The Charm School

Hollis.
    Hollis unfolded it and saw it was a page from a one-time cipher pad. It had that day’s date on it and a frequency. A handwritten note said:
Sit rep, attention C.B.
    Mills looked over Hollis’ shoulder and whispered, “That’s our diplomatic code.”
    Hollis nodded and gave it back to Hughes. “Captain, will you be good enough to have your radio man encrypt a message from this pad as follows: ‘Attention Banks. Landed this location. Situation report to follow.’ Leave it unsigned. Send it out on that frequency.”
    Hughes nodded. He said, “Your two friends in the infirmary are resting comfortably. The medic would like to be briefed on their history.”
    Mills replied, “They’ve both suffered obvious physical trauma. Both have had sodium pentothal recently. The one in the sweat suit is the friend. The one in pajamas is not. He must be restrained for the duration of this voyage.”
    Hughes walked to the door. “I’ll have a steward bring you some breakfast. I’ll arrange for sleeping quarters. In the meantime, feel free to use this room as long as you wish.”
    “Thank you.”
    Hughes left the chart room.
    Hollis went back to the porthole but saw nothing out there except the thickening fog. He said, “We’ve all done a good job. I don’t like what we did, but we did it well.”
    Mills poured himself more brandy. “Yes, and for whatever it’s worth to you all, I wanted to see those men come home… with their new families.” He added, “I’m not a religious man, but perhaps they’re better off where they are now. I don’t think even they really wanted to go home anymore.”
    No one responded.
    Hollis’ mind returned to the Landis house, and he thought of Landis’ little boy, Timmy, and of Landis’ saying about him, “My poor little guy.” Maybe, Hollis thought, just maybe they were all at peace now.
    Hollis sat at the chart table and found a pencil and paper. He said to Mills, “I’ll write Charlie a note.”
    Mills smiled. “Be nice. He probably sat up all night worrying about us.”
    Hollis drew the paper toward him and began writing in standard, nonradio Russian:
    Dear Charles,
    This is Sam Hollis sending you this message, not from the grave, but from the
Lucinda.
With me are Lisa Rhodes, Bill Brennan, Bert Mills, and Captain O’Shea. Also with us are Major Jack Dodson, USAF, and Colonel Petr Burov, KGB, our prisoner. Seth Alevy is dead. Before he died, he told me about your arrangement with CIA, White House, Defense Intelligence, et al. Charm School is permanently closed, as per this arrangement. I must tell you, Charles, I think you and your crowd are far more treacherous and cold-blooded than me or Alevy, or any combat general or spy I’ve ever met. I would like someday to take you out with me on a field operation to expand your horizons a bit. But lacking that opportunity, I demand you meet us personally in London four days from today. The people with me are surviving witnesses to the murder of nearly three hundred Americans by their own government. We must discuss that to reconcile it with our personal sense of morality and the legitimate needs of national security. Come prepared for a long session.
    (Signed)
Hollis.
    Hollis handed it to Mills, who read it, nodded, and passed it on to the others.
    Hollis said to O’Shea, “Captain, go to the radio room and encrypt this. Stay with the operator as he sends, then wait for a reply.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    O’Shea took the message and left the chart room.
    Lisa put her arm around Hollis. “Can British sea captains marry people?”
    Hollis smiled for the first time. “Yes, but the marriage is only good for the length of the voyage.”
    “Good enough.”
    Mills sat in a chair, yawned, and said as if to himself, “In the last twenty-four hours, I’ve been in a Moscow taxi, an Aeroflot bus, an Aeroflot helicopter, a Zil-6, a Pontiac Trans Am, and now, thank God, a British merchant ship.”
    Brennan took a pack of bubble gum from his pocket, started to unwrap a piece, then looked at it. He said, “Seth Alevy bought this for me in the Trade Center. He was a funny sort of guy. You always thought he was kind of cool and someplace else. But if you ran into him in the embassy, he’d call you by name and remember something about you to say. I always noticed that the senior people never said much to him, but the security men, Marine guards, secretaries, and all thought a lot of him.” Brennan rewrapped the gum and put it in