“Whoa... whoa!!” he shouted out loud.
Terrified at the outburst Si Lei turned to Sam Lin and yelled, “What is it Brother? What did you find?”
“You’ll never believe it Si Lei!!! You’ll never believe it!!! I don’t even believe what I am seeing myself!!!”
“What? What? Tell me Brother, what is it!”
“One of the subject’s name they used mind control on was — ”
“Who? Sam Lin who?”
Sam Lin slowly read the name, “OSWALD, LEE HARVEY!!”
The time was 11:05 p.m., Saturday night, December 1, 2012.
Chapter Thirty-One
THE PHONE CALL
Walking across the den towards the bedroom Baba was startled by the ringtone on her husband’s cell phone. Captain Scarburg had changed it to a rendition of The Stars and Stripes Forever.
“For goodness sakes Robert, I thought John Philip Sousa’s band was marching through the house. Facetiously she said, “Couldn’t you have picked a louder ring?” she said smiling at the Captain, “who could be calling at this late hour?”
“Sorry Hon, needed something loud to get my attention - would you mind answering it for me?”
“Baba, may I, please speak to the Captain, it’s urgent?” said Sam Lin on the other end of the phone. Her name was actually Barbara, but since the days when grandson Forrest called here “Baba” as a young lad, the name stuck, now everyone referred to her with the same name. Funny thing, one of the few nicknames, Captain Scarburg did not give to someone.
“Who is it Hon?”
“It’s Sam Lin. He says it is urgent, he needs to speak with you.”
Sitting straight up in his recliner the Captain asked her to toss him his phone...“Yes Sam Lin... What...? Oh I see. Yes... You know I have seen the name MK-ULTRA before... Do you know what it is? Good... What about Rousseau? Uh huh... right... Are you at the airport now? Okay, get the next flight out - don’t explain any further. We do not need to discuss this over the phone, we never know who might be listening. You and Si Lei can explain when you both get here. Looks like you might have stumbled onto something big. Good... see you both in a day or two. Goodbye.”
“Are the boys okay? I sure was glad to hear they were not killed in the plane crash,” Baba said returning from the kitchen.
“Well they are still alive if that is worth anything, but yeah, they are doing as well as could be expected. They are taking the first available flight out, and will be on their way home with some very valuable information concerning Ryan Rousseau, and a project named MK-ULTRA. The name MK-ULTRA was written on a napkin in Jack Ruby’s Dallas Carousel Club. One of the Mafia guys had written it - we knew it was important and was connected to the CIA in Bangkok, but we did not understand what it meant. I believe the boys may have discovered the answer. Hon, pitch me the phone book, would you? I have to call the guys over at the Hilton Congress Inn.”
Baba questioned her husband about the lateness of the hour and the impropriety of calling the fellows after they had probably already gone to bed. The Captain responded by laughing and commenting they probably were not even in their rooms. He said if he actually wanted to talk to them, he should start calling the local bars and lounges. Both LJ and Rocky abhorred carrying a cell-phone, so that was not an option. He called the hotel and asked for Lonnie Joe’s room as predicted, no answer. Asking the hotel desk clerk for Rocky Jollett, the desk clerk remarked they were probably together, but he would buzz the room never the less. He listened as the in-room phone rang for the first, second and third time. As he was beginning to give up on contacting the guys and ready to hang up he heard the click of the receiver being picked up, “Hello,” said a female voice.
“Sorry, I thought I was connected to Jacque Jollett’s room — ”
Before he could finish, the voice on the other end replied, “Grandpa! Is that you?”
“Gabby...? Gabby...! Is that you girl?”
“I asked you first Grandpa.”
“Sure granddaughter you know it’s me. What are you doing there... never mind, could I please speak to Rocky.” Gabby handed the phone to Jacque.
“It’s Grandpa, he wants to talk to you.”
“Yes Captain, what can I do for you?”
“Rocky, I apologize for calling you so late, but I have some information I thought couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”
“No... forget it Captain... I wasn’t asleep. In fact, we... I... I... mean I... was just getting out of the shower. What can I do for you?”
The Captain thought about this for a second, but did not let his mind dwell on Rocky’s comment; instead he continued, “Rocky I just got a call from Sam Lin in Bangkok. He and Si Lei uncovered some information I believe has a bearing on you and LJ’s next assignment.”
“What was the information?”
“Not really sure Rocky, I did not want to discuss much with him over the phone - too many ears if you know what I mean. Sam Lin told me he and Si Lei had found something very important in Bangkok, so when they get back I would like you and Lonnie Joe to meet me in my office and we will discuss it. I told them to catch the next flight out, so I suppose they will be leaving sometime Sunday afternoon, their time. If so, they will be arriving tomorrow, be in my office Monday morning. Oh, by the way, I could not reach LJ would you fill him in on our plans and extend my regrets for not being able to talk with him in person.”
“That’s okay Captain, he came by here earlier trying to get me to go clubbing with him, but I had a prior engagement and could not go, but I’ll be sure to relay your message to him when he gets back.”
“That sounds good. My calendar is clear Monday, you two be there by 8:00 A.M. Just tell Krista I am expecting you both. Until then... later...”
The time was 12:17 a.m. early Sunday morning, December 2, 2012.
Chapter Thirty-Two
THE GANGS ALL HERE
It was Monday morning in Washington, D.C., Captain Scarburg was arriving at his office for another workweek. “Good morning Krissy, how was your weekend?”
“Good... and yours?”
“Interesting... very interesting.”
Before he could offer an explanation, Krista replied, “Captain, Sam Lin and Si Lei are waiting for you in the conference room - they were here waiting when I arrived this morning.”
“Great! Glad they got home safely. Oh, Krissy, LJ and Rocky should be here soon just buzz’em in when they arrive. Another thing - call downstairs and get Forrest to come up here this morning also. I need them all together for this meeting.”
Entering the conference room Captain Scarburg could see Sam Lin and Si Lei had taken over his large mahogany table. Papers and notes were spread from one end of the table to the other; some papers had even fallen from the table to the floor. Down at one end sat the satchel once belonging to Doctor Joseph Rusnak. Dried bloodstains were still evident on its brown leather exterior. Both brothers were fumbling through the collection of Dr. Rusnak’s notes and papers to the point they were so engrossed in the information they did not notice the Captain had entered the room.
“Sam Lin, Si Lei take a break,” the Captain laughingly said to the two brothers, as he walked across the room toward them.
Startled, Sam Lin responded, “Oh, hello Captain. This stuff is just so interesting our minds were somewhere else. Just come and see, you won’t believe the things we have discovered. Sorry I got carried away - how have you been Captain?”
“That’s okay, I know you both are excited. I want the whole story. But first I have to get my cup of coffee. What about you two - coffee?” Over the inter-office communicator, the Captain make a request, “Krissy, would you mind bringing in a couple more coffee cups, no make it three, I know Rocky will want coffee when he arrives.”
‘Right away Captain, but Rocky can bring his own cup. He’s standing here sipping your special Columbian Roast as we speak.”
“That good-for-nothing! No seriously, tell him to help himself and sent him in. Wh
at about LJ?”
“I’m here too Captain,” Lonnie Joe responded.
After everyone had said his hellos, the men took seats around the conference table. “Well, looks as if everyone is here! Forrest should be here in a little while,” announced Captain Scarburg. “Sam Lin and Si Lei would you, please give us a briefing on your mission to Bangkok, and the significance of these papers spread around the table.
Si Lei looking at brother Sam Lin said reluctantly, “Would you mind Sam Lin, you are a much better speaker than I am. Besides, you have always been the smartest.”
“That’s not true Si Lei... but of course I will. Guys, Si Lei and I only arrived from Thailand this morning, so we did not have time to prepare a formal presentation - this one is going to be shooting from the hip. If you have a question, please feel free to interrupt me at any time. Either Si Lei or I will attempt an answer. Okay, here we go...”
Standing at the end of the table, Sam Lin began with their arrival at Concourse C at Suvarnabhumi Airport, Bangkok. He was just beginning to get into the part where Katrina Ryabov walked across the concourse and greeted them under the Thai Pavilion. “Captain, sorry to interrupt,” Krista announced over the communication system, “Forrest just arrived, I’m going to send him in.”
Everyone’s head turned toward the door awaiting Forrest’s entrance. The door opened, Forrest made his grand arrival. “Hey fellows, hi Grandpa. What have I missed?”
Grandpa answered, “Not much Forrest. Sam Lin was just beginning to tell us about their trip to Bangkok. Go on Sam Lin now that everyone is really all here.”
“Okay, Forrest I’ll catch you up - I had just told the others that Si Lei and I arrived in Bangkok, walked into the airport, to get our bearings we had stopped under the Thai Pavilion when an attractive woman who later introduced herself as Katrina Ryabov approached.”
“Hold on Sam Lin,” said Forrest. “I want to know about the plane crash. That is the real adventure… this other talk is just spy stuff… I want to hear about your exciting near-death experience in the frozen wasteland of Siberia.”
“Sure Forrest… but first, it wasn’t in Siberia we crashed in Russia, and we weren’t anywhere near death. You make it sound so melodramatic, but Si Lei and I will tell you our entire story,” and for the next couple of hours, Sam Lin with Si Lei’s input divulged the intriguing details of their exploits. Throughout his briefing, Sam Lin was constantly stopped by questions from someone at the table. The group had sat totally mesmerized by the two Kim brother’s exciting narrative and hung on their every word. Finally, Sam Lin began to wind down his story with the death of Malita Smith and Katrina ‘Kat’ Sokolov. He emphasized both their deaths were the direct result of someone searching for the Dr. Joseph Rusnak papers. The same papers, which now lay scattered across the conference table where they were currently sitting.
Lonnie Joe asked, “Sam Lin do you or Si Lei have any idea who killed the two women?”
“Let me just say this – Katrina thought the CIA’s project MK-ULTRA was the key. She was terrified just saying the name. I believe she talked to Malita Smith who must have passed the information on to someone within the Company.” Sam Lin followed by dramatically explaining the car chase and the final demise of the Mercedes in the flaming crash into the bulldozer on the Highway Seven expressway from Bangkok to the International Airport. “I believe this automobile was being driven by agents of the CIA.”
“What makes you think the CIA was involved?”
“When Si Lei and I worked at the Bangkok CIA post, black Mercedes sedans were the official automobiles most agents drove. The icing on the cake was the license plate. I got a glance at it as the car pulled up behind us – it was blue with white letters. Those blue and white tags are only used on official U.S. government automobiles in Thailand. No one else connected with the government in Thailand would have known we were in town.” Pulling out a chair from the table Sam Lin sat down, “That’s about it if no one has any further questions? Oh, there is one more tidbit of information for you Captain - we saw your old, brown, sweat stained, tattered cowboy hat.”
“You did? I knew I could not find it, but where did you see it?”
“Anhur was wearing it when he and his friends cleared the snow from our downed airplane in Russia. Without his help, we would have never escaped from that barren, snow-covered lake. And we saw it once more – it was sitting atop Anhur’s head as he stood next to the tangled wreckage at the horrific, fiery crash on the Highway Seven Bangkok expressway.”
“By-ned that little rascal, my hat huh? So that’s where my hat disappeared! Well I’ll be, he’s still up to his old tricks, you say? That little guy saved you from the crash site in Russia and also caused the wreck that allowed you to escape in Thailand,” the Captain said grinning as he pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. “By-ned, that little rascal! By-ned!”
Walking to the podium, “Good job Sam Lin and Si Lei... you both did an excellent job.... with one exception... you did not return my cowboy hat,” he said laughing. “Excellent report and it proves the CIA was waist deep in the Kennedy assassination. In fact, I have a CIA story too that I believe will prove the CIA and Kennedy were at odds with each other as well. Settle back, this might take a while.
“This happened a number of years ago,” the Captain said as he began to speak...
The time was 11:00 a.m., Monday, December 5, 2012.
Chapter Thirty-Three
FORTY YEARS EARLIER
Sack time usually came late for the men of the “Screaming Eagles” – Company A, 3rd Battalion, 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment, of the One Oh One (101st) Airborne Division, stationed at Ft. Bragg, North Carolina, but on this night sleep would not come at all. Billeted in old two story wooden barracks constructed in WW II the troopers were hard at work preparing their combat equipment for an ordered combat mission. Mission? Mission to where, the U.S. was not at war?
The time was 2200 hours, April 17, 1961.
Earlier in the evening, at 1800 hours, Lieutenant Colonel (LTC) Brad Fleming Commander of the Third Battalion had called all his company commanders together. He instructed them to assembly the Battalion for the posting of an important announcement of a General Alert Order. His instructions to the Captains commanding each company were to have all the companies assemble at 1900 hours on the Main Post parade field (or Pike Field as it is known at Bragg). At exactly 7 p.m., LTC Fleming had his Adjutant Major Nick James read General Alert Order Number 009. After the Major finished reading the General Order announcing the Five-Oh-Five Regiment was going to war, Staff Sergeant Johnny “Red” Walker (yeah he got the humor, but he didn’t care for it either) turned to his best friend Corporal William Winston, better known to all his friends as “Smokes”. “Did the adjutant say ‘Prepare for a combat jump,’ Smokes? Didn’t he say we are to be dropped in advance of an invasion force, and our mission is to disrupt transportation lines and repel defenders? When did we declare war Smokes? Who are we going to war with?
“Red, you askin’ me? You’re the Squad Leader!”
The screen door to the barracks slammed hard against the wall as the First Sergeant opened it with a kick from his spit-shined, combat boot. Stepping into the barracks he blew hard on the whistle that hung from his dog tag chain. Once... twice... three times...”Listen up ladies!! Get your gear together; we have to be at the airfield no later than 0300. That’s 3 a.m. for you brain-dead killers. Let’s get a move on; it’s now 2205 hours for you scumbags that don’t have a watch!! You’ve got less than five hours!! Move it! This ain’t no drill!! Move it! We got us a war to go to!!”
“Top!” Some trooper in the back of the barracks yelled to the 1st Sergeant, “Where we goin’ Sarge?”
“Can’t say just yet! It has to stay on the QT for now – you’ll all get a sitrep (situation report) on the plane... now get your head out of your asses, get those weapons cleaned and ready for action. I want to see your gear standing tall for equipment check at 0245 hou
rs!!”
Standing on the tarmac, faces painted with green, tan and black camouflage paint, weighed down with nearly one-hundred pounds of equipment including parachutes, reserve parachutes, weapons, C-rats (canned food) and ammo the entire 2nd Battalion nervously waited to board the giant, army green, Hercules C-130 transports. Smokes said above the roar of the four 4,500 horsepower turboprop engines on the aircraft they were prepared to board, “Red, I’m scared!”
Quietly, the Staff Sergeant replied, “Me too Smokes.”
The time was 0400 hours, April 17, 1961.
Pope Army Airfield, Ft. Bragg, North Carolina – Paratroopers Staff Sergeant Johnny Walker and Corporal William Winston were shuffling toward one of the waiting transport aircraft of the 464th Troop Carrier Wing. They faintly could see the official tail marking on their C-130 Hercules had been sprayed over with green camouflage paint. The large, white, Air Force stars on the wings and fuselage had been obliterated too. “Red, look at those marking on our plane – are we still in the U.S. Army?”
“Yeah, but someone don’t want us to be recognized in this war we’re goin’ to.”
Taking a step with his spit-shined, Corcoran, jump boot onto the steel, rear ramp leading into his huge military cargo plane Sergeant Walker hesitated for a moment and took one final look over his shoulder. As far as he could see across the dark tarmac were bright landing lights of dozens and dozens of C-130s. C-130s just like the one he was boarding, brakes locked, and all four engines wound up and roaring to their maximum rpms ready for takeoff.
The paratroopers had numbered off on the edge of the tarmac – odd numbers were on the starboard side, even numbers on the port. As the troopers were finding their red, web backed, canvas seats, the rear ramp raised and closed shut, and down the runway one after the other the planes rolled. From somewhere in the middle of one of the sticks of paratroopers one of them could be heard above the roar of the engines singing the refrain:
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