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“Would it be all right if I had a drink, Colonel?” Canidy asked.

“I sort of hoped you’d offer me one,” Donovan said.

That’s another lie, Donovan thought. I don’t like to drink. But I will drink with you now, because I know it’s important to you that I do that.

Canidy walked across the room to a table on which sat half a dozen bottles of whisky and gin and bourbon.

“Scotch?” he asked.

“Please,” Donovan said.

Canidy made two stiff drinks, walked back, and handed one to Donovan.

“Are we in touch with von Heurten-Mitnitz?” Canidy asked.

"Von Heurten-Mitnitz,” Donovan noticed, not“von Shitfitz”; Canidy was now thinking too hard to indulge his tendency to be clever.

“We have limited access to a British agent in Berlin who will make initial contact with him when the time comes. When that will be, I’ll leave up to you.”

“What exactly is my role in all this?”

“I thought you would have figured it out,” Donovan said. “This operation is yours, Dick.”

That wasn’t the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, either. Donovan had planned to talk to Canidy, to feel him out. The decision as to who would run von Heurten-Mitnitz would be made later, after talking to Stevens and Bruce. Bruce wanted to give the assignment to Eldon Baker. Stevens thought Canidy should have it.

“Getting Professor Whatsisname out?” Canidy asked. “Or running von Heurten-Mitnitz?”

“Running von Heurten-Mitnitz,” Donovan said, making the decision, and then immediately making another. “And running the entire pipeline, when we get that far. You have objections?”

Canidy didn’t reply for a moment.

“I was talking to one of the SOE guys,” he said finally. “He told me, with great pride, that the English spend their time between wars training their intelligence people. That way they have competent people available when they’re needed. At the time, I just got mad. The sonofabitch was taking a shot at the OSS—they’re good at that—but now I’m wondering why we don’t do that. If we did, I wouldn’t be sitting here now, unable to honestly come up with a name, except maybe Baker’s, who could run von Shitfitz better than I can.”

“I think you can do better than Eldon Baker,” Donovan said. “That’s why I gave the job to you.”

“What happens next?”

“Plan to spend several hours with Ed Stevens after I leave. He’ll give you all the details.”

“I’ll stay here?”

“Until it gets in the way,” Donovan said. “You’ve done a good job here, Dick. I was nosing around before.”

“Is that what they call ‘throwing the dog a bone’?” Canidy asked.

Donovan laughed. “Actually it’s called ‘Putting the Other Side to Sleep, We Hope.’ We know they’re watching us pretty closely, so we’re going to try to put them to sleep a little. Fine, for the time being, will continue as Stevens’s administrator. And then we’re going to send him to Switzerland, where we hope they will think he’s going as an administrator.”

“Switzerland? What for?”

“Do you know Allen Dulles?”

Canidy shook his head. “No.”

“I thought maybe you’d met in Washington,” Donovan said. “Dulles is station chief in Switzerland. Good man. We intend to use Stan Fine’s contacts with the Zionists—as incredible as it seems, with what Hitler is doing with the Jews, they have a fine intelligence net inside Germany—to see what he can find out for us. And then, in time, we—which is to say you—will bring Fulmar up from Morocco, where he is working as a linguist, and work him here as a linguist for a while and then send him to Switzerland too.”

“From where we can move him into Germany?” Canidy asked. "You may conclude that it’s necessary,” Donovan said.

“That’s already been decided, hasn’t it?” Canidy asked, looking into Donovan’s face.