years Bangkok had been losing another war, the war against the drug
lords of the Golden Triangle in the northern part of the country, and
now the drug war was high on the agenda of the White House. Washington
was concerned that the resurgence of guerrilla activity in northern
Thailand might somehow be connected with the Golden Triangle’s deadly
trade, in the same way that Marxist rebels in South and Central America
funded their operations with cocaine. For years, heroin traffic in the
region had been controlled by various warlords in the area who, in turn,
answered to a cartel–mostly Chinese–based in Hong Kong.
With the U.S. Navy helping the That army in its operations against
guerrillas, the CIA, the DEA, and other organizations with an interest
in the region could get a good look at the area’s drug trade as well.
Guerrillas and drug smugglers would be using the same trails, even the
same camps. The fact that communist insurgents were operating within
the Golden Triangle at all meant that they were somehow linked with the
local drug lords. No one, including the That army, moved through some
parts of Thailand’s north hill country without their approval.
None of this was discussed openly with Duong, of course. TARPS
reconnaissance of the border region would assist the That army in
putting down the insurrection; whether or not the U.S. Navy pulled
copies of the data for other purposes was, of course, up to them.
After almost an hour of discussion, Duong leaned forward, steepling his
fingers. “I am inclined to accept your offer, Admiral,” he said at
last.
“Particularly if the RTAF has the primary responsibility for protecting
your people. Your … your TARPS aircraft could be based at an airfield
in the area where we could provide ground security as well.”
“That would be satisfactory,” Magruder said. “I would suggest that we
provide you with two aircraft, though, one to carry the TARPS, one as
wingman.” Flying wingman formations was basic to U.S. air tactics, and
Magruder didn’t want the entire responsibility for protecting the TARPS
plane to rest with their That hosts.
Duong nodded. “Two aircraft could hardly be interpreted as major
American assistance,” he said. “And the air base I have in mind is
somewhat remote.”
“Where is it?”
“North of Chiang Mai. It’s a small military base called U Feng, about
twenty kilometers from the border.” He turned to face his aide.
“Colonel, you were just stationed there, were you not?”
Kriangsak nodded. “Yes, sir. Headquarters staff for almost two years.”
“Then you will have all the information these gentlemen need. I’ll
leave that to YOU.”
Whom to send? Magruder wondered. Properly, this should have been a
volunteers-only mission, since whoever went would be missing out on
liberty in Bangkok. That alone could qualify U Feng as hardship duty.
For a recon flight like this, though, he wanted someone with plenty of
experience flying the electronics-laden pod. Most Tomcat drivers were
familiar with TARPS, but some had more experience than others. The name
of Lieutenant Commander Matthew Magruder came to mind.
Magruder smiled. Simply ordering his nephew to take the U Feng mission
might solve several problems at once. He’d heard the rumors and jokes
about VF-95’s skipper, winner of the Navy Cross, the fair-haired
admiral’s nephew.
It was impossible to avoid the ugly specter of favoritism in a situation
like this, and ever since Wonsan, Magruder had been wondering if it
wouldn’t be a good idea to have Tombstone transferred to another
command. Maybe the rumors could be scotched if it was Tombstone who was
ordered to fly up to U Feng for fun and games in the jungles of the
Golden Triangle.
So, Tombstone and his RIO, plus one other Tomcat and crew. A week at U
Feng should be sufficient to map most of the threatened border area.
He hoped Tombstone would understand. A week at U Feng wouldn’t exactly
be a pleasant break from shipboard routine.
2140 hours, 14 January
VF-95 Ready Room, U.S.S. Thomas Jefferson
Tombstone, Batman, Nightmare Marinaro and Price Taggart all sat in the
synthetic leather chairs of the Ready Room, sipping Cokes and swapping
stories. They were on Alert 15, but it had been a quiet night so far