"For example?"
"The first time I ran into McCoy, sir, I was in intelli-gence in the 4th Marines in Shanghai, and he was a machine-gun section leader in one of the companies. I knew of his reputation there."
"Which was?"
"Sir, I... uh... I'm a bit reluctant, under the circum-stances..."
"This is just between you and me, Macklin. Let's have it."
"He was known as `the Killer,' sir. He got into a knife fight-a drunken brawl, as I understand it-with some Italian Marines, and killed one of them. I was surprised that he wasn't court-martialed for that, and even more sur-prised when I was an instructor at the Officer Candidate School at Quantico, when McCoy showed up there."
"I see."
"At the time, knowing what kind of a man he was, I rec-ommended that he be dropped from the officer training program. I just didn't think he was officer material, sir."
"But he was commissioned anyway, despite your rec-ommendation?"
"Sir, the Corps was desperately short of officers at the time, scraping the bottom of the barrel. The Quantico ser-geant major, for example, was a sergeant major one day and a lieutenant colonel the next."
"Really? What was his name? Do you remember?"
"Yes, sir. Stecker. Jack NMI Stecker."
"You serve with McCoy anywhere else, Macklin?"
"When the OSS was formed, sir, there was a levy on the Corps for officers with intelligence experience in China. And/or who had some knowledge of Oriental languages. Both McCoy and I were assigned to the OSS. He had some smattering knowledge of Chinese, I believe."
"And that's how you came to understand his personal characteristics, his `payday-to-payday' philosophy of life?"
"Yes, sir. I suppose it is. May I ask-?"
Brewer put his hand up to silence him. "I hardly know where to begin, Major Macklin," he said. "Let me start with Brigadier General Jack NMI Stecker, holder of the Medal of Honor, under whom it was my priv-ilege to serve when he was special assistant to General Vandegrift, when he was Commandant of the Corps. You weren't suggesting, a moment ago, that he was something like Captain McCoy, someone who really shouldn't have been an officer in the first place, much less a lieutenant colonel and ultimately a brigadier general, were you?"
"No, sir. General Stecker was a fine Marine officer. But, if I may say so, he was sort of the exception to the rule."
"Not like McCoy, is what you're saying?"
"Not at all like McCoy, sir."
"Would you be interested to learn that whatever other problems Captain McCoy has at the moment, paying the rent is not one of them?"
"Sir?"
"I just came from Colonel Wade's office, Macklin, where I very much fear I left General Dawkins with the impres-sion that I don't know what's going on around here."
"Sir?"
"Both General Dawkins-who is obviously personally acquainted with Captain McCoy-and Colonel Wade- who had a somewhat different opinion from yours of Mc-Coy's service to the Corps even before we had a look at his records-are convinced the Corps is making a stupid mis-take in separating Captain McCoy from the service."
"I can only suggest, sir, that the general and the colonel are privy to information about Captain McCoy that I'm not."
"You didn't know that he was both wounded and deco-rated for valor when the Marine Raiders made the Makin Island raid?"
"That never came to my attention, sir."
"Did it ever come to your attention that Captain McCoy was awarded the Victoria Cross by the Brits for his service to the Australian coastwatcher service?"
"No, sir, it did not."
"How about his award of the Distinguished Service Medal for his having established a weather station in the Gobi Desert in Japanese-occupied Manchuria?"
"No, sir."
"There are several possibilities here, Major," Colonel Brewer said, almost conversationally.
"Sir?"
"One of which is that you are the most stupid sonofabitch ever to wear the insignia of a Marine major. Among the others are that you are a lying sonofabitch with a per-sonal vendetta-for reasons I don't even want to think about-against Captain McCoy."
"Sir-"
"Shut your mouth, Major," Brewer snapped. "Until I make up my mind which it is, and what I'm going to do about it, you will report to the Headquarters Commandant for an indefinite period of temporary duty. I don't know what else he will have you doing, but you will start by inventorying every company supply room on the base. You are dismissed, Major."
[SEVEN]
THE DIRECTOR'S OFFICE
EAST BUILDING, THE CIA COMPLEX
2430 E STREET
WASHINGTON, D.C.
0930 9 JUNE 1950
"The Director will see you now, Senator," the executive as-sistant to the Director of the CIA said, and held open the door to an inner office.
Senator Richardson K. Fowler and Fleming Pickering rose from a dark green leather couch and walked toward the office.
Rear Admiral Roscoe Hillenkoetter, a tall, imposing, silver-haired man, came from around his desk with his hand extended.
"Sorry to have kept you waiting, Senator," he said.
Pickering and Fowler had been in the outer office no more than three minutes.
In holders behind the admiral's desk were three flags: the national colors, the CIA flag, and a blue flag with the two stars of a rear admiral.
"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, Admi-ral," Fowler said.
"Anytime, Senator, you know that," Hillenkoetter said, and extended his hand to Pickering.
`This is my very good friend, Fleming Pickering," Fowler said.
"How do you do, sir?" Hillenkoetter said. "What is it they say, `any friend of...' ? I'm trying to place the name."
"I'm chairman of the board of Pacific and Far East Ship-ping," Pickering said.
That, too, rings a bell, but no prize. There's something else. What?
"First, let me offer coffee," Hillenkoetter said, "and then you can tell me how I can be of service."
A younger woman than the admiral's executive assistant appeared with a silver coffee service. There was silence as she served coffee. Pickering, Pickering, where have I heard that name be-fore?
Oh, yeah!
Pearl Harbor. Right after the attack. He was a reserve four-striper; Navy Secretary Knox's personal representa-tive. Abrasive bastard. Thought he knew everything, and didn't like anything the Navy was doing. Or had done. And after that, what?
He was in the OSS. He was the deputy director of the OSS for the Pacific. Or was he ? The OSS guy was a Marine brigadier, not a Navy captain.
Admiral Nimitz liked the OSS guy. Maybe there's two Pickerings-brothers, maybe. What is he after, a job? The young woman left the office. "You were the assistant director of the OSS in the Pa-cific," Hillenkoetter said. "Isn't that right, Mr. Pickering?"
"General Pickering was the assistant director for the Pa-cific," Fowler corrected him.
"Excuse me," Hillenkoetter said. "For the Pacific." "Yes, I was," Pickering said.
"General Pickering has just come from Tokyo," Fowler said.
"Is that so?"
"Admiral, before we go any further," Fowler said. "If you have a recorder operating, please turn it off."
"I beg your pardon?" Hillenkoetter asked, surprised and indignant.
"If you have a recorder operating," Fowler repeated, "please turn it off."