The President’s Daughter

When Teddy went into the museum complex at Fort Lansing, he was impressed. It was modern and airconditioned, with tiled floors and great murals of combat scenes on the walls. He avoided reception and walked along the main corridor until he came to an office with a sign saying Curator on it. He knocked and opened the door and found a highly attractive black woman seated behind a desk at the window.

She glanced up. “Can I help you?”

“I was looking for the curator, Mary Kelly.”

“That’s me.” She smiled. “Are you Mr. Grant from Columbia?”

“Well, yes . . . and no. I am Mr. Grant, but I’m not from the history department at Columbia.” Teddy opened his wallet and took out his card and dropped it in front of her.

Mary Kelly examined the card and the shock was physical, that much was obvious. “Mr. Grant, what is this?”

“I’ve got a Presidential authorization here if you’d like to see it.”

He took it from an envelope, unfolded it, and passed it across. Mary Kelly read it aloud. “My secretary, Mr. Edward Grant, is on a mission on behalf of the White House that is of the utmost importance. Any help offered would be deeply appreciated by the President of the United States.”

She looked up. “Oh, my God!”

He removed the authorization from her fingers, refolded it, and put it back in the envelope. “I shouldn’t have told you, but I’m taking a chance because I don’t have time to fool around. Even now I can’t tell you the full story. Maybe one day.”

She smiled slowly. “How can I help?”

“You have the records of a number of airborne regiments that passed through here during the Vietnam War.”

“That’s right.”

“One of them was the 801st. I’d like to check the list of officers serving with that regiment from, say, nineteen sixty-seven until seventy.”

“What name are you looking for?”

“I don’t have a name.”

“Then what do you have?”

“Only that he’s Jewish.”

“Well, that covers quite a bit of territory. There were a lot of Jewish people in the army during the war. The draft affected everybody, Mr. Grant.”

“I know. It’s an incredible long shot. Will you help me?”

She took a deep breath. “Of course I will. This way,” and she led the way out.

The archives were in the basement and they had it to themselves. There was only the gentle hum of airconditioning as Mary Kelly examined the microfilm record, listing names on a pad with her right hand. She sat back.

“There you are. For the four years, nineteen sixty-seven up to and including seventy, there are twenty-three officers listed as being of the Jewish faith.”

Teddy examined the list name by name, but it was meaningless. He shook his head. “No damn good. I should have known.”

She was distressed for him and it showed. “And you’ve no other information?”

“Well, he served in the Israeli Army in the Yom Kippur War in nineteen seventy-three.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so? We’ll have that on his back-up record. The Pentagon requires that a record be kept when American military personnel serve with another country’s army.”

Teddy said, “And you can check on that?”

“Quite simply. I have a small internal computer here. It’s not mainline. It’s to facilitate our own records. Over here.” She went and sat in front of a screen and tapped the keys. “Yes, here we are. Only one officer serving with the 801st went on to serve with the Israeli Army. Captain Daniel Levy, born nineteen forty-five in New York, left the army in nineteen-seventy.”

“Bingo!” Teddy said, a kind of awe in his voice. “That’s got to be him.”

“A hero,” she said. “Two Silver Stars. Father Samuel, mother Rachel, are listed as next of kin, but that was a long time ago. The father was a New York attorney. The address was Park Avenue, so they must be pretty wealthy with an address like that.”

“Is that it?” Teddy said. “No more?”

“Nothing that we can help you with.” She frowned slightly. “It really is important, isn’t it?”

“It could actually save someone’s life.” He grabbed her hand and shook it. “When I can, I’ll come back, I promise, and maybe then you’ll be able to hear the full story, but for now, I must return to Washington. If you’d show me the way out, I’d appreciate it.”

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