The Last Heroes (Men at War 1)

‘‘Well,’’ Ann said, ‘‘I finally got a byline on page one. It took a war to do it.’’

She handed Sarah a copy of the Advocate, the ink still slick, and pointed out a box on the front page: ‘‘Last-Minute War News From Our Wire Services. Compiled by Ann Chambers, Daily Advocate staff writer.’’

‘‘Ed could be dead right now, you know that?’’ Sarah said.

‘‘Oh, I don’t think so,’’ Ann replied. ‘‘They attacked Hawaii, not Burma.’’

‘‘I’ve been listening to the radio,’’ Sarah said, turning to Ann to argue with her. ‘‘There’s fighting all over, over there.’’

Ann shrugged.

‘‘I want a father for my baby!’’ Sarah said, close to tears.

Tears weren’t going to help anything, Ann thought. A fight would be better.

‘‘Then maybe you should have written and told him,’’ she said sarcastically.

‘‘I couldn’t do that,’’ Sarah said illogically, but rising to the bait.

‘‘And when he comes back? Do you plan to tell him then?’’

‘‘If he comes back, you mean,’’ Sarah said.

‘‘He’ll be back,’’ Ann said, hoping she sounded more convincing than she felt. She had spent the day reading the wire-service yellows: the Japanese had struck all over the Orient. She hadn’t seen any specific story about an attack on Rangoon, but that didn’t mean anything. And if the Japanese had struck Rangoon, Ed and Dick would have been in it. They were fighter pilots. Fighter pilots, by definition, fought.

God, Ann prayed silently, protect those two bastards.

‘‘It’s not really fair, is it?’’ Sarah asked.

‘‘You should have thought about that before you took your pants off,’’ Ann said, and immediately regretted it.

‘‘Ann!’’ Sarah replied, shocked and hurt.

‘‘I’m sorry,’’ Ann said. ‘‘I’m really sorry.’’ Sarah looked at her, Ann thought, like a kicked dog.

‘‘I had an interesting thought today,’’ Ann said. Sarah didn’t seem at all interested in her interesting thought. ‘‘I thought that you were one up on me.’’

‘‘What’s that supposed to mean?’’

‘‘If mine doesn’t come back, I don’t have anything.’’

‘‘What do you mean, ‘yours’?’’

‘‘I thought you’d figured that out,’’ Ann said. ‘‘Did you really think I’ve been writing him as my ‘patriotic duty’? The only reason he didn’t get in my pants is because he didn’t ask.’’

‘‘Ann,’’ Sarah said, disapproving but unable to keep from smiling. ‘‘You’re outrageous.’’

‘‘I really wish he had,’’ Ann said. ‘‘I almost—but not quite—wish I was in your condition.’’

‘‘Oh, Ann!’’

‘‘Well, knowing those two, we have nothing to worry about,’’ Ann said. ‘‘Unless you want to worry about them being picked off by some exotic foreign female, while we sit here and wait.’’

‘‘I thought,’’ Sarah said, ignoring Ann’s last remark, ‘‘that you’d . . . never done it.’’

‘‘I never have,’’ Ann said. ‘‘That’s what I meant when I decided you were one up on me.’’

‘‘Thanks a lot,’’ Sarah said.