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A trim, mustachioed lieutenant colonel, in pink and green, entered. Cronley didn’t recognize the light bird. Without thinking about it, he checked the lapel insignia. It was that of the Judge Advocate Corps.

Great, Cronley thought. Just what I need. An Army lawyer.

On his heels was Janice Johansen. She was in her late twenties and attractive, nicely filling out her pink-and-green uniform, the sleeves of which at the shoulder bore gold-thread-embroidered patches reading U.S. WAR CORRESPONDENT. She carried herself with extreme confidence.

“Jesus Christ, sweetie,” Janice greeted him. “What the hell happened to you?”

She crossed the room to him, bent over, and kissed him wetly on the cheek.

Then she saw the bloody trousers on the bed.

“God, you took a bullet? Two bullets? What the hell happened?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute.”

Cronley then asked, “Who are you, Colonel?”

“My name is Waldron, Captain. General Clay sent me to see you—”

“That sounds like a threat. What are you, my defense counsel?”

“—at the request of Mr. Justice Jackson,” Waldron went on, “and bearing a suggestion from Colonel Frade—”

“What kind of a suggestion?”

“Quote, shut your mouth, Jimmy, and listen to what Tom Waldron has to say, unquote.”

“You know Cletus?”

“He and my little brother were classmates before Cletus changed to Tulane to play tennis.”

“You mean at A&M?”

“We are all products of that noble institution. I’m Class of 1937. Now, before we go any further, are you going to listen to Colonel Frade’s advice concerning closing your mouth?”

“Okay,” Cronley said, chuckling.

“That being the case, the proper response to that question is ‘Yes, sir.’”

Cronley nodded.

“Say it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Waldron turned to Serov.

“I presume, sir, that you are General Ivan Serov?”

“Yes, I am.”

“General Clay said he thought you might be here, sir.”

Serov nodded but didn’t reply.

“What I have to discuss with Captain Cronley is of an extremely personal nature. Both Mr. Justice Jackson and General Clay have told me that Captain Cronley considers you all close personal friends. And because of that, he might be reluctant to ask you to leave us while we are having our talk. But I’ll deal with that. So to spare him any possible awkwardness, I’ll ask you and Miss Johansen to please step outside.”

“They stay, Colonel,” Cronley said, flatly. “That is not open for discussion.”