Bayerly struggled against the grip of the men supporting him. “I can do
it myself!” he mumbled.
The car was already waiting for them, its engine running. One of the
colonel’s men opened the rear door. “Inside.”
“I’m not going’ with you gooks!” Bayerly said, his voice rising once
more.
“Get your goddamned hands off-” He heard a metallic snick-snick behind
him.
Turning, he found himself staring into the black muzzle of a Colt .45
automatic. “What the hell …?”
“Inside!” the That said, his voice a menacing hiss.
“What is this? You can’t-”
Something struck Bayerly from behind, a smashing blow to the back of his
head which sent him crumpling to the pavement. Dimly, he was aware of
hands grabbing his shoulders and legs, of several men stuffing him into
the open backseat door of the car. Then darkness closed in and he was
aware of nothing more.
CHAPTER 15
2000 hours, 18 January
Communications Center, U.S.S. Thomas Jefferson
“Washington’s on the line, Admiral,” the aide said, extending the
telephone. “The CNO.”
Magruder accepted the handset reluctantly. With no way of knowing how
Washington was going to jump on this one, he was not looking forward to
the conversation. He glanced at a set of clocks on the bulkhead.
Twenty-hundred hours, eight in the evening, was eight in the morning,
Washington time. “Good morning, Admiral,” he said.
“More like good evening where you are, Tom,” a voice replied. There was
a faint hiss of static over the multiple satellite relay between
Thailand and the U.S. east coast.
Admiral Fletcher T. Grimes was the Chief of Naval Operations and, as
such, was the Navy’s representative on the Joint Chiefs of Staff. In
fact, American Congressional law had de-emphasized the CNO’s operational
responsibilities and he no longer exercised personal command over the
country’s naval forces. Both the Secretary of Defense and the Secretary
of the Navy, however, knew that Magruder and Grimes were old friends,
and had directed that the CNO serve as the President’s link with his
commander in the field this time.
“You have my report, I take it,” Magruder said.
“On my desk in front of me. I briefed the President this morning. It
looks like you’re going to be center stage again, Tom.”
“I understand, sir.” The Wonsan affair had thrust the Jefferson battle
group into the public eye three months earlier. Now, the political
situation in Thailand was deteriorating rapidly. If the President was
to have any hand in protecting America’s most important ally in the
region, he would have to act quickly … and that meant calling on
CBG-14 once more.
“The President met with the That ambassador yesterday, Tom. Bangkok has
formally asked for our assistance over there.”
“That doesn’t quite square with what we’ve been getting over here,
Admiral. The story we’re getting is more along the lines of ‘Hands off,
we can do it ourselves.””
“Tom, it is the considered opinion of several of the President’s
advisors that there may be … elements within the That military, a
faction which could be planning a coup.”
“We’ve certainly heard rumors to that effect here,” Magruder said, “I
included that in my report.”
“Yes, I saw. Tom, the National Security Council has advised the
President that a military coup in Thailand at this time could lead to a
severe destabilization throughout the area. We can’t allow that to
happen … not unchallenged.”
“Understood. What are the President’s orders?”
“They’ll be coming down through the chain of command later today. I can
tell you, though, how they’ll read. Provide the legitimate That
government with full support, air and land.”
“That won’t help if we can’t get local military cooperation.”
“We’re working on that.”
“We also can’t help much if we don’t have a target.”
“We’re working on that too. The important thing is to let the good guys
know we’re backing them. The opposition will be trying to force a wedge
between us and the Bangkok government, maybe try to discredit us. It’s
all laid out in your orders.”
“Yes, sir,” Magruder said dryly. Orders from the Joint Chiefs generally
weighed in like encyclopedias … with enough contradictory and
generally ass-covering clauses to keep field commanders guessing for