The Last Heroes (Men at War 1)

‘‘No. But unless you want to sleep on a bench in Union Station, it would be a good idea. There’s no hotel rooms in Washington.’’

‘‘In that case, Q Street," Canidy said.

‘‘Anyway, your clothes are there,’’ Ellis said. ‘‘They flew ’em back one day last week.’’

‘‘My clothes came by plane, but not the same one as I did,’’ Canidy said.

‘‘What the hell, the food was good, wasn’t it?’’

‘‘Yes, come to think of it, it was.’’

‘‘You got to learn to relax, Mr. Canidy,’’ Ellis said.

‘‘Oh, I’m going to,’’ Canidy said. ‘‘From now on.’’

Cynthia Chenowith met him at the door of the house.

‘‘Welcome home,’’ she said.

‘‘Thank you,’’ he said. ‘‘If you really mean that, you will have dinner with me tonight.’’

‘‘You plan to drink yours, obviously,’’ she said.

The telephone rang. She answered it, then handed it to him.

‘‘Hello?’’

‘‘Bill Donovan, Dick,’’ the familiar voice said. ‘‘Welcome home. Well done.’’

Oh shit.

‘‘Thank you, sir.’’

‘‘We’ve got you on an eleven o’clock plane tomorrow to Chicago, with a connection to Cedar Rapids,’’ Donovan said. ‘‘We thought you would like to see your father for a couple of days.’’

‘‘Thank you, sir.’’

‘‘Least we can do,’’ Donovan said.

What’s the matter with me? What is there about this man? Why can’t I say, ‘‘Stick your airplane ticket up your ass, I quit’’?

‘‘I’m grateful,’’ Canidy said.

‘‘We’ll talk when you get back,’’ Donovan said.

‘‘I’ll look forward to it, sir,’’ Canidy said.

"So will I," Donovan said. "Please give my regards to your father."

There was a click. Canidy took the telephone from his ear and stared at it.

He looked up at Cynthia.

‘‘I didn’t get an answer about dinner,’’ he said.

‘‘Dick, I really shouldn’t. I have work up to here,’’ she said, lifting her arm above her shoulder.

‘‘Well,’’ he said, ‘‘we must all make our little sacrifices for the war effort, mustn’t we? Yours is to have dinner with me.’’