"I don't understand."
"I am not in communication with the commanding officer of the First In-fantry," Rawson explained. "They had a radio truck with them, but it has stopped functioning, and the telephone lines all along Libertador are not work-ing. They were probably disconnected by the Navy; there is a switching station inside the compound."
What about sending a messenger?
Rawson read his mind.
"I've sent three messengers, and they have either been unable to get through, or the legitimacy of the order is being questioned."
"What about dropping them a message?" Clete thought out loud.
"Excuse me?"
"You have three Piper Cubs on the airfield. One of them could be there in ten minutes. Just drop your orders to the commanding officer."
"Drop?" Rawson asked, confused.
"You put the message in a pouch, with something heavy, like a wrench or a brick. You tie a long piece of cloth to the pouch, so that they can see it coming down, and throw it out the window."
"Is that possible?"
"It's routine in the Marine Corps," Clete said.
"How do you keep the message from falling into the... wrong hands?"
He almost said "hands of the enemy." But these sailors aren't enemies, they're people who just haven't gotten the word. Which probably explains why the infantry commander hasn't blown them away. They're trying to spill as lit-tle blood as possible.
"You fly low enough, and slow enough, over the people you want to get the pouch so you can't miss."
"That's very interesting."
Clete warmed to the subject.
"As far as that goes, there's a couple of soccer fields right next to the Navy School. You could land a Cub there and deliver the message in person."
"Is that possible?"
"Yes, it is."
"You would be willing to do that?"
Oh, shit!
Actually, I was thinking that Capit n Delgano would be just the man for the job. For one thing, he's got a lot more time in Piper Cubs than I do; and for an-other, I don't think I want to explain to some loyalist Argentine sailor what I'm doing flying an Army airplane for the revolutionaries.
"Yes, Sir," he heard himself saying. "If you'd like me to."
"Excuse me for a moment," Rawson said. "I would like a word with Gen-eral Ramirez."
He was back in two minutes with Ramirez, who obviously thought the idea had great merit.
"What I was thinking. Mayor Frade," he said, "was that we have two prob-lems which might be solved if you believe you can drop a message to the First Infantry by small aircraft."
Are you ever going to
learn to keep your mouth shut?
"Yes, Sir?"