that meant he was flying. All Anne could do was leave a detailed message saying where she was and that she should arrive in Kunsan a few hours after dawn, and that she was scheduled to be flown out to Japan that evening. The airman said Major Christopher would get the message as soon as he returned. She hung up.
The two broken-down vehicles barely fitted inside the garage. Anne stayed there, pacing and fuming inside as the time passed. She knew she should be fatalistic, but they’d lost half an hour just getting into the garage. They had been working for an hour since then.
The truck with the cooling problem had been easy to fix, but the other! Bell hadn’t imagined his problems with the transmission. Metal from worn gears had worn and chewed the works until the question was why it had worked at all. Bell, still cursing under the truck, wanted a new transmission.
They didn’t have one. Mr. Moon gleefully informed them of that, and that he had no parts for that kind of truck, and they could leave now, thank you.
Two hours later the convoy rumbled back onto the highway. Some of Anne’s frustration ebbed as the convoy left Onyang and started moving through the countryside.
Sitting in the dark cab, with Hutchins asleep on one side and the dark rice paddies on the other side, there was time to think. The airman had called him “Major” Christopher. She was pleased and proud for Tony, and for herself as well. She seemed to have picked someone with real ability and…
Wait a minute. What were her feelings for Tony? Why was she so worried about getting to Kunsan on time, if not to see him? What was she going to say to Tony in Kunsan when she did see him? What would he say to her?
Too many questions. She sat in the cab, musing and rehearsing and analyzing and discarding until she drifted off to sleep.
A sharp jolt woke her, bumping her head against the window hard enough to see stars. Rubbing the sore spot, she opened her eyes as Hutchins started chewing out his driver’s lack of skill.
She looked at her watch. Almost two hours had passed. “Where are we?”
Hutchins paused long enough in his tirade for Bell to answer. “We should reach Kwangch’on any minute, ma’am.”
She found it on the map and showed it to Hutchins. It was far enough down the coast to lift her spirits. She might get to see Tony yet, not that she knew what to say to him.
Hutchins took the map, trying to determine their exact position, and Anne started to look for landmarks. It was something to do.
One of the first things she saw was a highway marker, illuminated by the truck’s headlights, with “29” on it. “Captain, where does that put us?”
Hutchins glanced at the sign, then studied the map. His studious expression was suddenly replaced by anger. “It puts us on the wrong highway! We’re supposed to be on Highway Twenty-one, not Twenty-nine!
Bell tried to look at the map as well, but Hutchins pulled it away. “Just drive, Private.”
He studied the situation for a few minutes. “Which way did you turn in Hongsong when the road forked?”
Looking like a student unprepared for a pop quiz, Bell answered, “Right?”
It took another ten minutes to stop the convoy, turn the trucks around on the narrow two-lane road, and head back in the other direction. Hutchins drove while Anne navigated, and Bell curled up next to the door in not- so-distant exile.
Hutchins was irritated but hopeful. “We should still get you into Kunsan before noon.”
Anne was not comforted. Half her day with Tony would be gone.
Tony Christopher held the message Airman Rice had handed him and studied it for the third time. The airman carefully edged away toward a side door. “Luther, how did she sound? Was she sure she’d be here?”
“Sir, I wrote it all down just like she said it. ‘I am enroute by convoy to Kunsan from Onyang for air evacuation to Japan tonight. Expect to arrive by dawn. Will call when I get there. Hope to see you. Anne.’ ” It had been easy to memorize the message. Rice had repeated it to the major four times.
She was alive. She was all right. She hadn’t been shot down or bombed at Kimpo. Intellectually he had known that she was probably okay, but there had been a chance, a possibility he didn’t like thinking about. And she would be coming to Kunsan, then leaving that night.
“Before dawn.” Well, he needed to sleep, but he needed to get some work down as well. His duties as ops officer had cut into his flying. He was only flying one or two missions a day now, and he did paperwork in the morning. He would be free to see Anne, but only if he got his desk clear first. There were some things he wanted to tell her.
He got busy. Flying was more important than paperwork, but it still had to be done. The adrenaline started to wear off from his mission, and his excitement about the message, and he started yawning. He kept at it, though, knowing that he would not sleep.
“Major. Major!” Somebody was shaking his shoulder. He looked up and saw Airman Rice standing over him. He looked apologetic.
“Sorry, sir, but they’ll stop serving breakfast soon, and I wondered if you wanted to get anything to eat.”
Groggily, Tony said, “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” He started to put his head back down, then suddenly sat bolt upright. Breakfast ended at eight o’clock.
Rice was already heading for the door when Tony called to him. “Have there been any other messages?”
“No sir, not a thing.”
Tony sat at his desk and calculated. The sun had been already been up for an hour, and he had his first mission brief at fourteen thirty. And all he could do was wait.
“Hey, Saint, why so worried? We got a big mission on?” Hooter’s entry into a room was never quiet.
“Anne’s coming to Kunsan.”
“She’s safe? That’s great news! When will she get here?”
“She was supposed to be here an hour ago. She’s being evacuated out to Japan through the airbase here, and her convoy was supposed to arrive before dawn.”
“When does she leave?”
“Tonight.” He showed John the message, his frustration apparent.
“I see your problem. What have we got, six hours before the brief?” Suddenly John brightened. “I’ve got it! Victory through air power!”
Tony was baffled. “What in hell are you talking about?”
“Relax, Saint, I’ve got it all figured. I know an Army aviator, ‘Chips’ Nicholson. He’s a helicopter pilot, and he’ll do anything for two bottles of Scotch.”
Tony was still confused. “So?”
“So, since she can’t get here in time, let’s go find her. Chips can fly north, find the convoy, and set you down.”
Hooter pulled out a map lying on Tony’s desk. “Look, there’s only one way to get from Onyang down here. And Onyang’s only seventy miles away. That’s an hour in the chopper, and she’s probably well south of there by now. We can take off, fly there, and be back by lunch.”
Tony sat, considering. He usually made decisions quickly, but this was not his style. There wasn’t anything to worry about. The risk of enemy activity was slight.
He looked up at Hooter as his wingman paced the room. “What will Shadow think?”
Hooter shook his head. “My fearless leader, uncertain? Shadow won’t know.”
Tony thought about the risks, and the risk of not seeing Anne. “Okay. Let’s do it. By the way, why ‘Chips’?”
“He got his helo too close to a tree once. Luckily he was close to the ground. You go find the hooch, I’ll make a phone call.”
Tony felt at home on the flight line, but looking at the helicopter, he felt a little uneasy. Like most aviators, he regarded rotary wing aircraft as a momentary aberration of aerodynamics. Any minute now everyone would realize that they really couldn’t fly.
Lieutenant Nicholson was a savvy-looking pilot who greeted Hooter warmly, exchanging punches to the
