an encryption device,” Whittaker said. “So the Japs won’t be able to listen in.”
“Bill?” the President asked.
“We need to send somebody in there who can separate fact from fantasy, and then come out armed with facts on which further decisions can be made,” Donovan said. “The basic fact of guerrilla warfare is that one guerrilla can tie down at least seven troops. . . .”
“So you keep telling me,” Roosevelt said. “And you think Jimmy is the man to go to the Philippines, have a look around, and then come out?”
“Yes,” Donovan said.
“And since the Japanese are listening to the guerrilla radio, and since there is no way we can code what we are sending, how do you propose to let the people in the Philippines know where and when he’s coming? With the Japanese listening in, I mean?”
“We’re working on that, Franklin,” Donovan said.
“The translation of which is, ‘we hope to think of something’? ”
Donovan didn’t reply.
“And you’re willing to put your neck in the noose again, Jimmy?” Roosevelt asked.
“Being very cold-blooded about it,” Whittaker said, “I seem to be the round peg for that round hole.”
“You already escaped once from the Philippines,” Roosevelt said. “How often do you think you can do that?”
“I hear that Jimmy nearly got himself blown away during the Makin Island Raid,” Whittaker replied.
“‘Blown away’?” Roosevelt said. “Interesting euphemism. ” It was obvious that he was making his decision.
“All right,” he said finally. “Do it. I’ll avoid telling George Marshall as long as I can. And I don’t think we should tell Douglas MacArthur until you come out.”
“Thank you, Mr. President,” Donovan said.
Roosevelt was not through. “And come out you will, Jimmy. You understand that? You will go in there, and have a look around, and come out. You may consider that a direct order.”
“I suppose that means I’ll have to go freeze my ass learning how to get into a rubber boat from a submarine?” Whittaker asked.
Roosevelt and Donovan chuckled.
“Now we get down to price,” Whittaker said. “I have a price.”
“Everybody else seems to,” Roosevelt said dryly. “What’s yours?”
“Cynthia Chenowith is my control,” Whittaker said. “Reporting directly to Colonel Donovan.”
“I think I see a hook in there,” Roosevelt said. “What’s all that about?”
“Cynthia was the control for the Kolwezi operation,” Whittaker said.
“Cynthia is going through the agents’ course,” Donovan said. “That runs against Jimmy’s notions of the proper role of women.”
Roosevelt chuckled. “Mine, too,” he said. “Eleanor, maybe. But Cynthia?”
Whittaker laughed.
“That would be your decision, of course, Bill,” the President said.
“Okay,” Donovan said. “You win, Jimmy. I think she’ll be furious, Jimmy, but that’s your worry.”
“She’ll be alive,” Whittaker said simply. “I would much rather have her pissed and alive than happy, heroic, and dead.”
“Are you getting hungry, Franklin?” Donovan asked. “Or would you rather have some more frozen gin?”
“Why does it have to be either/or?” Roosevelt asked, holding his glass up to be refilled.
Donovan pushed the servant call button twice, then went to refill Roosevelt’s glass.
4
OSS LONDON STATION BERKELEY SQUARE LONDON, ENGLAND 5 FEBRUARY 1943
Helene B. Dancy, Captain, WAC (Women’s Army Corps), U.S. Army, administrative assistant to London Chief of Station David Bruce, was of two minds about Richard Canidy. When she didn’t see him for a while, she began to mirror her boss’s opinion of him: that Canidy wasn’t a team player, that he was often doing things—going off with Capt. Douglass’s son as a fighter pilot was the most recent example—that brought into question the wisdom of his having as much authority and autonomy as he did.
But when she was with him, most of her disapproval seemed to vanish. It was absurd to think that anything could happen between them—Helene B. Dancy had been commissioned in the WAC from her job as executive secretary to the senior vice president for real estate, the Prudential Insurance Company, thirty-six hours before she turned thirty and became ineligible because of her age—but she privately admitted that Richard Canidy was the most desirable male she had ever seen. And when she’d been with The Rock, she’d seen a large number of desirable men.
She thought you could tell a lot about a man by his eyes, and when she looked into Canidy’s eyes, she saw gentleness and strength and compassion. And when she did that, she felt about nineteen years old.
“Good morning, Dancy,” Canidy greeted her. “What’s the latest fire from the dragon’s mouth all about?”
“Good morning, Major Canidy,” Capt. Dancy said.
“Well, have I done something new, or is he still mad from the last