Fleming picked up the first letter and began reading:

In Reply, Quote S.R. 1924/43COMBINED OPERATIONS HEADQUARTERS 1A RICHMOND TERRACE.

WHITEHALL S.W.I.

21st April, 1943 Dear Admiral of the Fleet, I promised V.C.I.G.S. that the Major would arrange with you for the onward transmission of a letter he had with him for General Alexander. It is very urgent and very "hot" and, as there are some remarks in it that could not be seen by others in the War Office, it could not go by signal. I feel sure that you will see that it goes on safely and without delay.

I think you will find the Major the man you want. He is quiet and shy at first, but he really knows his stuff. He was more accurate than some of us about the probable run of events at Dieppe, and he had been well in on the experiments which took place up in Scotland.

Let me have him back, please, as soon as the assault is over. He might bring some sardines with him-they are on "points" here!Yours Sincerely,

Louis MountbattenAdmiral of the Fleet Sir A.B. Cunningham, G.C.B., D.S.O.

Commander in Chief Mediterranean Allied Force H.Q., Algiers

When Fleming had finished, he looked up and found Niven holding out the second sheet.

"I like the reference to Dieppe and the experiments," Fleming said. "Gives him a genuine air of being connected and in the know."

"And the sardines line is bloody brilliant," Niven said. "It screams Sardinia- Sardinia- yet subtly." yet subtly."

"And he doesn't want his major stolen," Fleming added. "Sets the mind not to think about something causing the letter not to be delivered. Clever."

Fleming passed the page that he held to Charity, then took the second page from Niven and read:

In Reply, Quote S.R. 1989/43COMBINED OPERATIONS HEADQUARTERS 1A RICHMOND TERRACE.

WHITEHALL S.W.I.

22nd April, 1943 Dear General, I am sending you herewith two copies of the pamphlet which has been prepared describing the activities of my Command; I have also enclosed copies of the photographs which are to be included in the pamphlet.

The book has been written by Hilary St. George Saunders, the English author of Battle of Britain, Bomber Command, Battle of Britain, Bomber Command, and other pamphlets which have had a great success in this country and yours. and other pamphlets which have had a great success in this country and yours.

This edition which is to be published in the States has already enjoyed pre-publication sales of nearly a million and a half, and I understand the American authorities will distribute the book widely throughout the U.S. Army.I understand from the British Information Service in Washington that they would like a "message" from you for use in the advertising for the pamphlet, and that they have asked you direct, through Washington, for such a message.I am sending the proofs by hand of my Royal Marines Staff Officer. I need not say how honoured we shall all be if you will give such a message. I fully realise what a lot is being asked of you at a time when you are so fully occupied with infinitely more important matters. But I hope you may find a few minutes' time to provide the pamphlet with an expression of your invaluable approval so that it will be read widely and given every chance to bring its message of co-operation to our two peoples.

We are watching your splendid progress with admiration and pleasure and wish we could be with you.You may speak freely to my Staff Officer in this as well as any other matters since he has my entire confidence.Yours Sincerely,

Louis MountbattenGeneral Dwight Eisenhower Allied Forces H.Q., Algiers

"Well, I understand why it would be foolish for us not to use these," Fleming said. "That is to say, foolish to use a variation of them. The signatures are genuine." He looked at Montagu. "Right?"

"They are indeed by their own hands."

"I have proofs of the pamphlet, and photographs," Montagu said. "More filler for the briefcase. Which was the original idea-that there would be a logical reason why he'd have personal and business papers all mixed together, the mundane among the most secret."

He then produced a final letter.

"Which brings us to the big one," he said.

Niven took the two pages and began to read. When he had finished the first page, he passed it to Fleming, who then read it:

VICE CHIEF OF THE IMPERIAL GENERAL STAFF.

WAR OFFICE.

WHITEHALL, LONDON S.W.I.

Personal and Most Secret 23rd April, 1943 My Dear Alex, I am taking advantage of sending you a personal letter by hand of one of Mountbatten's officers to give you the inside history of our recent exchange of cables about Mediterranean operations and their attendant cover plans. You may have felt our decisions were somewhat arbitrary, but I can assure you in fact that the Chiefs of Staff Committee gave the most careful consideration both to your recommendations and also to Jumbo's.

We have had recent information that the Boche have been reinforcing and strengthening their defences in Greece and Crete, and C.I.G.S. felt that our forces for the assault were insufficient. It was agreed by the Chiefs of Staff that the 5th Division should be reinforced by one Brigade Group for the assault on the beach south of Cape Araxos and that a similar reinforcement should be made for the 56th Division at Kalamata. We are earmarking the necessary forces and shipping.

Jumbo Wilson had proposed to select Sicily as cover target for Husky; but we have already chosen it as cover for Operation Brimstone. The C.O.S. committee went into the whole question exhaustively again and came to the conclusion that, in view of the preparations in Algeria, the amphibious training which will be taking place on the Tunisian coast, and the heavy air bombardment which will be put down to neutralise the Sicilian airfields, we should stick to our plan of making it cover for Brimstone-indeed, we stand a very good chance of making him think we will go for Sicily-it is an obvious objective and one about which he must be nervous. On the other hand, they felt there wasn't much hope of persuading the Boche that the extensive preparations in the eastern Mediterranean were also directed at Sicily. For this reason, they have told Wilson his cover plan should be something nearer the spot, e.g., the Dodecanese. Since our relations with Turkey are now so obviously closer, the Italians must be pretty apprehensive about these islands.

I imagine you will agree with these arguments. I know you will have your hands more than full at the moment and you haven't much chance of discussing future operations with Eisenhower. But if by chance you do want to support Wilson's proposal, I hope you will let us know soon, because we can't delay much longer.

I am very sorry we weren't able to meet your wishes about the new commander of the Guards Brigade. Your own nominee was down with a bad attack of 'flu and not likely to be really fit for another few weeks. No doubt, however, you know Forster personally; he has done extremely well in command of a brigade at home, and is, I think, the best fellow available.

You must be about as fed up as we are with the whole question of war medals and "Purple Hearts." We all agree with you that we don't want to offend our American friends, but there is a good deal more to it than that. If our troops who happen to be serving in one particular theatre are to get extra decorations merely because the Americans happen to be serving there, too, we will be faced with a good deal of discontent among those troops fighting elsewhere perhaps just as bitterly-or more so. My own feeling is that we should thank the Americans for their kind offer but say firmly it would cause too many anomalies and we are sorry we can't accept. But it is on the agenda for the next Military Members Meeting and I hope you will have a decision very soon.Laus Deo.

Yours ever, Archie NyeGeneral the Honourable Sir Harold R.L.G. Alexander, G.C.B., C.S.I., D.S.O., M.C.

Headquarters 18th Army Group

"Jumbo Wilson is Field Marshal Wilson-" Niven said.

"Right," Montagu interrupted.

"But what is Brimstone?" Niven went on.

"That's the fake code name for Sardinia. Sir Archibald chose it. Clever, yes?"

Fleming nodded.

"And he used Husky for the eastern op," Fleming said.

"Reasoning behind that," Montagu said, "is that it's not if if but rather but rather when when the Germans will come across an operation with the code name of Husky." the Germans will come across an operation with the code name of Husky."

"Laus Deo," Charity added. "Nice touch." Charity added. "Nice touch."

"Praise God," Montagu said solemnly. "Always appropriate."

"This letter covers a lot of ground," Fleming said. "As do the others. But this one, especially this big one, I don't think I would change anything in it if I could. It smells like the real thing because it is the real thing."

"Agreed," Niven said. "Just hope the Krauts think so."

Everyone else around the table nodded their assent.

Montagu then looked at the bulk of the work for the day and smiled.

"Well," he said, "thank you all. I do believe that we are finished with this aspect. That leaves us to collect only a few more minor miscellaneous items-his ID, the coins and such one would find in his pockets, et cetera. Tomorrow we can handle that, then Major Martin shall be dressed and the complete package prepared. Then we're off to the Seraph." Seraph."

"Splendid piece of work," Fleming said.

"Thank you," Niven said.

"The compliment was meant for Ewen," Fleming said. "But, okay, you did brilliantly yourself."

"Thank you," Niven repeated. "And thank you, everyone." He paused, and, with raised eyebrows, added: "Formalities complete, then we are finished for the day?"

Montagu nodded. "I do believe so."

"Then I say it's to the pub for commencement of Attitude Adjustment Hour!" Niven said.

"I'm not certain there is any booze left after your bender last night," Private Ustinov said.

[FOUR].

Palermo, Sicily 0650 5 April 1943 Moving as quickly and as quietly as they could, Frank Nola led Dick Canidy and Jim "Tubes" Fuller back up the hill along Via Quinta Casa. They worked their way past the train station at Via Montepellegrino, and finally to a street off Via Altavilla that was lined with two-story apartment buildings.

The morning light was getting brighter by the minute.

And the sounds of people stirring was becoming greater.

So, more and more signs that there weren't mass deaths, Canidy thought. Canidy thought.

It was not necessarily a well-kept neighborhood. There was some trash in the gutters of the street. The masonry exterior of the buildings had holes and large cracks that needed patching. Some appeared to have needed attention years earlier, as wild plants had taken seed in the cracks and were growing thickly there.

Nola stopped at a wooden door to one apartment house. It once had been painted a bright yellow color but now was faded and peeling. A small, weathered wooden cross was hung centered in a small niche above the door.

Next to the door was a large, single window with ornamental wrought iron protecting it. The rusted ironwork had a series of four iron baskets welded to it, and each of these held a clay flowerpot painted in elaborate colors. The plants in the pots looked unattended, their leaves drooping and dirt dry.

Clearly, no one's tended to those recently, Canidy thought. Canidy thought.

The lace curtains behind the dirty panes of the window were drawn shut. There was no evidence of movement or light inside.

Nola knocked loudly on the door. There was no answer after a minute, and he banged even louder.

That should awaken the neighborhood, Canidy thought, Canidy thought, if not the dead. if not the dead.

Nola looked impatient. He glanced over at the window, then back at the door. Then his face registered something.

He went over the wrought ironwork and began lifting the far-right pot out of its holder. He looked inside the holder, under the pot, then immediately dropped the pot back in. He moved to the pot to its left and repeated the procedure. When he pulled out the third pot and looked inside, he shook his head. He then reached in under the pot, pulled out a big brass key, its finish mottled by minerals from the potting soil, and dropped the pot back in its holder.

"My cousin's wife," Nola said, rolling his eyes. "Nicole, she never puts anything back where she gets it. We are lucky there was a key in any of the pots."

He went to the door. He slipped the key into its lock, turned it, then worked the wobbly doorknob until it finally rotated. The door swung inward and they all quickly went inside.

The first room off the front door, which turned out to be the kitchen, was dark.

"Ciao, Mariano!" Nola called out as he walked to the window. Nola called out as he walked to the window. "Ciao, Nicole!" "Ciao, Nicole!"

Nola put his leather satchel on the kitchen counter, then pulled the lace curtains open.

"That's not a good idea," Canidy said, "letting people see who's in here."

Nola looked at him a moment. He considered what Canidy had said, then looked around the room. He saw two large candles and a box of matches on the flimsy folding table in the middle of the kitchen. He pulled the curtains closed and then lit the candles.

"I will go check if anyone is here," Nola said, then motioned toward the two wooden chairs at the flimsy table. "Sit. This will be our home."

Canidy looked around the kitchen. It was filthy. A garbage can stood un-emptied. The sink overflowed with foul-looking plates that were crusted with what was left of some rice and chopped meat, maybe pork or lamb. The tiled countertop had a collection of dirty glasses. One was half empty, a nasty growth of some type floating in it. A fat black cockroach scampered out of a chipped bowl, then disappeared into a gap in the grout where the counter met the wall.

Our home? Canidy thought. Canidy thought. Not in this dump, if we can avoid it. Not in this dump, if we can avoid it.

"Please, sit," Nola said, adding: "I be right back."

Nola started for the back of the apartment.

"Nicole!" he called as he went. "Mariano!"

In moments, they could hear him going up wooden steps, still calling out the names.

Canidy put his duffel on the floor beside one of the chairs, pulled the chair back from the table, moved it so that he would have a view of the window and door, and sat down.

He motioned to Fuller.

"Go ahead, Tubes. Take a load off your feet."

Fuller slid the suitcase under the table, then put his duffel on the floor, untying the pouch from its strap. He put the pouch on the table.