He was only half-listening. He felt sweat starting under his armpits. If she was Railroad, she was probably part of the Town Point shooting incident. That group had been armed. If there were others with her, all armed —
"Slow down," he said as Roberts looked back for guidance. "I want to roll in slowly, as if for a visit." He reached for the mike again. "All units — cut those damned sirens!"
He held Roberts on a side street until the troop leaders reported their men in position. When the word came he checked his pistol and stepped out into the street.
"I'm comin' with you, Aubrey."
"Better stay here, Earl. If they're armed—"
"Then you'll need someone backin' you up." Sawyer patted his own gun. "Le's go, Quid."
When Chicken opened the door she looked surprised. "Why, gentlemen, you're here in midday! We have special rates till three. Who—"
"Vyry Lewis. She here?" he snapped.
"Vyry. She's the one you're sweet on, isn't she? And the colonel?" Mrs. Rosen smiled. "He likes the white meat, doesn't he? Come on in."
Quidley, sweating, nodded to Sawyer to close the door. He took the madam's pale plump arm. "Look, Mrs. Rosen, there's been trouble. I'm sure you're not mixed up in it, but we've got to arrest Lewis."
"Oh, but she's not here. It's trouble you say? Oh! I never knew anything, you understand — but no, Vyry's not up there. She's not been in at all today. I don't know why."
"Better search," said Sawyer.
Quidley nodded. "Come with us," he said to the madam. Looking nervous, she followed them up to the second floor. He heard creaking, coital moans through tbe thin walls. He paused outside the door to Number 10 and listened. He put his hand on the knob and twisted it.
There was no one in the room. His nostrils caught a faint familiar scent of her. He turned, to find himself staring down the cavernous muzzle of Sawyer's drawn and cocked .455.
"Earl — you're pointing that thing—"
"Sorry." Sawyer let down the hammer and holstered the pistol and stepped back into the hall. "Looks like we done missed her."
"Where does she live, Mrs. Rosen?"
"I think — it's a West Main address — yes, I remember, 1228 Church Street."
"She'll be gone," said Sawyer. "She got wise to you, Aubrey. That's why she ain't in today. There won't be nobody at her apartment either."
"Got to check," he said, but he knew Sawyer was probably right. Still, she might have left some clue, some piece of evidence by which they might track her. Anything to take him off the hook with Norris. "Call me at Port Security, 4-4108, immediately if she comes in," he said to the madam. "Earl, let's go."
The column proceeded east at a lower speed; the streets were narrower in this part of town, and he didn't envy soldiers riding in half-tracks over cobblestones. As the buildings grew more dilapidated the faces that turned to follow them became more and more those of CEs. "Nice neighborhood," said Sawyer. "You come calling on her here?"
"No."
"There's 1201."
"Roberts, stop here."
The 1200 block was a patient queue of flaking tenements. Colored women and many children stared from concrete stoops at the big gray car and the two officers. When the half-tracks rumbled up they all disappeared indoors.
"There it is," said Sawyer.
They climbed rickety stairs, gummy with dirt, hot, and humming with flies, and were confronted at the top by a torn screen door. It was ajar. Sawyer took out his pistol again and he did the same. The buzzing of the flies seemed very loud. He pulled the screen open and stepped inside.
They went through the three rooms quickly, guns drawn. Quidley swallowed. He'd never been in a CE's home before. He had no idea such squalor existed.
"Look here," Sawyer said from the bedroom. "Bloodstains on this sheet. And looks like these rags was used for bandages."
"Turner."
"What?"
But he didn't explain. Only now was he thinking: He's Railroad too. He was wounded by the police Wednesday. I had him in my hands — and she tricked me. Lied to me. He kicked viciously at a little pine nightstand. What a fool he'd played. He had been manipulated, used, and then discarded.
"She's gone, Aubrey. They any other place we can look?"
"No."
"Call the boys off?"
"Yes. Send them back." He took a deep breath, fighting his disappointment and anger.
"Burn it?"
"What, Earl?"
The other man had his lighter out and was kicking the sheets to the floor. "Burn the building. Hell, the whole block. Teach them to harbor Railroad terrorists."
"No. No, that's not necessary." He looked slowly around the apartment. "I didn't know they had to live like this."
"Had to?" Sawyer looked at the lighter, then shrugged and pocketed it. "It's natural for them, Major. They don't need no better, don't want no better. My people down Mississip, they're not your rich aristocrat types. They lived cheek by jowl with nigras for generations. They're just a little better'n animals."
The day before, he thought, I would have sneered at this man as a cracker, as a typical redneck who never outgrew his poor-white upbringing. But now he was not so sure. Of this… of himself… of anything.
From the street outside came the racket of departing motorcycles. "Come on, Quid," said Sawyer. "We'd best get back."
At five precisely Norris entered, bouncing in the way short men sometimes do. Quidley saw him first. "Atten — hut!"
"Seats, please, gentlemen."
The general looked around the table. "Channing — Sawyer — a new face, you'd be Captain McLaws of Shenandoah, correct? Thank you for coming over on such short notice. Quidley — Chief Haile — all the rest, yes. Good of you all to come." He paused dramatically. "Since there are only a few of us, I'm going to just spread things out on the table here. Now," he glared around, "This is all secret. Do you understand this? None of you will discuss it with anyone but his immediate subordinates until the moment comes to act."
He nodded with the others. Norris continued. "I've been informed that the President McClellan sailed from New Jersey on the twentieth, on schedule. Our original timetable should then be good."
"It is," said Channing. "She was sighted this morning by one of our submersibles."
"We can assume then that the Yankees haven't got wind yet of our intentions. Captain McLaws, will you and the Macon be ready tonight?"
"We're ready now. Fueled and armed. The marine boarding crew is reporting aboard."
"Excellent." Norris looked at Quidley. "Because of certain breakdowns of security on the original plan, changes have become necessary. I've decided, in consultation with Sir Leigh, Commander Channing, and Admiral Dennis, to make the assault by air.
"Yes, by zep. Don't look so surprised, gentlemen. Granted, it's never been done before, but that gives us the advantage of surprise. The Yankees are not an imaginative people. They need time to react.
"They won't have it. Macon and Shenandoah will leave their masts at midnight. Shenandoah will carry a Confederate Marine boarding party. They have been briefed and exercised in secret. The zeps' course will take them out to sea and then due north, to a position, at two A.M., ten nautical miles northeast of the President McClellan.
"Boarding will be a split-second operation. Prime objective for three men, armed with grenades and submachine guns, will be the radio room. Five will head for the bridge, three for the belowdecks cargo areas, two for the engine spaces. All will be in blackface."