The Secret Warriors - By W.E.B. Griffin Page 0,120
upstairs, a Signal Corps lieutenant was in the suite Admiral de Verbey had occupied. He told Colonel Stevens that the suite had just been swept and that nothing had been found. He also reported that a phone tap on the lines to Whitby House had been discovered. It had been put there, as Colonel Stevens had thought it might be, by the Free French. As Colonel Stevens directed, it had been left in place. They were still working on the installation of a secure line. It was difficult, he said, because of the old-fashioned British telephone equipment.
After he had gone, and their dinner was laid out for them, the reason for having the room swept became apparent. Stevens gave Canidy a report on the African flight first because he knew Canidy was concerned about it. The report was encouraging: The CAT C-46 was by now off the west coast of Africa, past danger of interception by German fighters. There should be word shortly that they had landed at Bissau, in Portuguese Guinea. Having got that over with, Stevens got down to what was more pressing for him.
“I wanted to talk to you about future operations, Dick,” he said.
“Torch?”
“Beyond Torch,” Stevens said matter-of-factly.
“We intend,” he went on, “to establish an OSS detachment in Switzerland. When Fine returns from Africa he will be sent there. He has contacts in Europe, both in the motion-picture business and with various Zionist organizations. There are people in Germany and Eastern Europe that we’re going to have to try to get out. There are already a couple of pipelines, but Colonel Donovan wants us to establish more. I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you anything more about that except that it has the highest priority.”
“I’m surprised you’re telling me this much,” Canidy said.
Stevens did not respond to that.
“Another high priority is getting our hands on a German jet engine. Depending on how things work out when we send him back into North Africa for Torch, Eric Fulmar will probably be involved with that. It may be necessary to send him into Germany. But in any event, when Torch is over, it is planned to send him to Switzerland. There is even an idea—which I consider pretty far-fetched—to steal a jet aircraft.”
“Have we got anybody who knows how to fly one?”
“No,” Stevens said. “And from the information we have, the jets don’t have sufficient range to make it out of Germany. But since Colonel Donovan hasn’t rejected the idea out of hand, you can see the priority he places on getting concrete information on the jet fighters.”
“Are you thinking of using me to steal one of these airplanes?” Canidy asked.
Jesus Christ, I hope not!
“As you don’t know how to fly one,” Stevens said, “I think that’s probably not in the works. But on the other hand, we’re in an unlikely business. There is one aviation operation in which you will be involved, however. You and Whittaker. The Germans have built submarine pens at Saint-Nazaire that are apparently bombproof. The Navy has come up with an idea. I’m told the idea actually came from a young lieutenant named Kennedy?”
Thinking he was being asked if he knew him, Canidy shook his head. “I don’t know him, I don’t think,” he said.
“No reason that you should,” Stevens said. “But I thought you might recognize the name. I know him. And what he wants to do is turn worn-out B-17s into radio-controlled flying bombs. The aircraft would be loaded with explosives, and then flown directly into the submarine pens.”
“Can that be done?” Canidy asked incredulously.
“Taking out the submarine pens is of such importance—we simply can’t accept the damage the submarines are doing to the Atlantic supply line—that the Joint Chiefs have given them authority to have at least a shot at it. We have been directed to support them as far as we can. You’re an aeronautical engineer—”
“Who has never even been in a B-17,” Canidy interrupted.
“And Jim Whittaker is an explosives expert,” Stevens went on. “I’ve arranged for the British to demonstrate an explosive of theirs, something called Torpex, to our experts. One of those experts should be Jim Whittaker. I think you should be the other one. Go talk to Kennedy, at least.”
“A lieutenant is running this?” Canidy asked.
“Not only is Lieutenant Kennedy a very bright young man,” Stevens said, “but his father owns the Merchandise Mart in Chicago, just about controls the import of Scotch whiskey into the United States, and was the ambassador to the Court of