The Double Agents (Men at War 6)

Of course, these same crooked SS shits taking cash were also more than happy to “accept as a personal courtesy” the occasional skim of whatever it actually was that Nola’s men were passing through the warehouses—from fresh fish to fruit and nuts to the always-appreciated cases of wines.

The irony that the SS used the squeeze technique on the Mafia—the very ones who arguably invented it, if not perfected it, in Sicily—was not lost on Canidy.

“Oh, c’mon, Frank,” Canidy flared. “You’ve got connections. Don’t go playing this I’m but a simple fisherman bullshit game with me again. I swallowed that once.”

Nola looked back at him, intensely and wordlessly.

“If you’re worried about money,” Canidy then said, “don’t be.”

“Money—that would help. But it’s not that alone. I am thinking about the crew gunned down on the fishing boat and about those men hanging at the port. I cannot honor them if I, too, am killed….”

“As long as the Nazis consider you are valuable to them—an asset—no harm would come to you,” Canidy said.

Nola’s eyebrows went up. “As you say, Dick. But I will think about it.”

“If not you, what about someone else?” Canidy said. “What about the others who worked for Rossi? The ones I showed how to use the Composition C-2 on the villa?”

“Maybe.”

“What were their names…Cordova?”

Nola nodded.

“Alfredo Cordova,” he confirmed. “And Alessandro Paterno and Simone Cesareo. We, of course, would have to ask them.”

“First,” Canidy said, “we have to ask about the villa. If it went up, and, if not, why.”

Canidy checked his wristwatch.

“We’re coming up on eight-thirty,” he said. “Tubes, when’s the next set time for your buddy John Craig to throw the switch from SEND to RECEIVE?”

“Oh-nine-hundred,” Fuller said. “That’s when he’ll stand by and listen for our signals.”

Canidy considered that, then said, “That works. That is, if you think you can get the radio rigged by then. Can you?”

Fuller nodded.

“I’ll give it my best shot,” he said. “If not, after that the next

standby is twelve hundred hours, then fifteen and eighteen hundred.”

“Let’s try to get it done now, twelve-hundred at the latest,” Canidy said. “I’ll write the message while you do.”

“Roger that,” Fuller said.

Canidy looked at Nola.

“Frank, think you could in that time try to get an eyeball on Rossi’s sister?”

Oops, Canidy suddenly thought, poor choice of words, that….

Nola nodded.

“Is only minutes away,” he said, then stood up.

Well, he did not catch that or he’s ignoring it.

Either way’s fine by me. So long as we stay on track here.