Brasch wasn’t intimidated by Hoth’s poisonous expression. “I doubt he will derive much joy from the material,” he said. “But all the same, in the opinion of the Japanese high command, he needs to see it.”

Hoth might have exploded at the notion of Adolf Hitler needing anything sent by an Asian race, but with Hidaka and a handful of other Japanese close by, he restrained himself, snatching the slate away.

“That’s better. All fighting on the same side again,” cheered Skorzeny. “I, for one, cannot wait to see what you can do with this odd little ship, Hidaka.”

“I think even you will be surprised,” Hidaka said.

“You hear that, Brasch! Even me, the fellow says. I like him already. He knows me well. Come, let’s send poor Hoth on his way quickly. He doesn’t like messing about in boats. And we shall have some fun while he is gone. You, Hidaka, tell me all about the fun you had at Pearl Harbor. I am looking forward to killing some cowboys before we are done with this war. But for now, I’ll have to content myself with stories from our comrades in the East . . .”

Skorzeny’s bearlike voice filled the room so completely there was no escape.

Chapter 34

34

ALA MOANA HOTEL, HONOLULU, 0815 HOURS, 10 JUNE 1942

Some habits die hard. Julia’s first instinct on waking was to check her flexipad for messages. She had been mildly obsessive about staying in contact back in the twenty-first, and it would take her a while to shake off the pattern of her first few minutes each day.

There was only one message this morning, which was one more than she’d had most mornings since the Transition. Rosanna had beamed her a quick note in the Moana Hotel’s cocktail lounge last night. Just text:

I WANT ALL THE DETAILS, YOU SLUT.

That cut through the Mai Tai hangover as the memories came crashing in on her. She spun around in the old feather bed and—yes—there he was. He was lying on his stomach, not snoring, God bless him. Julia’s heart gave a small lurch and she slid over to his side of the mattress, slipping one of her legs in between his as she slowly mounted him from behind and began to nip at his ears. Bristles scratched her chin as he shifted beneath her, coming awake.

“What the hell?” he muttered into the pillow.

“Liberated women,” she purred into his ear. “I’m afraid you’ll find us very demanding.”

Two hours later, at a table in the Moana’s courtyard under the banyan tree, Rosanna Natoli leaned forward, her eyes twinkling like those of a squirrel with its mouth full of nuts.

“Quickly, while he’s inside—tell me tell me tell me.”

Julia shot a quick look at the retreating figure of Dan Black, dispatched to the dining room to fetch them some fruit salad.