Both Fine and Canidy knew L’Herminier had the mind-set of a special operator willing and able to make his own independent decisions. Six months earlier, when the SS went to capture the French fleet at the port of Toulon, the admiralty of Vichy France demanded its ships be scuttled. As dozens were burned and sunk at their moorings, L’Herminier ignored orders and, with the Casabianca under cannon fire, dived and made way for Algiers.
“I can convince him to do that,” Canidy said. “Ike will never know.”
Canidy looked between Fine and John Craig.
They said nothing.
“Good. I take it that we’re agreed,” Canidy then said.
“Hold on, Dick,” Fine then said. “Do you really think it’s wise for you to go in—especially with all you know?”
“I’ll answer that question with a question: Did Wild Bill think it was wise to go into North Africa right before Operation Torch?”
“But, damn it, Dick, Donovan wasn’t there.”
“You’re sure about that?”
Fine thought about it for a moment and said, “Then no one knew he was there!”
Canidy made a smug smile. “Exactly.”
Fine pursued: “If the SS finds you—”
“And begins peeling the skin from my pecker?” Canidy interrupted. “I’ll do what Donovan always says if he’s captured—bite a Q-pill.”
Fine looked at John Craig, who appeared to be contemplating the disturbing idea of suicide by cyanide pill.
“You’re my witness, son. I don’t approve of this.” He paused, then added, “That does not mean that I don’t understand it. I just don’t approve of the damn thing.”
“Okay,” Canidy then said cheerfully, “now that that’s resolved, one last thing.”
He looked at John Craig.
“I’m not going to keep calling you ‘John Craig,’ and I’m damn sure not going to stumble over ‘van der Ploeg’ over and over. So, if I’m still going by Jupiter, then you can be . . . oh, what the hell . . . you can be Apollo.”
“Any particular reason?” van der Ploeg said. “I don’t know my Greek gods.”
“Apollo was god of all kinds of things—light, sun, truth, healing, even plague.”
“Okay.”
“I think we’re probably going to need all that—particularly the plague.”
Apollo grinned.
“Stan,” Canidy then said, “would you get on the horn and tell Darmstadter we’re on our way out there? Just as soon as Apollo and I go downstairs and load up in the warehouse, then prepare a message for the commo room to send to the Casabianca. Tell Hank I’ll borrow one of those tiny Stinsons I saw out at Maison Blanche if I have to.”
Now Fine grinned. In some circles, Canidy was damn near infamous for stealing airplanes, boats, trucks, whatever—which he declared he was actually only “borrowing,” arguing that he always returned whatever he took.
“You wouldn’t be borrowing it, Dick. Those birds belong to us.”
IV
[ONE]
OSS Bern Station
Herrengasse 23