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"What is important is that something might happen to Captain Fine, in which case you would go on the flight, "You've considered, I'm sure, the possibility that either one of us might bend the bird learning how to fly it?" Canidy asked dryly. "That was considered," Baker answered matter-of factly. "According to your records, both you and Captain Fine are rather good pilots. The chances are that there will be no damage to the aircraft. But in case something does happen, we have acquired another aircraft on standby, in case it is needed."
The next morning Canidy flew the D18S southwest across Virginia, with the Appalachian Mountains on his right wingtip, to Roanoke. There he turned more westerly, crossed the Appalachians, then the Alleghenies and the lower tip of West Virginia, and then set down at a small airport in Wheelwright, Kentucky, for coffee and a piss break. "Where are we?"
Baker asked as Canidy walked through the cabin. "Eastern Kentucky, a place called Wheelwright," Canidy said. Baker followed him out of the airplane and went into the terminal, a 140 a W.E.H. anarran small frame building with a sign on it advertising flying lessons for five dollars, Canidy watched as the tanks were topped off, checked the oil, signed a U.S. government purchase order for the gas, and then went to the foul-smelling men's room.
Baker was waiting for him outside the small building.
"Let's stretch our legs," he said, gesturing down the single dirt-and pebble runway.
They had walked half its length when Baker touched his sleeve. "This is far enough."
No one, Canidy thought, could possibly overhear what Baker was about to tell him.
"We're going to Fort Knox to see your friend Whittaker," he said.
"Donovan told me," Canidy said.
"And there's somebody else there you know," Baker said.
"Are you going to tell me who, or just tease me with your superior knowledge?
"Eric Fulmar," Baker said, enjoying Canidy's surprise.
"If you wanted to surprise me, you've surprised me," Canidy said.
"How'd you get him out of Morocco? More important, why? And what is he doing at Knox?"
"Getting him out was simplicity itself," Baker said.
"Even though he didn't want to come. We had a little talk with Sidi el Ferruch, and Fulmar, trussed up like a Christmas turkey, was delivered to Gibraltar. There he was loaded on a destroyer, taken to Charleston, and then to Fort Knox."
"What for?"
"We have need for friend Fulmar again," Baker said. 99 Why ?" Canidy asked.
"How?"
"Putting him together with Whittaker at Knox was my idea," Baker said, ignoring Canidy's questions.
"He feels about you-about both of us-much as you feel about me. Since we need his cooperation, I thought it might be a good idea to let him know, via Whittaker, that we can make things very unpleasant for him if he doesn't cooperate."
"You are indeed a true sonofabitch," Canidy said, more in resignation than anger.
"You like pushing people around, don't you?" Baker didn't reply.
"Wh
at kind of cooperation?" Canidy asked. "In connection with the North African invasion," Baker said.
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Canidy thought that over for a moment. "Bullshit," he said.
"First of all, you gave me that too quick, and second, we don't need Fulmar. You've already compromised Sidi el Ferruch. He has no choice but to do what you want him to do." Baker smiled patronizingly at Canidy.
"Very good, Canidy," he said. "Let us say, then, we tell everybody who has the need to know that we want Fulmar for Operation Torch."
"What do we really want him for?"
