174 | John W. Warner IV this. And all us land-locked swabbies back home jerking off behind desks are counting on you and your team to do the job. No one else qualified in this parched sandbox would know what the hell they were looking at or what the deeper significance of it would be, just McMaster, you, and that.. .nutty gal of yours. Time is of the essence. Whatever it is they have going on out there, somewhere, anywhere, you need to stop it in its tracks. Find it. Secure it. Bring us back superlative intel, and if need be Destroy it all. He paused. Steal something too, anything of value. Make sure you have young, strong, and capable male team members too, youre not a young squirt anymore in the Rockies carrying a hundred-pound rucksack on snowshoes towing a sled full of beer. And listen, swigger, skip the bilge juice from now on until the missions done. Thats an order, sailor. I still have seniority. Bernie stretched. Dont worry so much, granny. I may be thin, but I can still hack it. I climbed the big pyramid the other day for exercise with a fifty-pounder, twice. It was a bitch, but I did it. Keep it up. Look, Churchill and McMaster are the only Limey brass you or I can trust here, and that comes from our pal Bill direct, so Ill say it againbe damn careful. Bernie nodded. He respected the English spymaster William Stephenson, a close friend of Redways. Stephenson in turn respected the Americans greatly, unlike others in his sphere back in London who still considered them lesser Colonials. Simpson leaned back in McMasters occidental armchair. Now, where can two old sailors get a decent beefsteak, French beans, fried potatoes, and a cold glass of creamy milk around these dusty parts? Blood sugar low, Bernie looked at his watch. T know just the place. Youll love the belly dancing woman and her python.