"God help me, that's the weirdest thing I've seen in years. He certainly is a character. What are you going to do?"

"Send the damn thing to London for Churchill's signature, of course." Mountbatten turned back in the entrance and said to Major Campbell, "Ian, I'm going to give you a chance to have dinner at the Savoy. I want you on your way to London as soon as possible with a dispatch from me for the Prime Minister. Did I hear another plane land?"

"Yes, sir, a Dakota from Assam."

"Good. Give orders for it to be refueled and turned around." Mountbatten glanced at the Corporal. "You can take Tanner with you."

"Fine, sir."

Campbell shuffled the papers to put them in the file and Mountbatten said, "Three copies. One for Mao, another for the Prime Minister, and the third for President Roosevelt. Didn't I sign four?"

"I took the liberty of making an extra copy, sir, just in case of accidents," Campbell said.

"Good man, Ian," Mountbatten nodded. "On your way then. Only one night out at the Savoy, then straight back."

"Of course, sir."

Campbell saluted and went out followed by Tanner. Stillwell lit a cigarette. "He's a strange one, Campbell."

"Lost his eye at Dunkirk," Mountbatten said. "Got a well-earned Military Cross. Best aide I ever had."

"What's all this Laird of Loch Dhu crap?" Stillwell said. "You English are really crazy."

"Ah, but Campbell isn't English, he's Scots, and more than that, he's a Highlander. As Laird of Loch Dhu he heads a sect of Clan Campbell and that, Joe, is a tradition that existed before the Vikings sailed to America."

He walked to the door and stared out at the driving rain. Stillwell joined him. "Are we going to win, Louis?"

"Oh, yes," Mountbatten nodded. "It's what will come after that bothers me."