Kelly didn’t awaken until 1800 hours. After showering, he headed below to find the Marines. He owed them an explanation, he thought. Somebody did. They were in the same space. The sand-table model was still there as well.
‘I was right up here,’ he said, finding the rubber band with two eyes on it.
‘How many bad guys?’
‘Four trucks, they came in this road, stopped here,’ Kelly explained. ‘They were digging in crew-served weapons here and here. They sent people up my hill. I saw another team heading this way right before I moved.’
‘Jesus,’ a squad leader noted. ‘Right on our approach route.’
‘Yeah,’ Kelly confirmed. ‘Anyway, that’s why.’
‘How’d they know to send in the reinforcements?’ a corporal asked.
‘Not my department.’
‘Thanks, Snake,’ the squad leader said, looking from the model that would soon be tossed over the side. ‘Tough call, wasn’t it?’
Kelly nodded. ‘I’m sorry, pal. Jesus God, I’m sorry.’
‘Mr Clark, I got a baby due in two months. ‘Cept for you, well…’ The Marine extended his hand across the model.
‘Thank you, sir.’ Kelly took it.
‘Mr Clark, sir?’ A sailor stuck his head into the compartment. ‘The admirals are looking for you. Up in officer country, sir.’
‘Doctor Rosen,’ Sam said, lifting the phone.
‘Hi, doctor. This is Sergeant Douglas.’
‘What can I do for you?’
‘We’re trying to track down your friend Kelly. He isn’t answering his phone. Do you have any idea where he is?’
‘I haven’t seen him in a long time,’ the surgeon said guardedly.
‘You know anybody who has?’
‘I’ll check around. What’s the story?’ Sam added, asking what he knew might be a highly inconvenient question, wondering what sort of answer he might get.
‘I, uh, can’t say, sir. I hope you understand.’
‘Ummhmm. Yeah, okay, I’ll ask.’
‘Feeling better?’ Ritter asked first.
‘Some,’ Kelly allowed. ‘What’s the story on the Russian?’
‘Clark, you just might have done something useful:’ Ritter gestured to a table with no fewer than ten piles of documents on them.
‘They’re planning to kill the prisoners,’ Greer said.
‘Who? The Russians?’ Kelly asked.
‘The Vietnamese. The Russians want them alive. This guy you picked up is trying to take them home,’ Ritter said, lifting a sheet of paper. ‘Here’s his draft of the letter justifying it.’
‘Is that good or bad?’
The outside noises were different, Zacharias thought. More of them, too. Shouts with purpose to them, though he didn’t know what purpose. For the first day in a month, Grishanov hadn’t visited him, even for a few minutes. The loneliness he felt became even more acute, and his only company was the realization that he’d given to the Soviet Union a graduate-level course in continental air-defense. He hadn’t meant to do it.. He hadn’t even known what he was doing. That was no consolation, however. The Russian had played him for a fool, and Colonel Robin Zacharias, USAF, bad just given it all up, outsmarted by some kindness and fellowship from an atheist … and drink. Stupidity and sin, such a likely combination of human weaknesses, and he’d done it all.
He didn’t even have tears for his shame. He was beyond that, sitting on the floor of his cell, staring at the rough, dirty concrete between his bare feet. He’d broken faith with his God and his country, Zacharias told himself as his evening meal was pushed through the slot at the bottom of his door. Thin, bodiless pumpkin soup and maggoty rice. He made no move towards it.
Grishanov knew he was a dead man. They wouldn’t give him back. They couldn’t even admit that they had him. He’d disappear, as other Russians in Vietnam had disappeared, some at SAM sites, some doing other things for those ungrateful little bastards. Why were they feeding him so well? It had to be a large ship, but it was also his first time at sea. Even the decent food was hard to get down, but he swore not to disgrace himself by succumbing to motion sickness mixed with fear. He was a fighter pilot, a good one who had faced death before, mainly at the controls of a malfunctioning aircraft. He remembered wondering at the time what they’d tell his Marina. He wondered now. A letter? What? Would his family be looked after by his fellow officers in PVO Strany? Would the pension be sufficient?
‘Are you kidding me?’
‘Mr Clark, the world can be a very complicated place. Why did you think the Russians like them?’
‘They give them weapons and training, don’t they?’
Ritter stubbed out his Winston. ‘We give those things to people all over the world. They’re not all nice folks, but we have to work with them. It’s the same for the Russians, maybe less so, but still pretty much the same. Anyway, this Grishanov guy was going to a considerable effort to keep our people alive.’ Ritter held up another sheet. ‘Here’s a request for better food – for a doctor, even.’
‘So what do we do with him?’ Admiral Podulski asked.
‘That, gentlemen, is our department,’ Ritter said, looking at Greer, who nodded.
‘Wait a minute,’ Kelly objected. ‘He was pumping them for information.’
‘So?’ Ritter asked. “That was his job.’
‘We’re getting away from the real issue here,’ Maxwell said.
James Greer poured some coffee for himself. ‘I know. We have to move fast.’
‘And finally …’ Ritter tapped a translation of the Vietnamese message. ‘We know that somebody burned the mission. We’re going to track that bastard down.’
Kelly was still too drugged from sleep to follow it all, much less see far enough into the future to realize how he had assumed his place in the center of the affair.
‘Where’s John?’
Sandy O’Toole looked up from her paperwork. It was close to the end of her shift, and Professor Rosen’s question brought to the fore a worry that she’d managed to suppress for over a week.
‘Out of the country. Why?’
‘I got a call today from the police. They’re looking for him.’
Oh, God. ‘Why?’
‘He didn’t say.’ Rosen looked around. They were alone at the nurses’ station. ‘Sandy, I know he’s been doing things -I mean, I think I know, but I haven’t -‘
‘I haven’t heard from him, either. What are we supposed to do?’
Rosen grimaced and looked away before replying. ‘As good citizens, we’re supposed to cooperate with the police – but we’re not doing that, are we? No idea where he is?’
‘He told me, but I’m not supposed to – he’s doing something with the government … over in …’ She couldn’t finish, couldn’t bring herself to say the word. ‘?? gave a number I can call. I haven’t used it.’
‘I would,’ Sam told her, and left.
It wasn’t right. He was off doing something scary and important, only to come back to a police investigation. It seemed to Nurse O’Toole that the unfairness of life had gotten as bad as it could. She was wrong.
‘Pittsburgh?’
‘That’s what he said,’ Henry confirmed.
‘It’s cute, by the way, having him as your man on the inside. Very professional,’ Piaggi said with respect.
‘He said we need to take care of it quick, like. She hasn’t said much yet.’
‘She saw it all?’ Piaggi didn’t have to add that he didn’t think that very professional at all. ‘Henry, keeping people in line is one thing. Making them into witnesses is another.’
‘Tony, I’m going to take care of that, but we need to handle this problem right quick, y’dig?’ It seemed to Henry Tucker that he was in the stretch run, and over the finish line were both safety and prosperity. That five more people had to die to get him across that line was a small matter after the race he’d already run.
‘Go on.’
‘The family name is Brown. Her name is Doris. Her father’s name is Raymond.’
‘You sure of this?’
‘The girls talk to each other. I got the street name and everything. You got connections. I need you to use ’em fast.’
Piaggi copied down the information. ‘Okay. Our Philly connections can handle it. It’s not going to be cheap, Henry.’
‘I didn’t expect it would be.’
* * *
The flight deck looked very empty. All four of the aircraft briefly assigned to Ogden were gone now, and the deck reassumed its former status as the ship’s unofficial town square. The stars were the same as before, now that the ship was again under clear skies, and a sliver of a waning moon was high in the sky in these early hours. No sailors were out now, however. Those awake at this hour were on duty, but for Kelly and the Marines the day/night cycle was askew, and the gray steel walls of their spaces were too confining for the thoughts they had. The ship’s wake was a curious luminescent green from the photoplankton stirred up by the ship’s screws, and left a long trail showing where she’d been. Half a dozen men stood well aft, staring at it without words.