too pricey. They weren’t concerned about shocking anyone since they were in Missy’s house and Alicia planned to stay the night. The colonel was in Baltimore meeting with someone about something, and so was Tom. It was girl’s night out, or in, as Missy said laughing.
“So you think all men are pricks,” Missy asked with a smile.
“It’s been my experience, yes. Ever since I reached puberty and young boys discovered that I was a little bit attractive, I’ve had them all over me, sometimes literally. I’ve been pawed by classmates and chased by instructors. Someone told me that guys liked to take out girls who weren’t too pretty. They hoped the plain little girl would be so grateful for a date that she’d go to bed with them to thank them.”
“I hope your realize it’s a fate many women would relish.”
“Really? In high school swimming class I was cornered in the pool by a bunch of kids who stuffed me under water until my lungs ached and I thought I would drown. Then, when they let me up, I found that they’d pulled my swimsuit down to my knees and then they grabbed and pawed me all over, both the boys and the girls. Later, when I went to tell the dean of students, she pretty much said it was my fault and that I should let her console me. I let her take me to lunch and I was shocked when she put her hand on my leg and started moving up. Later, I found out she was a lesbian. Back then, I didn’t even know what a lesbian was. I’m still not totally certain how they have sex, although I suppose it’s orally and I didn’t know what that meant at the time.”
“I’m not totally certain either,” Missy laughed and poured them each another glass. “But you didn’t come here to tell me about that, did you? You already knew that men had two brains, one in their skulls and a larger and dominant one in their cocks.”
Alicia giggled and got serious. “Oh, yes. I wanted to talk to you about one of my girls who has a problem. You knew that I had administrative control over about twenty WACs and I recently found that one of them is pregnant.”
“Imagine that,” Missy said drily.
“Her name is Aggie Fanelli. She’s nineteen, short, slender, very pretty, and intelligent, and she says she was raped.”
Missy stiffened. “You’re kidding?”
“She made a foolish mistake. She was flattered by the attention she was getting from an older Englishman, one of the math wizards. His name is Langford Morris and he’s a Ph.D. from Oxford so she was totally impressed. She went to lunch at his place, he got her drunk, and the next thing she remembers is waking up naked in his bed. There was a note and twenty dollars on the dresser. In effect, he paid her like a whore.”
“What did she do?”
“First, she took a shower to scrub what she called the stink of him off her body. Then she tore his apartment to shreds and went back to her barracks. Later, when she found out she was pregnant, she came to me.”
“Has she spoken to him?”
“Yes, and he insists it not his. She insists he’s the only one she’s ever had sex with. I believe her, by the way.”
“Is she considering an abortion?”
“She’s Catholic, which also rules out keeping the baby. Her parents are immigrants and very strict, and she’s convinced that they would throw her out of the house. And don’t forget that abortions are illegal. Even so, I do know a doctor who would arrange for one.”
She decided not to tell Missy that Doctor Crain, the physician who had treated her after the shooting had said that he knew how to get one done, quietly and safely.
“What about an adoption?”
“Yes, if we can arrange a long term leave of absence or temporary duty at one of those mysterious places that takes care of unwed mothers. I think a couple of the girls I know have gone there.”
“Will the Brit pay for her bills?”
“I called him, more or less identified myself and asked him. He was vehemently, violently against anything that might acknowledge him as the father. No taking a blood test either, even though that would only rule him out as the father, not prove it was him. Turns out the bastard’s married.”
“What a shock!” Missy exclaimed sarcastically as she almost spilled her wine. “However, I do have friends and I’m sure we can arrange a leave or something and I know people who like to help young women in trouble. She’ll have her baby quietly and hopefully the child will be adopted.”
“Missy, there’s another issue. When I spoke to the Brit he told me not to tell anyone else or he’d go to the Germans and switch sides. He said he knows a lot of secrets that would change the course of the war. Of course, he was doubtless bragging, but one can’t be a hundred percent sure. I know a lot of things that are going on in Camp Washington, but I also know that there’s a lot I don’t know and that worries me about him. He has money problems and wants to get back to England. He regrets deciding to come to America. He pretty much told me that he now believes that the Nazis are going to be the ultimate winners.”