'I don't have that information.'
'What… I don't understand,' McLanahan said.
'Patrick, this is a highly classified exercise. They want you to go to Executive Airport, to the information booth, the day after tomorrow at eight A.M. You show your ID card and this letter. 'He handed the letter to McLanahan. 'You bring othing else but a change of civilian clothes and toilet articles in one piece of carry-on luggage. They'll give you further instructions when your identity and the letter have been verified. 'Wilder studied the young radar-navigator for a moment.
'Got all that?'
'Yes, sir,' McLanahan replied, shaking off the cloud of confusion. 'I understand everything. It just sounds a bit… weird, that's all.'
'You'll find out, when you've been in as long as I have, Patrick,' Wilder said, standing, 'that all this hush-hush stuff becomes old hat.
Second nature. It may seem like a real exercise in frustration. But they've got to play their games, you know.
McLanahan rose. 'Oh, I understand that, Colonel,' he said.
'Remember, now,' Wilder asked. 'Nobody needs to know about this duty.
Keep this letter out of sight. Don't tell anyone else about what you'll be doing or where you're headed, even after you find out at the airport.
'Yes, sir, ' McLanahan asked. 'That won't be difficult to do, since I don't know anything about what I'm doing.
'Well, don't tell anyone that, either, Pat,' Wilder said, smiling.
'Yes, sir. 'McLanahan turned to leave. Just before he stepped out, he turned to Wilder and said, 'Sir, when I get back I need to talk to you about assignments-and the Air Force.
Wilder nodded and folded his hands before him on the desk.
'I understand, Pat,' Wilder replied. 'I'm glad, at least, that you're going to talk before doing anything else. Believe me, I know what you're feeling. We'll talk when you get back, but don't let it spoil this exercise.'
'I won't, sir,' McLanahan said. He turned and left.
Wilder stood, paced the floor for a few moments, then reached into a desk drawer and lit up a cigarette, the first in several years.
''You'll find out, my boy, when you've been in as long as I have,'' Wilder said sarcastically, mimicking himself, ''that this hush-hush stuff becomes old hat.'' What horseshit, Wilder thought. Real horseshit. And he saw right through it all.
Wilder sat there for a long time smoking the cigarette.
SUNRISE CALIFORNIA
'I don't understand any of this,' she said finally McLanahan had just stuffed the last pair of socks in his bulging gym bag when his mother came into the bedroom to watch him pack. She stood, arms crossed impatiently on her slim chest, staring in dismay He slowly pulled the zipper closed.
'Mom,' he said, picking up the bag, 'there's nothing to understand.
'Is this some kind of secret mission?' Maureen McLanahan asked, half-jokingly. 'Are you a spy?Come on, Patrick. Can't you give me a hint?'
'You've been reading too much John LeCarre, Mom,' McLanahan said.
'I've got orders, just as if I was going to Bomb Comp or off-station training. You know, TDYs, Mom.
They come up suddenly.'
'But your orders don't say where, or for how long, or for what.
'Mom, c'mon. I don't have written orders. I went in to see Colonel Wilder. He gave me all the information.'
'Which is?'
'Which I'm not allowed to say. 'He turned and put his hands on his hips. 'C'mon, now. You know better than to pump me for information I can't give.'
Maureen McLanahan watched her son for a while. Then: 'Catherine said something about the Colonel giving you a new assignment. Patrick nodded. 'I received the assignment I wanted-an excellent position at SAC Headquarters. I had to call them and beg and plead with them to keep the slot open until I get back from this TDY Any other guy in the Air Force would have packed his bags and been on his way in three days.
I may lose that assignment. I may already have lost that assignment.'
Maureen tried to be soothing.
'It sounds like… a wonderful opportunity…'
'It is,' Patrick asked. 'But Catherine may not follow me to Nebraska-she thinks that the military is manipulating me.
And you well, I know what your reaction would be if I moved out.
Patrick slung the bag over his shoulder and hurried past his mother.
'Is that all you're taking?' his mother asked as she watched him enter the living room.
'This is all they wanted me to take,' he replied. 'I imagine they'll supply me with whatever else I need.'
'Oh, Patrick,' his mother said, wringing her hands. 'I want to help you make the right decision, but I can't help it.
The restaurant is our life. If you move away, I don't know if we could handle it by ourselves.'
Patrick walked back to where she was standing and kissed her on the cheek. 'I understand, Mom. I really do. But…
the business is almost running itself now. And you have Paul.
You don't need me like before. 'He gave her a hug. 'It will be all right, Mom. Believe me.'
Maureen McLanahan buttoned the top button of her son's shirt. 'You'll be back, won't you, Patrick?'
She hadn't really heard a thing. 'Yes,' he sighed. 'I'll be back.' She brushed back a lock of hair from her forehead and smiled. 'I love you, Patrick.'
'I love you too, Mom,' he said. He gave her a firm reassuring look, turned and walked out.
The ride to the airport in Catherine's Mercedes was fast and very quiet. McLanahan held hands with Catherine right up until she pulled up to the curb in front of the United Airlines terminal, but few words were exchanged. She did not stop the engine, but only put it into neutral and watched as he retrieved his bag and jacket from the back seat.
'I'm going to miss you,' he said as he piled his belongings on his lap.
'I'll miss you, too,' she replied. There was an uncomfortable pause.
Then she added, 'I wish you didn't have to go.'
'Part of the job, Cat,' he asked. 'It's kind of exciting, all this mystery. A ticket on the Orient Express.
'Well,' she said, 'I don't think it's exciting. It's stupidsending you off to God knows where and not even telling you when you'll be back.'
He stared back at her and said nothing.
'Thank God you won't have to do this much longer,' she went on. 'This just underscores how the military treats people like you. The best nav in the Air Force, bundled up like a sack of dirty laundry and hustled off to Timbuktu.'
'The Air Force has been a good life, Cat. A good job. It's had its ups and downs… ' ' Oh, Pat, that sounds like you, all right,' she said, glaring at him. 'Here you are, on your way to some nonsense at a moment's notice, and you're still spouting the ol' party line.'
She watched him as he opened the car door.
'Got to go, Cat,' he said, leaning over and giving her a peck on the cheek. 'Thanks for the lift. 'He started to step out of the car…
'Patrick,' she said suddenly, 'when you… get back, we have to talk-about us.'
He looked at her for a moment, trying to read her expression, then shrugged. 'Okay,' he asked. 'Fine. 'He
