"Yes, Sir."
Lieutenant Hideyori sat down, hastily consulted a mimeographed tele-phone book, dialed a number, spoke briefly with whoever answered, and then handed the telephone to Captain Saikaku.
"Captain Kuroshio is being called to the phone, Sir," he reported. Saikaku took the telephone and waited, an impatient look on his face, until Captain Kuroshio came on the line.
"This is Captain Saikaku of the Kempeitai," he announced. "Lieutenant Hideyori informs me you are in the process of repairing two trucks. These trucks are required for a Kempeitai operation. Required immediately. I want the necessary repairs to them begun immediately, and continued until the trucks are operating, if that means your mechanics work through the night. Do you understand me?"
He listened to the reply, and then hung up.
"As soon as the trucks are made available to you, Hideyori," he ordered, "I want them manned around the clock. The sooner we locate this station, the sooner we can shut it down."
"Yes, Sir."
"What is your opinion of the message? The code?"
"I don't know what you mean, Sir."
"How soon can I expect to know what message these people are sending?"
"Sir, I took the liberty of sending the message to the Signals Intelligence Branch in Manila, asking them to attempt to decrypt the message."
"You did this on your own authority?"
"Yes, Sir. I believed it to be the thing to do."
"You are to be commended on your initiative, Hideyori," Saikaku said.
"Thank you, Sir."
"Be so good as to inform the Signals Intelligence Branch that there is Kempeitai interest in this message."
"Yes, Sir."
"And inform them that as a suggestion to help in their decryption efforts-you better write this down, Hideyori-that the message may contain the words 'Fertig,"Brigadier,"General,' and 'U.S. Forces.' Fertig is a name. The other words may be abbreviated."
"I'm sure Signals Intelligence Branch will be pleased to have your sug-gestion, Sir."
"As soon as you have word on your trucks, or from Signals Intelligence, or of any development at all, inform me. Call my office, they will know where to locate me."
"Yes, Sir."
"What we have here, Hideyori, is a weed. If we pull it from the earth now, that will be the end of it. If it is allowed to grow, it will become an increasing nuisance."
"I understand, Sir."
"One final thing, Hideyori. Have your radio operators on the watch for messages addressed to MFS."
"I have already ordered that, Sir."
"Good," Saikaku said, then turned and walked out of Lieutenant Hide-yori's office.
[SEVEN]
Headquarters, U.S. Forces in the Philippines
Davao Oriental Province
Mindanao, Commonwealth of the Philippines
1815 Hours 10 October 1942
Lieutenant Ball heard through his earphones the sound of the carrier and then a string of dot and dashes.
His heart beating and with tears in his eyes, he wrote down the letters:
MFS KFS MFS KFS
LPORD GHDSG NGFGP JKOWR DKLHI WRHFS SUHIO SWERI LPORD GHDSG NGFGP JKOWR DKLHI WRHFS SUHIO SWERI KFS CLR KFS CLR
Prior to his attachment to Headquarters, USFIP, Ball had been a radio op-erator. He recognized the call sign of the answering station. "That's not Australia. It's a Navy Station. I think Hawaii." The message, when decoded, was brief:
STAND BY AT 0600 YOUR TIME
[EIGHT]
Lieutenant Ball erred in part. While KFS was indeed a Navy radio station, it was not in Hawaii, but rather at the U.S. Navy Base, Mare Island, near San Francisco.
And there the radio message had attracted the interest of a veteran chief radioman.
"What the hell is this, Chief?" nineteen-year-old Radioman Third Class Daniel J. Miller, USN, asked, handing it to Dugan. "It's been coming in every hour on the hour in the twenty-meter band. Since yesterday."
The Chief examined the message.
"Whatever it is," he said. "It was encoded on an old Model 94. That sec-ond code group means 'Emergency SOI' "
"What's a Model 94?"
"An old-time crypto machine. They don't use them anymore," the Chief said thoughtfully.
"Maybe the Japs captured one on Wake Island or someplace and are fucking with us."
"What's an emergency SOI?"
"It means you don't have a valid signal-operating instruction, so use the Emergency One," the Chief said absently, and then, thinking aloud, "And maybe they ain't."
"Maybe aren't what?"
"Fucking with us."
"Then what the hell is this?" Miller asked.
"I don't know," the Chief said. "But I'm going to find out."
He consulted a typewritten list of telephone numbers taped to the slide in his desk, found the number of the Communications Section of the Presidio of San Francisco Army Base, and dialed it.
"Commo, Sergeant Havell."
"Chief Dugan. Let me speak to Sergeant Piedwell."
"What can the Army do for the Navy?"
"You're always telling me what hot shits you doggies are."
"Statement of fact, Chief."
"If I was to send you something encrypted on a Model 94, could you work it?"
"If I had a Model 94,1 could. What's this?"
"You got one, or not?"
"Yeah, there's one in the vault. I saw it last week and wondered what the hell we were still doing with it."
"I'm going to send a fine young man named Miller over there with a mes-sage that needs decryption. Out of school, OK, Piedwell?"
"What kinda message?"
"Use the Emergency Code," Chief Dugan said. "Whoever sent this didn't have a valid SOI."
"What's this all about?"
"When I find out, I'll tell you. But in the meantime, just do it, and keep it under your hat, OK?"
"What the hell, why not?"
"Thanks, Piedwell."
Two hours later, Radioman Third Miller was back from the Presidio with a blank, sealed, business-size envelope. When Chief Dugan opened it, he found a single sheet of typewriter paper inside:
WE HAVE THE HOT POOP FROM THE HOT YANKS IN THE PHILS FERTIG BRIG GEN
Dugan handed it to Radioman Third Miller.
"What's this mean?" Miller asked.
"It could mean the Japs found a Model 94 and are fucking with us," Chief Dugan said. "And it could mean it's for real."
He refolded the sheet of paper and put it back in the envelope.
"The next time these people come on the air, send them 'Stand by at 0600 your time,' " Chief Dugan said, and stood up. "I'll be back as soon as I get back," he said.
"Where are you going, in case somebody asks?"
"I'm going to tell the Admiral how to run the war," Chief Dugan said.
"I mean, really."
"Chief petty officers never lie, son. Write that on the palm of your hand so you never forget it," Chief Dugan said, put on his jacket and hat, and left the radio room.
"Long time no see, Dugan," Rear Admiral F. Winston Bloomer, USN, said. "You can spell that either 'sss eee eee' or 'sss eee aaa.' Coffee?"