Miss Strealer pulled off the hat, and her hair tumbled onto her shoulders. She tucked the cinnamon-colored tresses behind her ears. They tramped toward one of the water stations. The major said something, and she laughed.
If he stood gaping at the pair any longer, he’d be caught staring, and that would not do. Gerard whirled toward the worn but beautiful Georgian-style house, its white Doric columns supporting the second-story portico. The white trim and dentil molding needed to be painted, and the dormers along the roofline had seen better days, but the building still managed to maintain a regal bearing.
Stifling the urge to look over his shoulder to see if he’d been spotted, Gerard trotted up the stone steps and marched across the wooden porch. He flung open the door and hurried inside.
A young blonde dressed in a Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps uniform sat behind a gleaming desk in the middle of the tiled foyer. Gilt-framed portraits of the owner’s ancestors observed the comings and goings with looks of disdain. She held up a finger, warding off his approach, then continued her telephone conversation in muted tones.
He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. Would she ever hang up the phone?
A few moments later, she replaced the receiver and looked up. “How may I help you, Major Lucas?”
“I need to see Colonel Frederickson about a matter of great importance. Is he available?”
“Let me check.” She pressed the button on the intercom to her right. “Minnie, Major Lucas is here to see the colonel. Does he have room on his schedule for a meeting?”
“What is this regarding?” The tinny voice coming from the small box crackled.
Gerard stepped forward. “One of the recruits, Miss Strealer.”
“Just a second.”
Minutes passed. The blonde rolled a piece of paper into her typewriter and began pounding on the keys, the staccato noise bouncing off the plaster walls. Gerard stifled the urge to rush up the stairs and barge into the colonel’s office. That kind of rogue behavior got him sent here in the first place, but it was a surefire way to get him tossed out.
“Send him up.” The disembodied voice broke the silence.
The receptionist’s fingers continuing to dance across the keyboard, and she jerked her head toward the stairway.
“Thank you, miss.” Gerard hurried upstairs, the rubber soles of his boots squeaking against the marble tread. On the landing, he turned right and made his way to the suite that quartered his commanding officer. He ran a hand over his hair and straightened his spine then went inside the ornate outer room. Another WAAC rose when he appeared and gestured toward Colonel Frederickson’s door. The agency might be new, but as a government organization they were just as hierarchy-driven as the army.
He knocked on the doorframe then entered.
Formerly a Pinkerton detective, Theodore Frederickson had been recruited by Director Donovan himself and given the rank of full colonel so no one could question his authority. Somewhere on one side or the other of sixty years old, the man was several inches under six feet but wiry. Gerard had no doubt that whatever his size, he could best anyone.
“Major Lucas, good to see you. Your timing is quite fortuitous. I was just getting ready to send for you.” Colonel Frederickson sat on a blue floral Louis XIV couch near a large stone fireplace in which a fire burned brightly, creating a pocket of warmth in the chilly room. “Please sit.”
Gerard eyed a pair of dainty chairs with spindly legs. He lowered himself into the closest one, waiting for it to give beneath his weight. When the seat didn’t shatter, he leaned back and folded his hands. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Yes, I wondered how our latest group of recruits is getting on. I read the reports, but I find a conversation is often more revealing than dry paperwork. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
“The war is going to heat up, and it is imperative these trainees come up to speed quickly. We also need to know who should be let go. Not everyone is cut out for this organization, and I prefer that we cut them loose sooner rather than later.”
“Absolutely, sir. That’s actually why I came to see you. It’s my belief that Miss Strealer, although brilliant in book learning may not be a good field agent. She’s having trouble getting a handle on some of the finer techniques, and she becomes defensive when corrected. Perhaps retaining her as an analyst is the best placement.” There. He’d said it, and the decision was out of his hands. Why didn’t he feel the satisfaction he’d anticipated?
“Sounds as if she’s a bit like you, eh?”
“Sir?”
“I spoke with your former commanding officer, Major Albert. Bruce and I go way back. Attended the same high school then graduated from Harvard together. He’s my son’s godfather.”
Gerard swallowed. What had the major said about him? “Then you must be close.”
“Like brothers. Nothing we wouldn’t do for each other. That’s why you’re here. He told me about a rather unruly pilot he had. Someone who had trouble toeing the line. A bright chap but somewhat of a bounder. Thought he knew more than his superiors and often argued with them. The final straw was an incident with a Major Quigley.” Major Frederickson’s piercing glare seemed to nail Gerard to the chair. “Sound familiar?”
Face heating, Gerard licked his lips. “Yes, sir.”
“I know Quigley is a pretentious clod, but he is a superior officer. It is imperative that chain of command be adhered to, no matter how much of an idiot is giving the order. Instead of undermining the man in front of others, you should have held your tongue and spoken with someone in authority. At a minimum, you should have been demoted for the incident. He wanted you to be court-martialed, you know, but Bruce sees a quality in you worth saving.”
“I appreciate the opportunity, sir.”
“Bruce is a good judge of character. He indicated putting you in the stockade for the duration would have been a waste of skills and intelligence. I’m inclined to agree, but you’re a bit of a maverick, Major Lucas. That trait only goes so far in this organization. Yes, we’re highly irregular, but even the OSS has protocols that must be followed.”
“I understand.” Gerard kneaded his fingers. Why had the conversation become about him, rather than the recruits?
“Now, before we discuss the wayward Miss Strealer, tell me about her classmates. Most seem to be getting high marks and are fitting in, but there are a couple who may need to be processed out.”
Gerard nodded. “Roper and Crowder should be let go. They are a danger to themselves and others. I can give you specifics, if you like.”
Major Hellman waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “No, I’ve seen their test scores, and if it’s the pair I watched in the quadrangle yesterday during target practice, then I agree with your assessment. One had flaming red hair, the other dark headed. Didn’t seem to take things seriously.”
“That’s them, sir.” Gerard cocked his head. “What if they talk about us after they’re gone?”