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The short captain’s chest seemed to puff out. “What did y

ou say?”

“I said, I’m afraid that’s classified,” Frade repeated.

“You’re a civilian, right?”

“That’s right.”

"But you do recognize this uniform? You understand I’m a captain in the Army Air Force?”

“Of course,” Frade said.

“So here you sit, a goddamn civilian in an Army Air Force officers’ club on an Army Air Force field, into which you flew an Air Force airplane—”

“Excuse me, Captain,” a voice said somewhat sharply.

Frade turned and in the dim lighting saw an Army MP officer, a major, in full regalia, MP brassard, and a white leather Sam Browne belt with a .45 ACP pistol in a white holster.

What the hell is this all about? Clete thought, then took a closer look at the military police officer. Jesus, am I losing my mind?

“All I was doing, Major,” the Army Air Force captain said, suddenly not so cocksure, “was asking this civilian—”

“You didn’t get the word that no one was to attempt to speak to these gentlemen? To communicate in any way with them?” Second Lieutenant Leonard Fischer, Signal Corps, demanded rather nastily.

“Huh?”

“The response I expect from you, Captain, is ‘Yes, sir’ or ‘No, sir.’ Now, which is it?”

“No, sir. I didn’t hear anything about anything like that.”

“Well, now you have,” Fischer said.

“Yes, sir.”

“I suggest that on your way to your quarters, you spread the word.”

“Yes, sir.”

The two captains and the lieutenant made a beeline for the door.

Fischer turned to Hughes and Frade.

“Now, what are you two doing in here? You were told to be as inconspicuous as possible.”

"We were going to have a drink in our room, Major,” Clete said. “But they wouldn’t sell us a bottle or let us take glasses from the bar.”

“Well, if you insist on drinking, you’ll have to do it in your quarters,” Fischer said. “Go to them now. I will bring you something to drink. You understand I’ll have to tell the colonel about this.”

Five minutes later, the MP major, carrying a bottle of rye whiskey, glasses, and a small tin bucket full of ice, walked into BOQ Room 7, which was being shared by Frade and Hughes.

“A little warm in here, isn’t it?” the MP said.

“Howard, say hello to Second Lieutenant Len Fischer of the Signal Corps,” Frade said.

Hughes did not appear to be surprised to learn Fischer was neither a major nor an MP. The two wordlessly shook hands.

“Actually, it’s first lieutenant,” Fischer said. “As of two days ago.”