1945 (52 page)

"Plus whatever the RAF can send our way," Jim added.

"We won't want to depend on them for anything," Marshall said. "They will be in a bad way by the time we get there."

"And the Luftwaffe?" Harrison asked. "What exacdy do we anticipate facing from them?"

Betty consulted her notes. "After a months fighting with the RAF we figure they'll be down to around sixteen hundred and fifty 262s and eight hundred and fifty Gothas."

Marshall said thoughtfully to Halsey "This will need careful analysis of course, but here's my dream scenario: The Phantoms and Bearcats fly normal Combat Air Patrol in forward-defense mode, well ahead of the carriers; the Germans jump the CAP; the Shooting Stars arrive on the scene to make things a little more interesting—and after the Germans have lost airspeed dogfighting, the P-82s swoop by and tear some of their heads off. That causes the Germans to break off to regroup; while they're separating, the Bearcats fire off their RATOs and slaughter them to the last plane with the aid of the two thousand Mustangs that have just arrived."

"I like your way of thinking, General," Halsey grinned.

MacArthur looked at them with raised eyebrows.

Marshall smiled. "It won't work out just that way, of course. But while it's true that no battle plan ever survived contact with the enemy, it is also true that no enemy survives contact without a batde plan."

They all laughed.

The red phone rang.

In the silence that followed the President picked up
the
receiver. "Harrison here."

"Mr. President."

"Winston. How goes it?"

"We have beaten them off for today, Andrew, and given better than we received. In the north, though, Rommel's forces have gained a solid foothold. It begins to look like he will manage to keep the fuel depots."

"Will you throw everything at him?"

"We cannot. We await a second invasion to the south, probably around Dover. It will be the main thrust We must hold Rommel at a line running from Newcastle to 
Carlisle with as small a force as possible as we await the southern onslaught."

"Is there anything we can do for you, Winston?" "Come soon, Andrew, come soon. Do you hear the bombs? It's not like last time, Andrew."

"I've consulted again with my people, Winston, and thirty days is the best we can do."

"Then we will hold for thirty days. But there won't be much left of us."

In the background Harrison could indeed hear the sound of numerous explosions, some very loud. For a moment it seemed that the connection had broken up entirely, but then the roar again became a hiss. "Winston. I do have some good news for you." "Good news is always welcome, never more than now." "We've been doing some thinking here, and when we arrive it will—"

Donovan's hand clamped on the President's wrist. "Sir! Security!" he whispered desperately.

After a brief moment of outraged tension, the President relaxed and nodded, and Donovan sagged away from him.

"Winston, I'm afraid the exact contents of our present must remain a surprise for now."

"Come soon, Andrew, with all the presents you can."

Again the sound of a nearby explosion was followed by a crackling roar that overwhelmed the line, and this time did not recede.

In the nearby communications room, John Mayhew flung down his headphones and snarled with frustration and despair.

TO BE CONTINUED ...