"Boss, El Supremo never goes to the Imperial," McCoy interrupted. "Or anywhere else, either, really."
"So I read in Time," Pickering said. "Make the call, Pick."
"What the hell is going on?" Pick asked.
"Make the call, and then we'll bring you up to speed," Pickering said. "But for a quick answer, it seems like old times."
[TWO]
NO. 7 SAKU-TUN
DENENCHOFU, TOKYO, JATAN
1805 1 JUNE 1950
The Japanese housekeeper came into the room and said something in Japanese to Ernie Sage McCoy.
"Colonel Huff for you, Captain Pickering," Ernie trans-lated. "There's an extension by Ken's chair."
"Huff is calling to say that Supreme Commander and Mrs. MacArthur would much prefer that you come to the Embassy," Ken McCoy said.
"Probably," Fleming Pickering said, with a smile. He followed Pick to the telephone on the table beside Ken Mc-Coy's armchair.
Pick picked up the telephone.
"Captain Pickering," he said.
He held the phone away from his ear so that his father could overhear the conversation.
"This is Colonel Huff, Captain."
"How are you, Colonel?"
"Captain, I relayed General Pickering's invitation to the Supreme Commander. He asked me to get word to General Pickering that he and Mrs. MacArthur would much prefer that the general come to the Supreme Commander's quar-ters for cocktails and dinner. Is that going to pose a prob-lem for the General?"
"I'll have to ask him, Colonel. Would you please hold?"
It was not the reply Colonel Huff had expected. This was clear in his voice as he said, "Of course."
Pick covered the microphone with his hand, then whis-pered, "How long are we going to make him wait?"
"Sixty seconds," Fleming Pickering said, with a smile. "Sixty seconds is a very long time when you're hanging on a phone."
Pick put the telephone on his shoulder, holding it in place with his chin, and then pushed the button on his aviator's chronometer that caused the sweep second hand to start moving.
Sixty seconds seemed like a long time. Ernie Sage Mc-Coy shook her head and smiled at her husband.
Finally Pick took the telephone from his shoulder.
"That will be fine, Colonel. What time would General MacArthur like my father to be there?"
"The Supreme Commander's limousine will be at the Hotel Imperial at 1900. Would that be convenient?"
Fleming Pickering touched Pick's arm and shook his head, "no."
"Dad's not at the Imperial, Colonel."
"Oh?"
It was obviously a request for information. Pickering shook his head "no" again.
"And he has a car," Pick said. "I'm sure he would prefer to have it with him. I don't know what his schedule is after dinner, but I'm sure there will be something."
"The Embassy at 1930, then," Huff said. There was a tone of annoyance, slight but unmistakable, in his voice. "Would that be convenient?"
"If something comes up, Colonel, I'll call. But I feel sure Dad can meet that schedule."
"Thank you very much, Captain."
"Not at all, Colonel."
Pick hung the phone up.
"How'd I do?"
"You annoyed Huff. There will be a reward in heaven," Pickering said.
Ernie Sage McCoy, smiling, shook her head again.
The maid reappeared almost immediately, and delivered another message in Japanese.
"Another call for Captain Pickering," Ernie translated.
"I'll bet I know who that is, Ken," Fleming Pickering said, and when he had McCoy's attention, went on in a credible mockery of General Charles Willoughby's pro-nounced German accent: " `Ven der Supreme Commander says he vill send hiss limousine, Cheneral Pickering vill ride in der limousine, or I vill haf him shot!'"
McCoy chuckled.
Pick picked up the telephone.
"Captain Pickering," he said, then: "Oh, hello, Uncle Charley. What's up?"
There was a pause.
"Oh, hell, I thought you forgot about that. And there's no way I can get out of it?"
Another pause.
"Okay. I'll be right there. But see how short you can make it, okay? I want to have dinner with the guy who married my childhood sweetheart."
He chuckled and hung up.
"Charley Ansley says `Hi, Ernie,'" he said.
"And?" Ernie said.
"There's going to be a press conference, and the entire fu-ture of Trans-Global Airways depends on my being there."
"Why don't you take Ken and Ernie with you," Fleming Pickering said. "And then out to dinner."
He could tell from McCoy's face that he didn't want to go. And from Ernie's that she did.
"Honey?" she asked.
"Sure, why not?" McCoy said.
[THREE]
THE RESIDENCE OF THE SUPREME COMMANDER, ALLIED POWERS
TOKYO, JAPAN
1930 1 JUNE 1950
The two impeccably turned-out Army military policemen at the gate to what had been the U.S. Embassy compound and was now the residence of the Supreme Commander, Allied Powers, who had been at Parade Rest-standing stiffly erect, with the hands folded on the small of the back-came, very precisely and very slowly, to attention and very slowly raised their hands in salute as the 1941 Cadillac limousine approached the gate.
They held the salute until the gate opened and the lim-ousine passed through, before very slowly bringing their rigid hands down from the forward lip of their chromed steel helmets and returning to Parade Rest.
The motions were artificial, more like ballet movements than a military gesture-
Like, the passenger of the limousine thought, somewhat unkindly, like those clowns standing in front of Bucking-ham Palace in those comic opera bearskin hats.
What's that all about? Does El Supremo think he's the Mikado? They already have an emperor of Japan, I just drove past his palace.
Yeah, but the truth of the matter is, that ridiculous em-peror doesn't have any power, and this one, El Supremo, does.
He is the Supreme Commander, Allied Powers.
He sends for the Emperor-I saw that in the newspa-per-and the Emperor comes. Jesus Christ, Douglas MacArthur is the king of Japan.
Watch your temper, Fleming Pickering!
You`re here to help Killer McCoy, not to tell El Supremo what a pompous ass he is.
There were a second matched set of MPs standing at either side of the door of what had been the U.S. Ambassador's residence, and they, too, repeated the slow-motion salute as the limousine pulled up before the building and an offi-cer-a major in the regalia of an aide-de-camp-came quickly down the shallow flight of steps.
He pulled the passenger door open and stood at atten-tion.
"Good evening, General Pickering," he said. "The Supreme Commander expects you, sir. If you'll be good enough to come with me?"
"Thank you," Pickering said, got out of the limousine, and walked into the residence ahead of the major.
Colonel Stanley, who had come to the Imperial Hotel, was waiting for Pickering in the main corridor of the building.
"Good evening, General," he said, offering his hand. "The Supreme Commander and Mrs. MacArthur are in the library."
"Hello, Colonel," Pickering said.
Stanley pushed open double doors, stepped into the cen-ter of the opening, and announced: