Free On Her Majesty's Behalf by Joseph Nassise Page A

sound. “You ain’t heard the half of it yet.”
    â€œThere’s more?” Burke asked Nichols warily.
    The other man cast a sour glance at the sergeant and then turned to face Burke.
    â€œAn hour ago the acting prime minister petitioned the president for help in rescuing the royal family. No doubt seeing an opportunity to stage another press conference to help him get reelected, President Harper agreed to send his crack team of special operatives to do the job.”
    Burke frowned. “You don’t mean . . .”
    â€œI do indeed. This communiqué came right from the president himself.”
    Nichols handed over a slim sheet of telegraph paper.
    As of 1100 hours this morning, Burke’s Marauders are ordered to London with all necessary dispatch to locate and rescue the surviving members of the royal family.
    Burke stared down at the orders in his hand without really seeing them.
    â€œFuck me,” he said, after a moment.
    Drummond laughed again. “From over here it looks like somebody already has.”
    Burke shot a withering glance in Drummond’s direction and then followed his commanding officer as he headed back to his desk.
    â€œWith all due respect, sir,” he said to Nichols’s retreating back, “if Calhoun’s three divisions couldn’t pull this off, what makes you think we can?”
    Nichols sat down at his desk and began hunting through a stack of papers in his in-­box, clearly looking for something. “It doesn’t matter what I think, Burke,” he said. “It’s what the president thinks. And after your success in Verdun, he apparently thinks you can walk on water. Besides, you said it yourself, ‘A small covert team of operatives could probably succeed where a larger, heavily armed force might not.’ ”
    Burke frowned. “I said that?”
    â€œRight before you called Brigadier Calhoun an idiot.”
    That Burke remembered. One of his more accurate remarks from that particular morning, as the evidence now showed. Still, this wasn’t the first time his tendency to tell it like he saw it had landed him in hot water.
    â€œThe next time I open my mouth in a meeting, do me a favor and tell me to shut up.”
    â€œI tried. Remember?” Nichols answered dryly.
    Burke did have some vague recollection of brushing Nichols’s hand off his arm, but there was no way he was going to admit that now.
    Nichols went on. “I had the men in your unit recalled as soon as I knew what the president intended. Graves never bothered to take his leave, so he’s been here since your last mission. Williams was on leave in Paris, but I managed to track him down and he will be arriving later this afternoon. I understand that you’ve already met your three new squad members, Cohen, Montagna, and Bankowski.”
    Burke nodded. That left one member of his team unaccounted for.
    â€œWhat about Jones?”
    â€œHe’s in the stockade.”
    â€œAgain?” Burke asked, exasperated. “What did he do this time?”
    â€œSome foolishness involving General Harrington’s staff car,” Nichols said absently, as he searched his desk. After a moment, he found the set of orders he was looking for and passed them over to Burke.
    â€œYou’ll need these to get him out.”
    Burke took them with barely a glance. “How long until we ship out?”
    â€œThere’s a convoy leaving for Le Havre at 1500 hours. You and your men need to be on it. When you arrive, you are to seek out Captain Wattley of the Royal Navy. He’ll see you safely across the Channel.”
    Burke didn’t question the hurried pace; time was of the absolute essence if they wanted to save the royal family. He just hoped they weren’t too late.
    The colonel inclined his head in the direction of the Black Watch noncom standing nearby. “I’ve spoken to British High Command and they’ve agreed