Free Ultimate Issue by George Markstein Page B

on Hiroshima
    The general had three aircraft models on his desk. One was a silver RB-47, another an RB-66. Verago didn’t know what kind the third was, a needlelike, sharppointed plane with curious wings that looked out of proportion.
    “Sit down, Captain,” invited the general. He was softspoken and had dark-brown eyes. His complexion had a pasty pallor, as if he spent a long time indoors, or underground. He looked like a man who could do with a good vacation in the sun.
    “Thank you, sir.”
    “I’m sorry about this affair,” said the general, without preliminaries. “I hope we can get it over as quickly as possible.”
    Verago felt it wise to stay silent.
    “You will of course be given every facility to defend this officer, and we’ll try to make your stay comfortable.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    The general contemplated Verago for a moment. His brown eyes were quite unashamed in their curiosity.
    “I believe you don’t know Captain Tower, is that
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    “No, sir. Not yet.”
    Verago tried to recall if he had ever heard of an air base commanded by a general. He didn’t know much about the air force, but this place seemed heavy on top brass.
    “It’s an unpleasant business,” went on the general. “I dislike this kind of case in my command.”
    Verago led with his chin. “I am not sure we should discuss the case, sir,” he said.
    “I see.” The general was poker faced. “In that case, Captain, we won’t discuss it.”
    Verago waited.
    “But I think I ought to tell you that this installation has a classified mission.”
    “I understand, sir.”
    “This is a tactical reconnaissance wing, and we don’t talk about our activities, is that clear?”
    “Yes, sir,” said Verago. The old unease started up again.
    “Good. So neither of us will discuss certain sensitive areas. Agreed?” The general allowed himself a cold smile.
    “Very well, General.”
    “You’ll find Lieutenant Jensen has done an excellent )ob.”
    “Who is Lieutenant Jensen, sir?” asked Verago.
    “1 thought you knew. Captain Tower’s defense counsel, of course. The one we appointed.” The hint of impatience was not disguised. “He’s done all the groundwork. A good lawyer. I guess you won’t find much to do around here.”
    Was it a hint? Or a warning?
    “I look forward to working with him,” Verago said carefully. “But first I’m going to see Captain Tower. I think it’s about time I met my client.”
    “Sure thing,” agreed Croxford. He shifted the model of the RB-47. It had not been in straight alignment with the other two planes. “As soon as we can fix it.”
    “What’s the difficulty?” asked Verago, very quietly.
    “Captain Tower isn’t available right now.”
    Of course. He should have expected something like this.
    “I don’t get it, General,” said Verago. He sat up very straight. “What’s the problem?”
    - General Croxford frowned. He was not used to being
    cross-examined.
    “Your client is in the base hospital. I believe he’s had
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    some kind of nervous breakdown.” The general shook his head. “I’m sorry, but the doctors have given orders he’s not to see anybody.”
    He paused, but Verago just stared at him.
    “Obviously, we mustn’t allow anything to happen that could harm him. Like pressurising him. I’m sure you concur with that, Captain.”
    The ear-splitting roar of a jet plane flying low shook the office. The noise made Verago wince, but General Croxford tilted his head and listened to it like a conductor appraising his orchestra.
    “You’ll get used to that, Captain,” he said when the sound faded. “Leastways, I hope so.”
    He brushed an invisible spot off his immaculate uniform. “Hell, we don’t want you to have a nervous breakdown too.”
    Verago wasn’t smiling. “I don’t think that’s likely, General. But I’d appreciate knowing how long he’ll be in there.”
    “Captain, I’m no psychiatrist. How do I know?”
    “What about the