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makeup.
Jesus, what s the boss been up to? I can t believe he s been screwing this dame.
Gentlemen, Pickering said, I d like you to meet Mrs. Ellen Feller. She got in
last night from Pearl Harbor.
I would never have thought she was an American, Hon thought, and then revised his
opinion of her sexual desirability. Even the padded bathrobe could not conceal an
attractive breastworks, which was apparently unrestrained by a brassiere.
I still don t think he s been screwing her. But on the other hand, I was twenty before I
was willing to admit that my parents hadn t had me via immaculate conception.
Ellen Feller s smile, which accompanied the hand she gave Hon, was somewhat
the wrong side of being friendly and inviting.
Ellen and I go back pretty far, Pickering said. She was my secretary in
Washington.
We re old friends, Ellen Feller added, quietly demure. Then she turned to
Moore. I believe I know your father, she said. The Reverend John Wesley Moore,
isn t it? Of Missions?
Yes, Ma am, Moore said, visibly surprised.
Of what? Pickering asked.
Missions, Sir, Moore furnished. The William Barton Harris Methodist Episcopal
Special Missions to the Unchurched Foundation.
204 / W. E. B. Griffin
My husband and I were in China before the war, Mrs. Feller said, with the
Christian and Missionary Alliance. I met your father, and your mother, too, I believe,
in Hong Kong.
Ellen will be working with you, Pickering said, obviously impatient with
missionary auld lang syne. She s a damned good linguist, and a damned good
analyst, and more to the point, she s MAGIC cleared.
I ll be damned.
But then another thought struck him, It makes a lot of sense though.
The high-ups in the intermingled and confusing multiservice command structure
of communications intelligence had to send someone else with a MAGIC clearance
to MacArthur s headquarters. They didn t know that Pickering had brought Sergeant
John Marston Moore in on the most important secret of the war in the Pacific, which
meant they believed only two underlings, Hon himself and Major Ed Banning, even
knew what MAGIC was.
That made a total of four people in the Emperor s Court who were cleared to
read intercepted messages between the Japanese Imperial General Staff and Japanese
Naval Headquarters and units at sea: The American Emperor himself, of course;
MacArthur s G-2, newly promoted Brigadier General Charles M. Willoughby (who
to Hon s private amusement spoke with an unmistakable German accent); and
Banning and Hon.
Even taking very seriously the cliche that the more people in on a secret, the
greater the chance the secret will soon be out, it just didn t make sense not to send
at least one other person to Brisbane. For the most basic of reasons: If a Brisbane
bus ran over Lieutenant Hon while Banning was up at Townesville, as he was most
of the time, and a hot MAGIC came in, it would not reach MacArthur or Willoughby
until Banning could fly down from Townesville to decrypt it for them.
As a practical matter, of course, Sergeant Moore would have filled in. Hon had
given him a crash course in operation of the cryptographic equipment, and he knew
what to do with MAGIC messages. But they didn t know that.
And so they sent someone else in; and not the kind of person Hon might have
expected a Navy Lieutenant Commander or an Army Signal Corps Lieutenant
Colonel, the rank a sop to the rank consciousness of MacArthur s headquarters,
where daily Hon was made to realize that a lowly lieutenant was of no consequence
whatsoever. Instead, they sent a civilian, and even more incredibly, a female civilian.
There was a chance for Ellen and me to talk last night, Pickering continued.
So it was fortunate that she came in when she did. I m sure everybody would have
been confused had she come in this afternoon. He stopped for a time to gather his
thoughts. Her coming, he went on after a moment, might cause us a few minor
problems. But let s deal with who s in charge first. Pluto, that s you. You re doing
a fine job, and there s no one better qualified. Unfortunately, you re a lowly first
lieutenant. I ve been punching pillows is what it feels like trying to get you
promoted to at least captain. For reasons that escape me, that has so far proven
impossible. I left word with Ed Banning that he is to continue trying.
That s very good of you, Sir, but&
Oh, bullshit& sorry, Ellen. Nonsense, Pluto. You re well deserving of promotion,
and we all know it. But anyway, you are outranked not only by Ed Banning, obvi-
ously, but by Ellen as well.
Sir?
What is it they said you are, Ellen?
An assimilated Oh Four, Captain.
Battleground / 205
You know what that means, Pluto? Pickering asked.
Yes, Sir. Mrs. Feller is entitled to the privileges of a major, Sir. Or a Navy lieu-
tenant commander.
OK. That may come in handy for billeting, or whatever. And I don t give a damn
who anyone at the Palace thinks is running things. But between you and Ellen, so
far as MAGIC is concerned, you re in charge, Pluto. I have also left word with Ed
Banning making that clear.
Yes, Sir.
You remain, Sergeant Moore, Pickering said, low man on the totem pole,
outranked by everybody.
Yes, Sir. I understand.
But since I suspect that moron at Headquarters Company will have you on a
guard roster the moment he hears I ve left, I want you to clear your things out of
that barracks and move in here. I had to take a six month s lease on this place, and
there s no sense letting it go to waste.
Yes, Sir.
Mrs. Feller will also be living here. I have assured her that you are a well-bred
gentleman who will not be bringing any wild Australian lasses home for drinking
parties late at night.
No, Sir.
There s only two bedrooms, Pluto, Pickering said. I m afraid you re stuck
with the Commerce Hotel. The important thing, I think, is to keep Moore out of
the hands of Headquarters Company without calling attention to him.
Absolutely, Sir, Hon said.
Take Mrs. Feller to the bank later today or tomorrow and see that she is author-
ized to draw on our account, Pickering said. And on that subject, Banning has
been spending a lot of money. I have asked for more, and it should be coming
quickly. If, however, one of the officer couriers does not bring you a check within
the next week, radio Haughton. The one thing I do not want to do is run out of
money for Banning and Feldt.
Yes, Sir.
Can you think of anything, Pluto? Or you, John?
No, Sir, Moore replied immediately.
No, Sir, Hon said, a moment later.
Ellen?
Credentials for me, Captain.
Oh, yeah. There s a Major Tourtillott who handles that sort of thing. Ellen needs
what you and Banning and Moore have. Anywhere in the building, at any time. If
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