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i . . .”
“Where you refueled,” Souers instantly picked up his thought. “With orders to keep an eye out for a civilian Constellation coming from South America.”
“And they called Washington,” Mattingly added. “When they learned you had filed a nonstop flight plan to National.”
“And instead of calling me,” Souers concluded, “the FBI—probably J. Edgar himself—decided to meet the plane here.”
“Why?” General Tomlinson asked.
“J. Edgar is very good at turning any situation so that it shines a flattering light on the FBI,” Souers said.
He turned and walked back to Second Lieutenant Cronley.
“I have a message for you, son, from President Truman,” he said.
“Yes, sir?”
“Quote Well done unquote.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“The President also said he wants to see you. That won’t happen today, but when it does, I wouldn’t be surprised if he said you can replace your golden bar with a silver one. But . . .”
Souers stopped as a colonel in an olive drab uniform with Corps of Engineers insignia appeared in the doorway.
“Good morning, Broadhead,” General Tomlinson said. “Come in.”
“Good morning, sir.”
“Admiral Souers,” Tomlinson said, “this is Colonel Broadhead, who will take charge of the cargo.”
Souers nodded, and then asked of Cronley, “Where is it, son?”
“In the cargo hold, sir.”
“How hot is it?” Colonel Broadhead asked.
Commander Ford answered for him.
“There are six packages, Colonel. Each weighing a little over two hundred pounds. They’re roped so as to be manhandle-able. Each came with two lead blankets, each weighing about a hundred pounds. With the blankets off, my Geiger counter indicated significant, but not life-threatening, radiation within a two-hour period. With the lead blankets in place, the counter shows only insignificant radiation.”
“You are?” Broadhead asked.
Ford looked to Souers for permission to answer the question. Souers nodded, just perceptibly.
“Commander Richard Ford, sir.”
Broadhead then said, “Where did you first put the Geiger counter to it, Commander? On the submarine?”
“Colonel,” Souers snapped, “who told you anything about a submarine?”
“Admiral,” General Tomlinson put in, “Colonel Broadhead has worked for me in the Manhattan Project for three years. He has all the necessary security clearances.”
“That’s very nice, General,” Souers said unpleasantly. “But my question to the colonel with all the necessary security clearances was ‘Who said something—anything—to him about a submarine?’”
“Sir,” Broadhead said, “one of my duties at the Manhattan Project was to keep an eye on the German efforts in that area. I knew they had some uranium oxide—from the Belgian Congo—and I heard about the missing German U-boats. When I heard that the OSS was about to turn over to us a half ton of it that they’d acquired in Argentina, it seemed to me the most logical place for the OSS to have gotten it was from one of the missing U-boats.”
Souers went on: “And did you share this assumption of yours, Colonel, with a bunch of other colonels—all with the necessary security clearances—while you were sitting around having a beer?”
