“We is who?” Ernie McCoy asked. “And I thought you said getting to the site was difficult?”
“We is me, a doggie major—real good guy—named Alex Donald, who flew the Big Black Bird, and four Marines in case they were needed.”
“By which, Ernie, he means a great big Sikorsky helicopter painted black,” Pick said. “Your husband has a couple of them.”
“And?” Ernie replied, impatience in her voice.
“Well, we found the crash site. The Gooney Bird clipped the top of a mountain, went in, exploded, and then slid down the mountain. Nobody walked away from the crash. And it was quick. No question about that.”
“Well, that’s comforting,” Pick said sarcastically. “To know it was quick. And you found—what’s the euphemism? —the remains of those on board?”
“We found four bodies,” Zimmerman said. “There was a three-man crew on the Gooney Bird. We figured, even before I found the camera, that the fourth had to be Jeanette.”
“You couldn’t tell?” Ernie asked.
“There was a lot of fuel on the Gooney Bird,” Zimmerman said. “They topped off their tanks at K-16. They were planning to go on to Pusan, and maybe all the way to Japan, after Wonsan. There wasn’t much left of the bodies.”
“So where are the remains?” Pick asked.
“We took them to Seoul, to Eighth Army Graves Registration. It’ll take them at least a couple of days to identify them.”
“Well, that’s no problem, really, is it?” Pick said. “There’s no rush, right? As a matter of fact, who the hell cares?”
“Pick,” Ernie McCoy said. “Oh, Pick, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, so am I,” Pick said unpleasantly. “But I should have known better. Something that good was never really going to happen to me.”
“Pick,” she said, and started to push herself out of the chair.
Her face suddenly showed pain and went pale.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” she said faintly but angrily.
“Mrs. McCoy, are you all right?” Captain Schermer said as he walked across the room to her.
“No, I don’t think I am,” Ernie said. “Goddamn it all to hell!”
Captain Schermer took a close, if brief, look at her.
“Young woman, you stay right where you are,” he ordered, and then went to the door.
“Nurse!” he called loudly. “Get a gurney in here!”
He went back to Ernie.
“Doctor, I don’t want to lose this baby,” she said softly.
“Of course you don’t,” Captain Schermer said. “And we’re going to do everything we can to see that you don’t.”
“Jesus H. Christ!” Pick said.
“Hang in there, Ernie!” Pick called as the gurney rolled out the door.
“Oh, shit,” Ernie Zimmerman said when the gurney was gone and the door had swung closed. “Why the hell did I tell her about Jeanette?”
“She would have found out,” Pick said. “If you are looking for the culprit in this little tragedy, you have to look no further than me.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Zimmerman asked.
“Think about it, old buddy,” Pick said. “If I hadn’t been engaged in trying to become the first locomotive ace in Marine Corps history, I wouldn’t have been shot down, would I?”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Pick,” Zimmerman said.
“And if I hadn’t been shot down, then Ernie wouldn’t have been worried about me for all that time, would she?”
“We were all worried about you,” Zimmerman said.
“Yeah, but I don’t think you love me, old buddy, and, more to the point, you are not with child,” Pick said. “This is the fourth time she’s tried to make the Killer a daddy. Did you know that?”
“He told me.”
“And having been shot down, and not having the balls to do the decent thing, I hung around for all that time, until God, in his infinite wisdom, made that Army convoy make a wrong turn, so I could find them and thus save my miserable ass.”
“Jesus!”
“And if I had not been flown here, then Ernie would not have felt obliged to take a daylong train ride in her delicate condition to come all the way down here to welcome the hero home, would she?”
“Coming here was dumb,” Zimmerman agreed.
“Where, upon arrival, you told her that the hero’s girlfriend, her friend because of me, was now a corpse burned beyond recognition. . . .”
“Jesus, I told you I feel sorry as hell about that. I should have known better.”
“And I told you she would have found out,” Pick said. “This isn’t your fault, old buddy, it’s mine.”
The door opened and Lieutenant (j.g.) Rosemary Hills entered the room.
“Mrs. McCoy has been taken to the women’s ward,” she announced. “There are several very