璇玑之心刃·冷血悍将-第91部分

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ce。
The　blue　shuttle　bus　arrived　moments　after　he　walked　up　to　the　covered　pickup　point。　It　was　a　curious　ride。　About　half　the　people　who　boarded　were　uniformed；　and　the　other　half　civilians。　Nobody　talked　to　anyone；　as　though　merely　exchanging　a　pleasantry　or　a　ment　on　the　Washington　Senators‘　continuing　residency　at　the　bottom　of　the　American　League　would　violate　security。　He　smiled　and　shook　his　head　until　he　reflected　on　his　own　secrets　and　intentions。　And　yet　…　Greer　had　given　him　an　opportunity　that　he‘d　not　considered。　Kelly　leaned　back　in　his　seat　and　looked　out　the　window　while　the　other　passengers　on　the　bus　stared　fixedly　forward。
‘They‘re　real　happy；‘　Piaggi　said。　
‘I　told　you　all　along；　man。　It　helps　to　have　the　best　product　on　the　street。‘
‘Not　everybody‘s　happy。　Some　people　are　sitting　on　a　couple　hundred　keys　of　French　stuff；　and　we‘ve　knocked　the　price　down　with　our　special　introductory　offer。‘　
Tucker　allowed　himself　a　good　laugh。　The　‘old　guard‘　had　been　overcharging　for　years。　That　was　monopoly　pricing　for　you。　Anyone　would　have　taken　the　two　of　them　for　businessmen；　or　perhaps　lawyers；　since　there　were　lots　of　both　in　this　restaurant　two　blocks　from　the　new　Garmatz　courthouse。　Piaggi　was　somewhat　better　dressed；　in　Italian　silk；　and　he　made　a　mental　note　to　introduce　Henry　to　his　tailor。　At　least　the　guy　had　learned　how　to　groom　himself。　Next　he　had　to　learn　not　to　dress　too　flashy：　Respectable　was　the　word。　Just　enough　that　people　treated　you　with　deference。　The　flashy　ones；　like　the　pimps；　were　playing　a　dangerous　game　that　they　were　too　dumb　to　understand。
‘Next　shipment；　twice　as　much。　Can　your　friends　handle　it？‘
‘Easy。　The　people　in　Philly　are　especially　happy。　Their　main　supplier　had　a　little　accident‘
‘Yeah；　I　saw　the　paper　yesterday。　Sloppy。　Too　many　people　in　the　crew；　right？‘
‘Henry；　you　just　keep　getting　smarter　and　smarter。　Don‘t　get　too　smart；　okay？　Good　advice；‘　Piaggi　said　with　quiet　emphasis。
‘That‘s　cool；　Tony。　What　I‘m　saying　is；　let‘s　not　make　that　kind　of　mistake　ourselves；　okay？‘
Piaggi　relaxed；　sipping　his　beer。　‘That‘s　right；　Henry。　And　I　don‘t　mind　saying　that　it‘s　nice　to　do　business　with　somebody　who　knows　how　to　organize。　There‘s　a　lot　of　curiosity　about　where　your　stuff　es　from。　I‘m　covering　that　for　you。　Later　on；　though；　if　you　need　more　financing。。。‘
Tucker‘s　eyes　blazed　briefly　across　the　table。　‘No；　Tony。　No　now；　no　forever。‘
‘Okay　for　now。　Something　to　think　about　for　later。‘
Tucker　nodded；　apparently　letting　it　go　at　that；　but　wondering　what　sort　of　move　his　‘partner‘　might　be　planning。　Trust；　in　this　sort　of　enterprise；　was　a　variable　quantity。　He　trusted　Tony　to　pay　on　time。　He‘d　offered　Piaggi　favorable　terms；　which　had　been　honored；　and　the　eggs　this　goose　laid　were　his　real　life　insurance。　He　was　already　at　the　point　that　a　missed　payment　wouldn‘t　harm　his　operation；　and　as　long　as　he　had　a　steady　supply　of　good　heroin；　they‘d　do　business　like　a　business；　which　was　why　he‘d　approached　them　in　the　first　place。　But　there　was　no　real　loyalty　here。　Trust　stopped　at　his　usefulness。　Henry　had　never　expected　any　more　than　that；　but　if　his　associate　ever　started　pressing　on　his　pipeline　。。。
Piaggi　wondered　if　he‘d　pressed　too　far；　wondering　if　Tucker　knew　the　potential　of　what　they　were　doing。　To　control　distribution　on　the　entire　East　Coast；　and　do　so　from　within　a　careful　and　secure　organization；　that　was　like　a　dream　e　true。　Surely　he　would　soon　need　more　capital；　and　his　contacts　were　already　asking　how　they　might　help。　But　he　could　see　that　Tucker　did　not　recognize　the　innocence　of　the　inquiry；　and　if　he　discussed　it　further；　protesting　his　goodwill；　that　would　only　make　things　worse。　And　so　Piaggi　went　back　to　his　lunch　and　decided　to　leave　things　be　for　a　while。　It　was　too　bad。　Tucker　was　a　very　smart　small…timer；　but　still　a　small…timer　at　heart。　Perhaps　he‘d　learn　to　grow。　Henry　could　never　be　‘made；‘　but　he　could　still　bee　an　important　part　of　the　organization。
‘Next　Friday　okay？‘　Tucker　asked。
‘Fine。　Keep　it　secure。　Keep　it　smart。‘
‘You　got　it；　man。‘
It　was　an　uneventful　flight；　a　Piedmont　737　out　of　Friendship　International　Airport。　Kelly　rode　coach；　and　the　stewardess　brought　him　a　light　lunch。　Flying　over　America　was　so　different　from　his　other　adventures　aloft。　It　surprised　him　how　many　swimming　pools　there　were。　Everywhere　you　flew；　lifting　off　from　the　airport；　even　over　the　rolling　hills　of　Tennessee；　the　overhead　sun　would　sparkle　off　little　square　patches　of　chlorine…blue　water　surrounded　by　green　grass。　His　country　appeared　to　be　so　benign　a　place；　so　fortable；　until　you　got　closer。　But　at　least　you　didn‘t　have　to　watch　for　tracer　fire。
The　Avis　counter　had　a　car　waiting；　along　with　a　map。　It　turned　out　that　he　could　have　flown　into　Panama　City；　Florida；　but　New　Orleans；　he　decided；　would　suit　him　just　fine。　Kelly　tossed　both　his　suitcases　into　the　trunk　and　headed　east。　It　was　rather　like　driving　his　boat；　though　somewhat　more　hectic；　dead　time　in　which　he　could　let　his　mind　work；　examining　possibilities　and　procedures；　his　eyes　sweeping　the　traffic　while　his　mind　saw　something　else　entirely。　That　was　when　he　started　to　smile；　a　thin；　posed　expression　that　he　never　thought　about　while　his　imagination　took　a　careful　and　measured　look　at　the　next　few　weeks。
Four　hours　after　landing；　having　passed　through　the　lower　ends　of　Mississippi　and　Alabama；　he　stopped　his　car　at　the　main　gate　of　Eglin　AFB。　A　fitting　place　for　the　KINGPIN　troopers　to　have　trained；　the　heat　and　humidity　were　an　exact　match　with　the　country　they‘d　ultimately　invaded；　hot　and　moist。　Kelly　waited　outside　the　guard　post　for　a　blue　Air　Force　sedan　to　meet　him。　When　it　did；　an　officer　got　out。
‘Mr　Clark？‘
‘Yes。‘　He　handed　over　his　ID　folder。　The　officer　actually　saluted　him；　which　was　a　novel　experience。　Clearly　someone　was　overly　impressed　with　CIA。　This　young　officer　had　probably　never　interacted　with　anybody　from　there。　Of　course；　Kelly　had　actually　bothered　to　wear　a　tie　in　the　hope　of　looking　as　respectable　as　possible。
‘If　you‘ll　follow　me；　please；　sir。‘　The　officer；　Captain　Griffin；　led　him　to　a　first…floor　room　at　the　Bachelor　Officers　Quarters；　which　was　somewhat　like　a　medium…quality　motel　and　agreeably　close　to　the　beach。　After　helping　Kelly　get　unpacked；　Griffin　walked　him　to　the　Officers‘　Club；　where；　he　said；　Kelly　had　visitor‘s　privileges。　All　he　had　to　do　was　show　his　room　key。
‘I　can‘t　knock　the　hospitality；　Captain。‘　Kelly　felt　obligated　to　buy　the　first　beer。　‘You　know　why　I‘m　here？‘
‘I　work　intelligence；‘　Griffin　replied。
‘KINGPIN？‘　As　though　in　a　movie；　the　officer　looked　around　before　replying。
‘Yes；　sir。　We　have　all　the　documents　you　need　ready　for　you。　I　hear　you　worked　special　ops　over　there；　too。‘
‘Correct。‘
‘I　have　one　question；　sir；‘　the　Captain　said。
‘Shoot；‘　Kelly　invited　between　sips。　He‘d　dried　out　on　the　drive　from　New　Orleans。
‘Do　they　know　who　burned　the　mission？‘
‘No；‘　Kelly　replied；　and　on　a　whim　added；　‘Maybe　I　can　pick　up　something　on　that。‘
‘My　big　brother　was　in　that　camp；　we　think。　He‘d　be　home　now　except　for　whatever　。。。‘　
‘Motherfucker；‘　Kelly　said　helpfully。　The　Captain　actually　blushed。
‘If　you　identify　him；　then　what？‘
‘Not　my　department；‘　Kelly　replied；　regretting　his　earlier　ment。　‘When　do　I　start？‘　
‘Supposed　to　be　tomorrow　morning；　Mr　Clark；　but　the　documents　are　all　in　my　office。‘
‘I　need　a　quiet　room；　a　pot　of　coffee；　maybe　some　sandwiches。‘
‘I　think　we　can　handle　that；　sir。‘
‘Then　let　me　get　started。‘
Ten　minutes　later；　Kelly　got　his　wish。　Captain　Griffin　had　supplied　him　with　a　yellow　legal　pad　and　a　battery　of　pencils。　Kelly　started　off　with　the　first　set　of　reconnaissance　photographs；　these　taken　by　an　RF…101　Voodoo；　and　as　with　SENDER　GREEN；　the　discovery　of　Song　Tay　had　been　a　plete　accident；　the　random　discovery　of　an　unexpected　thing　in　a　place　expected　to　have　been　a　minor　military　training　installation。　But　in　the　yard　of　the　camp　had　been　letters　stomped　in　the　dirt；　or　arranged　with　stones　or　hanging　laundry：　‘K‘　for　‘e　and　get　us　out　of　here；‘　and　other　such　marks　that　had　been　made　under　the　eyes　of　the　guards。　The　list　of　people　who　had　bee　involved　was　a　genuine　who‘s　who　of　the　special　operations　munity；　names　that　he　knew　only　by　reputation。
The　configuration　of　the　camp　was　not　terribly　different　from　the　one　in　which　he　was　interested　now；　he　saw；　making　appropriate　notes。　One　document　surprised　him　greatly。　It　was　a　memo　from　a　three…star　to　a　two…star；　indicating　that　the　Song　Tay　mission；　though　important　in　and　of　itself；　was　also　a　means　to　an　end。　The　three…star　had　wanted　to　validate　his　ability　to　get　special…ops　teams　into　North　Vietnam。　That；　he　said；　would　open　all　sorts　of　possibilities；　one　of　which　was　a　certain　dam　with　a　generator　room　。。。　oh；　yeah；　Kelly　realized。　The　three…star　wanted　a　hunting　license；　to　insert　several　teams　in…country　and　play　the　same　games　OSS　had　behind　German　lines　in　the　Second　World　War。　The　memo　concluded　with　a　note　that　political　factors　made　the　latter　aspect　of　POLAR　CIRCLE　…　one　of　the　first　cover　names　for　what　became　Operation　KINGPIN　…　extremely　sensitive。　Some　would　see　it　as　a　widening　of　the　war。　Kelly　looked　up；　finishing　his　second　cup　of　coffee。　What　was　it　about　politicians？…　he　wondered。　The　enemy　could　do　anything　he　wanted；　but　our　side　was　always　trembling　at　the　possibility　of　being　seen　to　widen　the　war。　He‘d　even　seen　some　of　that　at　his　level。　The　PHOENIX　project；　the　deliberate　targeting　of　the　enemy‘s　political　infrastructure；　was　a　matter　of　the　greatest　sensitivity。　Hell；　they　wore　uniforms；　didn‘t　they？　A　man　in　a　bat　zone　wearing　a　uniform　was　fair　game　in　anyone‘s　book　of　rules；　wasn‘t　he？　The　other　side　took　out　local　mayors　and　schoolteachers　with　savage　abandon。　There　was　a　blatant　double　standard　to　the　way　the　war　had　been　conducted。　It　was　a　troubling　thought；　but　Kelly　set　it　aside　as　he　turned　back　to　the　second　pile　of　documents。
Assembling　the　team　and　planning　the　operation　had　taken　half　of　forever。　Good　men　all；　however。　Colonel　Bull　Simons；　another　man　he　knew　only　by　his　reputation　as　one　of　the　toughest　sharp…end　bat　manders　any　Army　had　ever　produced。　Dick　Meadows；　a　younger　man　in　the　same　mold。　Their　only　waking　thought　was　to　bring　harm　and　distraction　to　the　enemy；　and　they　were　skilled　in　doing　so　with　small　forces　and　minimum　exposure。　How　they　must　have　lusted　for　this　mission；　Kelly　thought。　But　the　oversight　they‘d　had　to　deal　with　。。。　Kelly　counted　ten　separate　documents　to　higher　authority；　promising　success　…　as　though　a　memo　could　make　such　a　claim　in　the　harsh　world　of　bat　operations　…　before　he　stopped　bothering　to　count　them。　So　many　of　them　used　the　same　language　until　he　suspected　that　a　form　letter　had　been　ginned　up　by　some　unit　clerk。　Probably　someone　who‘d　run　out　of　fresh　words　for　his　colonel；　and　then　expressed　a　sergeant‘s　contempt　for　the　interlocutors　by　giving　them　the　same　words　every　time；　in　the　expectation　that　the　repeats　would　never　be　noticed　…　and　they　hadn‘t　been。　Kelly　spent　three　hours　going　through　reams　of　paper　between　Eglin　and　CIA；　concerns　of　deskbound　bean…counters　distracting　the　men　in　green　suits；　‘helpful‘　suggestions　from　people　who　probably　wore　ties　to　bed；　all　of　which　had　required　answers　from　the　operators　who　carried　guns　。。。　and　so　KINGPIN　had　grown　from　a　relatively　minor　and　dramatic　insertion　mission　to　a　Cecil　B。　DeMille　epic　which　had　more　than　once　gone　to　the　White　House；　there　being　known　to　the　President‘s　National　Security　Council　staff—
And　that‘s　where　Kelly　stopped；　at　two…thirty　in　the　morning；　defeated　by　the　next　pile　of　paper。　He　locked　everything　up　in　the　receptacles　provided　and　jogged　back　to　his　room　at　the　Q；　leaving　notice　for　a　seven　o‘clock　walk…up　call。
It　was　surprising　how　little　sleep　you　needed　when　there　was　important　work　to　be　done。　When　the　phone　rang　at　seven；　Kelly　bounced　from　the　bed；　and　fifteen　minutes　later　was　running　along　the　beach　barefoot；　in　a　pair　of　shorts。　He　was　not　alone。　He　didn‘t　know　how　many　people　were　based　at　Eglin；　but　they　were　not　terribly　different　from　himself。　Some　had　to　be　special　operations　types；　doing　things　that　he　could　only　guess　at。　You　could　tell　them　from　the　somewhat　wider　shoulders。　Running　was　only　part　of　their　fitness　game。　Eyes　met　and　evaluated　others；　and　expressions　were　exchanged　as　each　man　knew　what　the　other　was　thinking　…　How　tough　is　he；　really？　…　as　an　automatic　mental　exercise；　and　Kelly　smiled　to　himself　that　he　was　enough　a　part　of　the　munity　that　he　merited　that　kind　of　petitive　respect。　A　large　breakfast　and　shower　left　him　fully　refreshed；　enough　to　get　him　back　to　his　clerk‘s　work；　and　on　the　walk　back　to　the　office　building；　he　asked　himself；　surprisingly；　why　he‘d　ever　left　this　munity　of　men。　It　was；　after　all；　the　only　real　home　he‘d　known　after　leaving　Indianapolis。
And　so　the　days　continued。　He　allowed　himself　two　days　of　six…hours‘　sleep；　but　never　more　than　twenty　minutes　for　a　meal；　and　not　a　single　drink　after　that　first　beer；　though　his　exercise　periods　grew　to　several　hours　per　day；　mainly；　he　told　himself；　to　firm　up。　The　real　reason　was　one　that　he　never　quite　admitted。　He　wanted　to　be　the　toughest　man　on　that　early…morning　beach；　not　just　an　associate　part　of　the　small；　elite　munity。　Kelly　was　a　SEAL　again；　more　than　that；　a　bullfrog；　and　more　still；　he　was　again　being　Snake。　By　the　third　or　fourth；　morning；　he　could　see　the　change。　His　face　and　form　were　now　an　expected　part　of　the　morning　routine　for　the　others。　The　anonymity　only　made　it　better；　that　and　the　scars　of　battle；　and　some　would　wonder　what　he‘d　done　wrong；　what　mistakes　he‘d　made。　Then　they　would　remind　themselves　that　he　was　still　in　the　business；　scars　and　all；　not　knowing　that　he‘d　left　it　…　quit；　Kelly‘s　mind　corrected；　with　not　a　little　guilt。
The　paperwork　was　surprisingly　stimulating。　He‘d　never　before　tried　to　figure　things　out　in　quite　this　way；　and　he　was　surprised　to　find　he　had　a　talent　for　it。　The　operational　planning；　he　saw；　had　been　a　thing　of　beauty　flawed　by　time　and　repetition；　like　a　beautiful　girl　kept　too　long　in　her　house　by　a　jealous　father。　Every　day　the　mockup　of　the　Song　Tay　camp　had　been　erected　by　the　players；　and　each　day；　sometimes　more　than　once；　taken　down　lest　Soviet　reconnaissance　satellites　take　note　of　what　was　there。　How　debilitating　that　must　have　been　to　the　soldiers。　And　it　had　all　taken　so　long；　the　soldiers　practicing　while　the　higher…ups　had　dithered；　pondering　the　intelligence　information　so　long　that。。。　the　prisoners　had　been　moved。
‘Damn；‘　Kelly　whispered　to　himself。　It　wasn‘t　so　much　that　the　operation　might　have　been　betrayed。　It　had　just　taken　too　long　。。。　and　that　meant　that　if　it　had　been　betrayed；　the　leaker　had　probably　been　one　of　the　last　people　to　discover　what　was　afoot。　He　set　that　thought　aside　with　a　penciled　question。
The　operation　itself　had　been　meticulously　planned；　everything　done　just　right；　a　primary　plan　and　a　number　of　alternates；　with　each　segment　of　the　team　so　fully　briefed　and　trained　that　every　man　could　do　every　function　in　his　sleep。　Crashing　a　huge　Sikorsky　heli