got these alternating, for God’s sake—British, American, British! This isn’t an ordinary mission where I’m there for a year. I’m only going to be in each of these places a few days. I can’t afford to spend it faking an accent and worrying about what to call things.”
“I understand,” Badri said placatingly, “but—”
The door opened and a burly young man charged in. “I want to speak to you,” he said to Badri and marched him over to the far corner of the lab. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing moving my drop up?” Michael heard him say, so apparently he wasn’t the only one whose mission they’d been messing with.
He looked over at Linna. She was still on the phone. “—to February sixth, 1942,” she read from the printout.
“How the bloody hell do you expect me to be ready by Monday morning?” the burly guy shouted.
“Denys Atherton,” Linna droned on, “March first, 1944—”
“I understand your vexation,” Badri said.
“My vexation?” the young man exploded.
Go ahead, Michael thought. Hit him. Do it for both of us, but he didn’t. He stormed out, banging the door behind him so violently that Linna jumped. “—to June fifth, 1944,” she said into the phone.
Jesus, how many historians did they have going to World War II right now? Charles was right. They were going to start crashing into each other. He wondered if that was why they’d changed the order of his drops. But if that was the case, they’d have sent him to Salisbury or the World Trade Center.
Badri came back over to Michael. “Can’t you pose as an American reporter?”
“It isn’t just the accent. It’s the prep. I can’t be ready in three days. I don’t have any clothes or papers and I’ve only done the general research, not the—”
“We’re aware you’ll need time for additional prep,” Badri said placatingly, “so we’ve moved the drop to Saturday—”
“You’ve given me one extra day? I’ll need at least two weeks. And now I suppose you can’t do that either.”
“No, no, of course we can reschedule,” Badri said, turning to the console, “but you’ll have to go with lab availability, and we’re extremely heavily booked. Let me see,” he peered at the screen, “the fourteenth might work… no… it will be at least three weeks. I think you’d do better to shorten the prep time with implants. The lab can arrange for you to—”
“I’ve already had my limit. You’re only allowed three, and an L-and-A counts as two. And I had ‘Historical Events—1941,’ which will come in really handy at Dunkirk.”
“There’s no need for sarcasm,” Badri said. “The lab can arrange for a waiver so you can have an additional—”
“I don’t want a waiver. I want you to change the order back the way it was.”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible. And the next open date we have is May twenty-third, which will throw your other drops later. There’s a possibility we might be able to work you in sooner if there’s a cancellation, but—” The screen began blinking. “Sorry. This will have to wait.”
“It can’t. I—”
“Linna,” Badri said, ignoring him. “Retrieval.”
The beeping became more insistent, and a faint shimmer appeared within the folds of the net. It brightened and spread, and Gerald Phipps was standing in the gauzy folds, pushing his spectacles up on his nose. “I told you there wouldn’t be any slippage,” he said.
“None at all?” Badri asked.
“Nearly. Twenty-two minutes. It only took me two hours to arrange everything. I posted the letters, made my trunk call, took the—”
“What about your return?” Badri asked. “Did the drop open on time?”
“Not the first time, but there were boats on the river. They very likely kept it from opening.” He walked over to the console. “When do I go through for my assignment?”
“Friday at half past ten,” Badri said, and he must not have changed his drop because Phipps nodded, said, “I’ll be here,” and started for the door.
“I’m still waiting for you to tell me why you can’t change my drop back to Pearl Harbor,” Michael said before Badri could turn to the console.
“You must be sent in the authorized order—”
“I beg your pardon, Badri,” Linna interrupted. She was back on the phone. “What was the slippage on Phipps’s drop?”
“Twenty-two minutes,” Badri said.
“Twenty-two minutes,” she repeated into the phone.
“Okay, I’ll make you a deal,” Michael said. “I’ll go to Dunkirk, and in exchange you send me to Pearl Harbor and the other sections I need the American accent for, and then to Salisbury and