Read Online The Master Sniper by Stephen Hunter - Free Book Online Page B

the Claridge bar. It was late on a Friday night in mid-March, wall-to-wall uniforms, no V-2’s had fallen for a couple of days, and after a lot of trying he’d finally talked her into an actual date. They’d had dinner at the Hungaria and, on Roger’s recommendation, had dropped by this bright spot, where all the London beauties and big shots were said to camp out. So far Susan had seen two movie stars and a famous radio broadcaster. Leets had noticed instead other OSS officers in the smoky crowd and had fancied himself already slighted a couple of times, and once had even made a move toward one snide aristocratic profile, but Susan had tugged him back.
    “No trouble. Remember. You promised.”
    “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled.
    Now, several whiskies down him, he was feeling sweeter, the friend to all men. He had her to himself: no Phil, no Jews.
    “Barkeep,” he hailed, trolling in one of the red-jacketed boys behind the mahogany bar, “two here, old bun.”
    “No wonder they hate us,” she said.
    Around them the talk was of the new offensive. Beyondthe Rhine! It would be over by the blooming of the flowers, the coming of spring. This optimism had the effect of depressing Leets.
    “You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself,” she said. “For God’s sakes, smile a little. Relax.”
    “You’re damned cheerful,” he said with surprise. It was true. The whole evening, she’d bubbled. She was especially beautiful, even in the severe cut of the brown uniform; some women looked good in anything. But it was something else. Susan seemed to be her old self: sly, mocking, mildly sarcastic, full of mischief.
    “You’ve decided to make a career of Army nursing. Congrats!” he said.
    She laughed.
    “You’re divorcing Phil. Right? Am I right?”
    Again, laughter. “It’s a long story,” she said. “A long story.”
    But before she could tell it, an elegant Brit voice crooned to them. “Darlings.”
    It was Leets’s turn to make a face.
    But Tony came ahead confidently, until he seemed to embrace the two Americans.
    “One more of what these chaps are having,” Tony commanded the barman, and turned to press an icy smile on Leets.
    “Sir,” Leets said evenly.
    “Rather a long Thursday, eh?” Tony asked.
    Leets didn’t say a thing.
    “What, three, four hours? Or was it five?”
    “Jim? What—” Susan said.
    Leets looked bleakly off into the crowd.
    “The captain had a rough go of it, I hear. Trying to get in to see—ah, who was it this time? Yours or ours?”
    “Yours,” Leets finally admitted.
    “Of course. Knew it all the time. Major General Sir Colin Gubbins, was it not?”
    “Yes.”
    “Thought so. Head of SOE. Pity he couldn’t see you.”
    “I’m on the list for Monday, the girl said.”
    “I’ll put in a good word for you tomorrow at lunch,” Tony said, smiling maliciously.
    “You bastard,” Leets said.
    “Now stop that kind of talk,” Susan commanded.
    “Susan, would you care to accompany me to lunch with General Sir Colin Gubbins tomor—”
    “Goddamn it, Major, knock it off,” Leets said.
    Tony laughed. “You’re getting a rather peculiar reputation in certain circles,” he cautioned. “You know, he tells anyone this mad scheme he’s dreamed up. Jerry snipers. Quite strange.”
    Leets now felt fully miserable.
    “It wouldn’t hurt a bit to listen to him,” Susan said. “You people have been told things all during the war you wouldn’t listen to. You never listen until it’s too late.”
    Tony stepped back, made a big show of shock. “Dear girl,” he said theatrically, “of course we make mistakes. Of course we’re old fuddy-duddies. That’s what we’re paid for. Think how dangerous we’d be if we knew what we were doing.” He threw back his head and brayed.
    Leets realized the man was quite drunk and beyond caring what he said, and to whom. But, surprisingly,there seemed to be in his act some affection for the miserable American and his girl.
    “Listen, I