"What would a personnel bureau do?" the jaygee said patiently. "We recruit, classify, assign, promote and train personnel."
"Paperwork, huh? No wonder you don't know how to shoot or drive."
"If I didn't need you to cover my back, I'd shove this MG down your silly throat. For your information, gangster, all officers do a tour of duty on paperwork before they're assigned to their permanent branch. I'm going into the pigboats."
"Why?"
"Family. My father commands a sub. He's Captain Van Dellen."
Oh, God. Van Dellen. The sub commander Grinnel—and he—had murdered. The kid hadn't heard yet that his father had been "lost" in an emergency dive.
The rain ceased to fall; the pattering drizzle gave way to irregular, splashing drops from leaves and branches.
"Van Dellen," Charles said. "There's something you ought to know."
"It'll keep," the jaygee answered in a grim whisper. The bolt of his gun clicked. "I hear them out there."