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“Surprising me not at all, two of my best WACs. I will miss them.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Anything else, Jim?”
“Sir, what happens to people who use SIGABA for a personal call?”
“It starts with castration with a rusty bayonet followed by a long recovery period in a Fort Leavenworth cell. Who do you want to call?”
“My father, sir.”
“Why?”
“Chief Schultz took Lieutenant Moriarty’s body from Washington to home. I’m sure he told my father what happened . . .”
“That whoever killed the lieutenant thought it was you he was whacking?”
“Yes, sir. And I want to assure him I’m all right.”
“Are you? Are you covering your ass, Jim? Somebody wants you dead.”
“I’m all right, sir.”
“Famous last words. Your father was a light colonel under Wild Bill Donovan in the First War, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Dunwiddie has SIGABA access, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have Dunwiddie place the call to Colonel Cronley.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fulda Operator?”
“Yes, sir, General?”
“Destroy the recording of my chat with Mr. Cronley, and when you break down the Dunwiddie–Colonel Cronley call, destroy that recording, too.”
“Yes, sir. Sir, I’ll have to make a report of doing that.”
“Yes, son, you will. You are required to. That report will end up in my in-basket. And when I read it, I will read a report of what I just told you to do. Ruminate on that, son.”
“Yes, sir.”
Before Cronley could say thank you, Greene ordered, “Break it down, Fulda.”
[FIVE]
“Fulda.”
“Dunwiddie, Chauncey. I need to speak to Lieutenant Colonel James D. Cronley Senior, in Midland, Texas.”
“Hold One.”
“Vint Hill.”
