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“What—?” John Craig van der Ploeg said after he read it.

“Just fucking send the message!” Canidy snapped.

When John Craig van der Ploeg had left the balcony, Canidy looked out in the direction of the Lightnings, their twin tails now tiny points on the horizon.

Stan Fine saw that, too.

“Don’t think about it, Dick. You’re not going back in, by air or sub. You did your job.”

Canidy stared at him.

“That’s really not your call, Stan.”

Resignedly, Fine nodded, then went on, “Corvo’s team from the Sandbox will be en route any day, maybe even tomorrow. They’ll find Tubes.”

Canidy didn’t say anything.

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

Hope I’m at least right about that.

“Okay, meantime, we keep working him,” Canidy said coldly. “Double agents are useful. We can feed him info. Maybe that will buy time to keep him alive.”

Canidy looked out over the Mediterranean Sea, in the direction of Sicily, and sighed loudly.

“You can call me FDR,” he said. “I’m also going to accept only the unconditional surrender of the goddamn enemy.”

[FOUR]

OSS London Station Berkeley Square London, England 1701 14 May 1943

Lieutenant Colonel Edmund T. Stevens reached toward the tray on David Bruce’s desk that held two bottles of Famous Grouse scotch, one full and one about empty, and three glasses. He picked up the open bottle, then looked at David Bruce and Major Richard M. Canidy.

They both had glasses dark with scotch.

“I was about to wave the bottle at you,” Stevens said, “and offer you more, but it would appear that I’m drinking a bit faster than everyone else.”

“I’d suggest it’s an evaporation factor,” Canidy said, smiling. “Air is terribly dry this time of year.”

Stevens finished filling his glass, then touched it to Canidy’s in a toast. “I’m just damn glad you’re here, Dick.”

“Thank you. Me, too.”

David Bruce said, “You were saying about our agent who’s been doubled?”

Canidy nodded. “We’re feeding him disinformation with some really low-level real stuff. There’s a team that’s trying to get to him, see if he’s really turned or just controlled. We don’t know. It’s my opinion that he’s under duress. Tubes is a good guy with no ax to grind, no reason to aid the enemy.”

“Tubes?” Bruce said.

“Maximus, if you prefer.”

Bruce smiled. “Oh, yes. Thank you, Jupiter.”

David Bruce sipped his scotch, then said: “Will the Germans see Maximus as a sign we’re going to invade Sicily? And what about the S-boat and the ship you took out?”

Canidy drank from his glass as he considered his answer.

After a moment, he said, “As to the boats, I don’t see why they would not simply be seen as targets of opportunity. And we have agents in Sardinia, too, so why would we not in Sicily? And before you ask about blowing the villa, that could have been done by anyone, including the Mafia, pissed at the hanging in the port.”