Chapter 17
2330 Hours
December 5, 1940
Shannon Seaplane Terminal
Shannon River Estuary
Foynes, Eire (Southwestern Ireland)
Exhausted from the trip, Phil sat quietly in a corner of the quaint Irish Seaplane Terminal, between the small bar and the roaring fire. He’d been awake for 20 hours. He’d danced very close to the edge of a career-ending precipice.
His chest throbbed with pain. His ribs felt like they did when he’d cracked them playing football against Pitt in his junior year at Penn State. God, I hope I haven’t broken my ribs again. The colonel will never understand, Phil worried.
Genero turned awkwardly in the winged-back leather chair, trying to find a more comfortable position. Scraped and swollen, his right hand wouldn’t clench into a fist.
Damn, I might have broken my ha
