The Last Heroes (Men at War 1)

‘‘Yeah,’’ Canidy said.

‘‘OK. We can put a line on each of them and lower them over the side.’’

That took several minutes.

‘‘So long,’’ Lieutenant Pringer said after the two were safely aboard. ‘‘And good luck!’’

‘‘What the hell do you mean by that?’’ Canidy said. ‘‘We’re going with you.’’

‘‘I’m afraid not,’’ Pringer said.

‘‘Listen to me,’’ Canidy said. ‘‘Didn’t you hear what I said? I’m Lieutenant Richard Canidy.’’

‘‘Then you’ll understand about orders,’’ Lieutenant Pringer said. ‘‘I have mine. And mine were rather specific.’’

‘‘What orders?’’

‘‘My orders say that personnel accompanying passengers are not to be taken aboard the sub.’’

‘‘I don’t believe that!’’ Canidy said.

‘‘The use of force is authorized,’’ Lieutenant Pringer said. ‘‘I hope you won’t make that necessary, Lieutenant.’’

‘‘We’re armed,’’ Fulmar flared. ‘‘We ought to blow your fucking little boat out of the water!’’

‘‘That wouldn’t get you onto the submarine,’’ Lieutenant Pringer said.

‘‘I’m going to kill that sonofabitch,’’ Canidy said.

‘‘I’m really sorry,’’ Lieutenant Pringer said. ‘‘And now I’m going to get in the boat.’’

‘‘That miserable, treacherous sonofabitch!’’ Canidy fumed.

‘‘I’ll say it again,’’ Pringer said. ‘‘Good luck!’’

Fulmar chuckled. ‘‘How do you know I won’t shoot you anyway?’’ he asked.

‘‘I don’t,’’ Pringer said. ‘‘I hope you won’t.’’

He went over the side and was gone.

‘‘I didn’t trust that sonofabitch Baker the first time I saw him,’’ Fulmar said. ‘‘In Paris, I didn’t trust him. But I’m surprised he fucked you, too, Dick.’’

‘‘What happens now?’’ Canidy said.

‘‘Well, I think I can get you to Rabat,’’ Fulmar said, his anger quickly dying. ‘‘Baker may hope you get caught by the Germans, but I don’t, and I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.’’

‘‘What are you going to do?’’

‘‘Back to Ksar es Souk, where I will hope this doesn’t make Thami el Glaoui turn me over to the Germans.’’

‘‘You seem pretty goddamned calm about this,’’ Canidy said.

‘‘I’m half German, half American, and half Moroccan, Dick. Cross out the German half. And all this proves I can forget the American half, too. So I’ve now become a full-blooded Moroccan.’’

Rabat, Morocco March 15, 1942

Just before eleven the next day, a truck backed up to the kitchen door of the United States consulate general in Rabat. The canvas flap opened wide enough for Canidy to jump down from the bed, and then the truck drove quickly off.