They definitely looked better with regulation haircuts and clean-shaven faces, even though both were bobbing their heads up and down to the Latin beat emanating from the radio. «Okay, men, ’tenhut!» cried the Hawk, snapping off the radio while holding the wheel.
«Wot, loco man?» asked the astonished aide with less than all his teeth, sitting next to the window.
«That means ‘attention.’ You’re to pay attention to what I say.»
«Maybe better, man, you pay us some cash, huh?» said the aide sitting next to Mac.
«All in good time, Corporal—I’ve decided to make you each a corporal because I’m forced to place additional responsibilities on your basic assignments. Naturally, that calls for an upgrade in pay… Incidentally, for identification purposes, what’re your names?»
«I’m Desi Arnaz,» replied the aide by the window.
«So am I,» said his associate.
«Fair enough. D-One and D-Two, in that order. Now, listen up.»
«Up where?»
«Just listen. We’ve encountered complications from the enemy that will require some aggressive initiative on both your parts. You may have to separate so as to draw hostile personnel away from their posts, thus allowing the objective to be taken—»
«So far,» interrupted D-One, «I got the ‘required’ ’cause it’s used a lot in courtrooms, like ‘remanded.’ The rest, I’m not so sure.»
So the Hawk shifted to fluent Spanish, which he had learned as a young guerrilla leader in the Philippines fighting the Japanese. «¿Comprende?» he asked when he had finished.
«¡Absolutamente!» cried D-Two. «We cut up the chicken and spread around the pieces so we catch the big lousy fox!»
«Very good, Corporal. You learn that from one of your Latino revolutions?»
«No, señor. My mama used to read the noosurry stories when I was a liddle kid.»
«Wherever it comes from, grunt, use it… Now, this is what we’re going to do—Christ on a pogo stick! What the hell are you wearing on your collar?»
«What, man?» asked D-One, shaken by the Hawk’s sudden vocal explosion.
«You, too!» cried Hawkins. «Your shirts—the collars on your shirts … I didn’t see them before!»
«We didn’t have no ties on before, neither,» explained D-Two. «Chu give us dinero and to’ us to buy two black ties before we go into the big building with d’fancy elevator… Also, loco man, these h’ain’t our own shirts. A couple of bad gringos on motorcycles were very unfriendly to us outside a restaurant on the highway… We sold the motorcycles but we kept the shirts. Nice, huh?»
«You idiots! Those insignias are swastikas!»
«Waz that?»
«Pretty liddle things,» observed D-Two, fingering the black emblem of the Third Reich. «We got big fancy ones on the back—»
«Rip ’em off your collars, Corporals, and keep your goddamn tunics on.»
«Toon hocks?» D-One asked, bewildered.
«The jackets, your coats, your uniforms—keep them.» The Hawk stopped in midstatement as up ahead the Pinkus limousine slowed down and turned right into a side street; Mac did the same. «If Sam lives in this neighborhood, the boy’s sweeping floors, not filing briefs.» The neighborhood referred to was a short, dark block lined with small shops sandwiched between entrances to time-worn apartments above, bringing to mind those turn-of-the-century sections of large cities teeming with immigrants. All that was missing were pushcarts and peddlers and the sound of foreign tongues in abrasive counterpoint. The limousine glided into the curb fronting a fish market; Mac could not do the same, as there was no available parking space until the end of the block, at least a hundred feet away and barely seen. «I don’t like it,» said the Hawk.
«You no like what?» asked D-One.
«It could be an evasion maneuver.»
«Invasion?» cried D-Two, his eyes wide. «Hey, loco man, we no fight in no war, no revolución! We are peaceful malefactors, dat’s all.»
«Malefactors …?»
«They also use that lots a’ times in court,» clarified the uniform by the window. «Like ‘required’ and ‘remanded,’ you know?»
«No war and no revolution, son, just a cowardly, ungrateful malefactor whose escorts may have spotted us… You, D-One, I’m going to stop for a moment; you get out and look around that fish store—pretend you’re shopping for dinner—and stay in touch. There may be a back door, but it isn’t likely; they may even change clothes, but our target would swim in his convoy’s duds. Still, we can’t take chances. He’s in the hands of pros now, men, and we’ve got to show our calibers!»
«Does all dat tontería mean I should watch the tall guy in the picture?»
«That’s it, Corporal, and it’s not proper to question your superior’s direct orders with improper invective.»
«Dat’s beautifool!»
«Move!» yelled the Hawk, braking the car as D-One opened the door and got out, slamming it shut behind him. «You, D-Two,» continued Mac, shooting forward, «as soon as I park, I want you to cross the street and walk halfway back to that big vehicle and keep your eyes on it and the store. If anybody comes out in a hurry and gets into the limo or any car near it, let me know.»
«Isn’t dat what Desi-One is doin’, man?» asked D-Two, taking the walkie-talkie out of his pocket.
«He could be ambushed if the Eye-Corps is sharp enough, but I sort of doubt it. I generally stayed two vehicles behind the target-movable, so I don’t think they reconnoitered positive.»
«You talk funny, you know dat?»
«Into position!» ordered the Hawk, swerving into the parking space near the corner and instantly switching off the ignition. D-Two leaped out of the car, rounded the hood, and raced across the street with the alacrity of a seasoned point. «Not bad, caballero,» said Mac to himself, reaching into his shirt pocket for a cigar. «You’ve both got definite possibilities. Real noncom stature.»
And then there was a gentle tapping on the windshield. A policeman stood on the curbside, gesturing with his club. Momentarily confused, the Hawk looked across the street at the opposing empty space. Just before it was a sign: NO PARKING HERE TO CORNER.
Sam selected the slabs of scrod, thanked the Greek owner with his customary, if mispronounced, «Epharistó,» and was welcomed by a courteous «Parikala, Mr. Deveroo,» as he paid the bill. The two guards, their interest in fish minimal, were bored, and so they looked at the enlarged, faded, framed photographs of various Aegean islands on the wall, but with no interest whatsoever. Several other customers, seated at two white Formica tables and all speaking Greek, seemed more intent on conversing with one another than buying anything. They greeted two newcomers to the store, but not a third, a man in an oddly unidentifiable uniform who proceeded to walk to the rear counter, which was empty except for chopped ice, and kept peering over the top. Under the scrutiny of his observers, he then pulled a hand-held radio out of his pocket, raised it to his lips, and began to speak.