As soon as the last passenger had entered, the pilot began to start the en-gines. Before all of them had started, the huge plane began to move. It disap-peared around a point of Ford's Island, but the sound of its engines could still be heard.
And then they changed pitch, as the pilot went to takeoff power.
When the Coronado next came into sight, it was airborne.
"Well, unless they threw Jake off when we couldn't see it, I guess they're on their way," Pickering observed. "Let's go, George." He looked at the j.g. "Good morning, Lieutenant."
"Good morning, Sir," the Lieutenant said.
Pickering slipped behind the wheel and drove back toward the passenger terminal. As they approached, another Navy officer appeared, this one in whites. He stood in the middle of the road and raised both arms.
"Uh-oh," Hart said softly, "another one."
Pickering slowed the car and when he reached the Navy officer stopped. Hart saw that the officer, who now saluted, was a commander, and that dan-gling from the shoulder of his white uniform was the silver cord of an aide to a flag officer.
"Good morning, Sir. You are General Pickering, Sir?"
"That's right. What can I do for you, Commander?"
"Admiral Nimitz's compliments, Sir. The Admiral would be most grateful if you would speak with him, Sir. There's a telephone inside."
"Certainly. I'll park the car."
Admiral Chester W. Nimitz was Commander-in-Chief, Pacific.
Hart followed Pickering back into the passenger terminal, where the aide waited, holding open the door to an office.
"This way, please, General," the aide said, and then made it quite plain with the expression on his face that Hart should remain outside. Hart ignored him. He was under orders to go everywhere that General Pickering went ex-cept, Colonel Rickabee had said, into a stall in a head, in which case he was supposed to wait where he could keep an eye on the door.
The aide dialed a number from memory.
"Admiral," he said. "Commander Ussery. Would you please inform CINCPAC I have General Pickering on the line?"
He handed Pickering the telephone.
"Nimitz."
"Pickering, Sir. You wished to speak to me, Sir?"
"How's your health, Pickering?"
"I'm very well, thank you, Sir."
"I didn't expect to see you back here so soon."
"I didn't expect to be back so soon, Sir."
"I appreciate the film you sent me."
"I thought you would be interested, Sir."
"What's your schedule, Pickering?"
"I'm on the 1500 plane to Brisbane, Sir."
"Could you fit an hour or so for me into your schedule?"
"I'm at your disposal, Admiral."
"I think it would be best if you didn't come here," Nimitz said. "Are you free for lunch?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Somewhere private," Nimitz said. "Do you suppose we could meet... could I invite myself for lunch at your place?"
"I'd be honored, Sir."
"Noon," Nimitz said. "Would that be convenient?"
"Certainly, Sir."
"I'll make sure the Brisbane plane doesn't leave without you. Thank you, General."
The phone went dead in Pickering's ear.
Pickering looked at Sergeant Hart.
"Shine your shoes, George. CINCPAC is coming to lunch at Muku-Muku."
"Aye, aye, Sir."
Pickering looked at Commander Ussery.
"Would you like me to draw you a map, Commander?"
"That won't be necessary, Sir."
"Well, then, I suppose we'll see you at Muku-Muku at noon."
"Yes, Sir."
[THREE]
Muku-Muku
Oahu, Territory of Hawaii
1150 Hours 16 October 1942
The official vehicle of the Commander-in-Chief, Pacific, was a black 1941 Cadillac Model 62. There was no starred flag officer's plate; instead a blue flag with four silver stars flew from a staff mounted on the right front fender.
Sergeant George Hart was waiting for CINCPAC s arrival on the wide, shaded, flagstone porch of the rambling house overlooking the Pacific. He started down the stairs the moment he saw the car approaching, intending to salute, then open the rear door, then stand to attention while CINCPAC got out, then to close the door after him and follow him up the stairs.
By the time he reached the Cadillac, CINCPAC was already out of the car. Commander Ussery and the driver, a portly chief petty officer, quickly fol-lowed him. Hart noticed that the Chief had gotten no farther than the hood of the car before CINCPAC was walking toward him.
Hart saluted.
CINCPAC, a tall, silver-haired man in his fifties wearing a high-collared white uniform, returned the salute, smiling.
"Good afternoon, Sergeant," he said without breaking stride. "Would you be good enough to find the Commander and the Chief something to eat, and do what you can to keep them out of trouble?"
"Aye, aye, Sir," Hart said, as CINCPAC walked past him and up the stairs.
Brigadier General Pickering came onto the porch and saluted.
"Good afternoon, Sir. Welcome to Muku-Muku."
CINCPAC returned the salute, and then put out his hand.
"We gave ourselves an extra ten minutes in case we got lost," CINCPAC said. "I've only been here twice before, and that was a long time ago."
"Well, I'm glad you didn't get lost, Sir."
"You look well, Pickering," CINCPAC said. "Better than I would have expected."
"I'm fine, Sir."
"The way I heard it, the President pulled you out of a hospital bed."
"No, Sir, I was already out of the hospital."
The door to the house was opened by a silver-haired black man in a gray jacket.
"Welcome back to Muku-Muku, Admiral," he said. "I'm Denny. Do you remember me, Sir?"
"Indeed I do, but I'm surprised and flattered that you remembered I've been here before," CINCPAC said.
"May 22, 1939, as the guest of Captain Renner, Admiral," the black man said. "I checked the guest book."
"I don't suppose I could steal you away from General Pickering, could I, Denny?" CINCPAC said.
"Thank you, Sir, but no, thank you."
"Renner has the Pacific Princess now, doesn't he?" CINCPAC asked.
"It's the USS Millard G. Fillmore now," Pickering said. "I sold her to the Navy, which was wise enough to hire Renner away from me for the duration to skipper her."
"What can we offer the Admiral to drink?" Denny asked.
"If I drink at lunch, I have a hard time staying awake in the afternoon," CINCPAC said. "Having said that, I think a light scotch would go down nicely, thank you very much."
"We're set for lunch on the terrace," Denny said. "If you'll follow me, please?"
He led the way through the luxuriously furnished house to the terrace, on the seaward side of the house. CINCPAC walked to the edge of the terrace and looked down the steep, lush slope. At its end, five hundred yards away, large waves crashed onto a wide white sand beach.
"I've never been here in the daytime before," he said. "I missed that. It's beautiful."