the men,” McCoy said. “Between us, I would be pleased if you call me ‘Ken.’ ”
Kim looked into McCoy’s eyes for a moment.
“My given names are Pak Su. My friends call me ‘Su.’ I would be pleased if, between us, you called me ’Su.’ ”
He put out his hand.
One of the first things I learned in Shanghai was that when an Oriental smiles and offers you his hand, you should quickly put the other hand on your wallet.
I don’t think that applies here. I think this guy is an honorable man, an honorable officer, who has just come on board.
“Thank you, Su,” McCoy said.
“You were saying something about the Corps of Marines?” Su said.
It took McCoy a moment to remember what he had said.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “The Marine aircraft aboard our aircraft carriers are going to provide us, once a day, with aerial photographs of the islands in the Flying Fish Channel. I didn’t want to run the risk of a Marine pilot being captured and knowing that we were interested in any particular island. So I didn’t tell them about Yonghung-do and Taemuui-do.”
“When will you get the first photographs?”
“We already have the first photographs,” McCoy said, and gestured toward the stern.
“I think it would be useful if I saw them,” Su said.
“I know it would be useful if you could point out to me which of the islands are Yonghung-do and Taemuui-do,” McCoy said, and waved his hand as a signal for the South Korean officer to follow him to the stern.
Jeanette Priestly was waiting for McCoy at the head of the ladder.
“Now?” she asked.
“In just a minute,” McCoy said.
Visibly annoyed, she followed him as he went to his musette bag and took from it the envelope of photographs flown to Pusan on the Sicily’s COD Avenger.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Lieutenant Taylor was going to turn the captain’s cabin over to you,” McCoy said. “I’ve just decided we need it more than you do.”
“What am I going to need a cabin for?”
“Because it will be four—maybe five—days before we get back to Pusan,” McCoy said.
“What?” she asked, incredulously.
“Captain,” McCoy said to Taylor, “I suggest we turn your cabin into the operations room, and give Miss Priestly one of the other cabins.”
“Permission granted,” Taylor said, smiling.
“If you think I’m going to spend the night on this thing . . .”
“You’re a pretty good swimmer, are you?” McCoy asked, and waved his hand at the now far-off shore.
Zimmerman chuckled. Jeanette glared at him.
“Ernie, take Major Kim to the captain’s cabin and have him explain these photographs to you,” McCoy ordered.
“Aye, aye, sir,” Zimmerman said.
McCoy turned to Jeanette.
“Okay,” he said. “Now’s now. Would you rather talk here, or in your cabin?”
“What you’re going to do, McCoy, is tell this man to turn this thing around and let me off of it.”
“No, what I’m going to do now is go down and have a look at your cabin. If you want to come there to talk, fine. If you don’t, enjoy the view.”
Zimmerman chuckled again, and Jeanette glared at him again.
McCoy reached into his musette bag again and came out with a bottle of Famous Grouse wrapped in a clean T-shirt.
“What’s that for?” Jeanette asked.
“It’s 1700,” McCoy said. “The cocktail hour. Once a day on this voyage, we get one drink. I’m going to have mine now. You can have yours now, or you can stay up here and enjoy the view.”
Carrying the bottle, he went down the interior ladder and walked into the smallest of the three cabins.
A minute later, Jeanette walked into it after him.
He stepped around her and closed the door. She looked at him with her eyebrows raised.
“Zimmerman—no, Sergeant Jennings—got some air mattresses from the Army,” McCoy said. “This shouldn’t be too uncomfortable.”
She looked at him with mixed incredulity and anger.
He handed her the bottle of Famous Grouse.
“I don’t want a goddamn drink, goddamn you!”
“You may need one,” McCoy said. “Pick’s been shot down, behind North Korean lines, near Taegu. We don’t know whether he’s still alive.”
She looked at him for a long moment, then reached for the whiskey. She unscrewed the cap, took a pull, and handed it back to him.
“What happened?” she asked, levelly.
“He was shooting up locomotives. Best guess is he got hit by either antiaircraft or by pieces of the locomotive. Colonel Dunn flew over the site right afterward. It was on fire, but the cockpit was empty. We think he was probably in one piece when he put it down.”