The Chameleon Soldier: NOW AS AN ALIEN BLUE HE CANNOT DIE.

by D. B. Silvis

  Killian knew his nemesis Lupan, and many of his Blue Warrior followers, would sure to be serving the North Koreans against the Americans.

  In the fall Killian rejoined the 1st Cavalry Regiment, and was assigned to the 16th Reconnaissance Company, which was the lead recon team for the regiment. Killian soon learned it was a lousy war. Much of it was fought in harsh winter conditions, and miserable, rough, mountainous terrain. Many times his regiment found themselves separated from the main unit. They had to fight their way back to friendly lines. The 1st Cavalry suffered heavy losses as they were fighting both the North Koreans, and the Chinese.

  In addition, they had to contend with the refugees, who crowded the towns and the roads. Many of the refugees were loyal to the Democratic People’s Republic of North Korea and helped the enemy against the Americans. On one occasion, in a small crowded town, the 16th Reconnaissance Company felt the refugees were somehow sending signals, regarding their location, to the North Koreans. They sent a few of their soldiers out to mingle with the crowd. Killian, using his ability, transformed to a refugees. About an hour later, he saw a man and a pregnant woman squatting by the roadside. Something didn’t appear to be right. The woman seemed to be having a problem. Killian went over to them.

  He looked at the woman. “Are you having a problem? Could I be of help?”

  They immediately stood up. “No.” she answered and they walked away.

  Killian and the man recognized each other as a Blue. Killian quickly moved behind a building and transformed back to a soldier. Coming out he yelled to two soldiers to stop the couple. As the woman ran, a radio fell from under her dress. She was apprehended and wasn’t pregnant. It was apparent the couple had been using the radio to report the 1st Cavalry’s position. The man continued running. One of the soldiers fired at him. The bullet struck him in the back, but the man didn’t stop. Killian and two soldiers took chase. The man darted down into a tall grassy ravine and returned fire. As the two soldiers hit the dirt, Killian spotted a young soldier with a flamethrower. He ran over and grabbed him.

  “Come with me we need your help!” Killian shouted, as he pulled the startled soldier toward the ravine.

  The man in the ravine fired at Killian, the bullet creased his left leg.

  “Fire at the ravine!” yelled Killian as he tossed a grenade.

  The young soldier hesitated, and then unloaded a fiery stream into the ravine. The tall, dry grass burst into flames. There was a scream, and the man came running out, his clothes on fire. He began shooting at Killian, and the young soldier.

  Killian threw another grenade. “Fire it again, hit him!” shouted Killian.

  A long blast of liquid fire hit the man. He screamed as he became a mass of flames. For a moment, there appeared the image of a wolf that stood on its hind legs and howled. Then a bright flash of blue light was followed by a ribbon of blue-white smoke ascending into the sky. A smile crept across Killian’s face as he, and other men watched.

  One of the soldiers rose to his feet. “What the hell was that?”

  “Did I hear a howl?” asked the soldier with the flamethrower.

  The other soldier stood up. “Jesus, Killian, don’t you think the grenades and, flamethrower was a bit of overkill?”

  They all walked down to the ravine where the man had stood.

  “Where the heck’s the body?” asked the young soldier with the flamethrower.

  “Christ, it looks like you disintegrated him,” said one of the others.

  “Is that possible?”

  “It sure as hell must be, because there sure ain’t a body here.”

  “I saw a bright blue flash, maybe he was carrying nitro or something,” the young soldier suggested.

  “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

  Killian grinned as they all turned, and walked back up toward the road. The man had to have been a Navajo and most likely one of Lupan’s Blue Warrior followers. He wondered if his arch-enemy was close by. However, it turned out to be the last time, during the war, that Killian encountered a Blue Warrior.

  In June, 1953, the war, or the police action as President Harry Truman called it, ended. Later, in the fall of that year, when Killian was released from duty, he decided to look up his old friend Kipling Smith, who had been elected to congress in 1950.

  Kipling Smith had always liked politics, and had followed it since he was in high school and college, where he led the debating team. His dream was to be a congressman. However, World War II had interrupted his plans. His time spent in the college ROTC program served him well, and he had become an officer. Kipling had hated the war, but he had enjoyed serving in the 1st Cavalry. He only wished they hadn’t dismounted the cavalry before he was sent overseas. He often thought about his horse, Blaze, whom he had left behind, and wondered if he was being taken care of by the man who had bought him. When an enemy bullet struck his leg Kipling had cursed his bad luck. However, while lying in the hospital bed he’d often smiled when thinking of running for political office as a wounded veteran.

  After the war, when Kipling Smith went back to El Paso, Texas, he found his mount had been well cared for, and was in excellent condition; Blaze had clearly been in good hands with Killian Kilkenny and the Freemans.

  Kipling had raised the horse from a colt. He was a fine animal from good stock, a beautiful strawberry roan standing fifteen and a half hands high. Blaze had been a gift from his grandfather after he graduated from college.

  When Kipling had first arrived at the Kilkenny Ranch he had planned to buy a rig, pick up Blaze, and drive back to his parents’ home in Virginia. It hadn’t been in his mind to stay at Killian’s ranch. However, a strange thing had happened. He found he’d met a man whom he liked, and who intrigued him. Of course, at the time, he had no idea what an unusual man Killian Kilkenny was or that he would change Kipling’s life forever. If it hadn’t been for Kipling’s driving political ambitions he would never have left the ranch, especially after the night he’d learned the amazing truth about his new friend.

  The day he loaded Blaze into a small horse van and headed his Ford pickup east toward Virginia was one of the most difficult days of his life. Kipling felt as if he had become part of the Killian and Freeman family. He had loved living on the ranch, with all the excitement and camaraderie. He had wanted to be part of what Killian was doing. He was awed by what Killian had been able to accomplish, and by what he planned to do in the future. However, he knew he had to move on with his life. He needed to be with his real family back in Virginia. In 1948, when Kipling Smith left the KF Dude Ranch, he had only one goal in mind; he wanted to be a congressman. He wasn’t happy with many of the decisions being made in Washington, D.C. Kipling felt he could help make changes.

  When he arrived home Kip knew he’d made the right choice. It was good to be with his parents, his grandfather and friends. It wasn’t long before his family, and their influential friends got behind his effort to become a congressman in the state of Virginia. His cause was aided greatly by his family’s money, and the funds his friends helped him raise. The fact he was a wounded captain also enhanced his popularity. Kip defeated his opponent by a wide margin, and became one of the youngest men to serve in congress.

  Between 1950 and 1953 Kip had lost touch with Killian. At first, he had been busy with his family and the rigors of the election. Then he became bogged down with the unfamiliar work of his new position as a congressman. When he finally got around to calling Killian, the Freemans informed him that Killian had once again enlisted, and was in Korea fighting with the 1st Cavalry Regiment.

  Over the next few months, he kept thinking about his friend. Knowing about his unusual capabilities, he began to seek out committees which dealt with military tactics and espionage. Kip knew Killian to be a dedicated man, who wanted to serve his country. However, he felt Killian’s almost supernatural talents weren’t being used to their full potential. He needed to be guided into a position where he could keep his being a Blue a secret, but c
ould also use his abilities to their fullest. Kip had set a goal, to learn all he could about the Special Forces and covert operations.

  In his second year as a congressman, Kip was put on an Armed Forces committee. The following year he learned more and more about the various divisions of the Army, and the intelligence network. In 1947 President Harry S. Truman signed the National Security Act, which realigned and reorganized the United States armed forces, foreign policy, and the intelligence community? The act also established the National Security Council, whose function was to advise and assist the president on national and foreign policies. In addition, the act established the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), the United States first peacetime intelligence agency. The CIA was set up as an independent civilian agency, with responsibility for providing national security intelligence assessment to the senior United States policymakers. Intelligence gathering was performed by non-military commissioned civilian intelligence agents. The CIA was also to oversee, and at times engage in, tactical and covert activities. This new agency replaced the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) that had been formed in 1942, during World War II, to coordinate espionage activities behind enemy lines for the branches of the United States Armed Forces.

  The military was not happy with President Truman’s new CIA. It took power from them, and placed national security intelligence in the hands of civilian agents. This is what caught Kip’s attention. One of the groups that came under the CIA was SAD, the Special Activities Division. Within SAD there were two separate groups, one which centered on tactical paramilitary operations and another for covert political action. It was the former, the Special Operations Group (SOG) which Kip zeroed in on. SOG was an operation that undertook the collection of intelligence in hostile countries, and regions that were a high threat militarily or were intelligence areas which, the United States government did not want to be associated. The members of the unit were called Specialized Skill Officers, who did not normally carry or wear any items of military clothing or equipment which might associate them with the United States government. If they were captured or killed during a mission the United States government could deny all knowledge of that person or of any operation.

  Kip saw this unit as the best fit for Killian. In it, he could be most useful to the country. The SOG was the most secretive special operational force in the United States. Most of their operatives were selected from other special operation forces within the United States. The head of the National Clandestine Service (NCS) was the senior United States government official in the US Central Intelligence Agency. The person holding the position was known as the Deputy Director for Plans (DDP). Kip knew the current director, who had been appointed in 1951, as he was a family friend.

  Kip was daydreaming about these things when his secretary entered his small, unpretentious office. She informed him he had a telephone call from an old friend. He wondered which old high school or college classmate was now calling him for a favor. Ever since he had been elected to the congress, it seemed at least once a week he’d receive a request for some favor or other. With some exasperation, he laid down the ink pen he been idly tapping on his desk.

  “Who is it this time?” he asked.

  “It’s someone different, sir. He’s never called here before. He said his name is Killian.”

  Kip jumped up out of his chair and stared at her. She had never seen the congressman so excited. Kip snatched up the telephone.

  “Killian!” he half shouted. “I’m glad you called! How are you?”

  Kip waved for his secretary to leave the room. She turned and left, closing the door behind her.

  Kip learned that Killian was at the National Airport in Washington D.C., which was only four miles away. He told Killian to grab a cab, and come to the Mayflower Renaissance Hotel; he’d book a room for him and meet him there.

  Minutes later, Kip left his office in the Cannon House congressional office building just south of the White House. When he arrived at the hotel, he paced anxiously back and forth in front of the main entrance. He couldn’t wait to see his good friend. A yellow cab pulled up and the young, red-headed Killian stepped out. He was dressed casually and was carrying a small bag. The two men stood looking at one another, then Kip hurried over to his ageless friend and they hugged.

  “Jesus, it’s good to see you, Killian! It’s been over five years and look at you, I’ll be damned if you don’t look the same.”

  Killian laughed. “What’d you expect? You know I’m sort of frozen in time.”

  “That you are.” Kip patted Killian on the back. “Damn, it’s good to see you.”

  “Good to see you too, Kip. I don’t have many friends.”

  “Many?” grinned Kip.

  “Well,” laughed Killian, “one.”

  “Yes, but one good one. Come on, let’s get you checked in, and have some lunch.”

  They entered the hotel lobby, and walked over to the main desk. Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting in the hotel restaurant on K Street. They ordered a drink.

  Killian looked around the room. “Kip, this hotel’s pretty fancy for a guy like me. I’d be just fine at a smaller hotel.”

  “You’re right; it is a first class hotel. In fact, President Truman said this is the ‘second best address in America, right after the White House.” They both laughed. “Killian, you deserve the best for all you’ve done for your country. Hell, the government should be footing the bill. Hey, come to think of it, they are because I’m putting this on my expense account.”

  They both laughed again. The waiter came to their table and set down their drinks.

  “Here’s to you, Killian.”

  They touched glasses.

  “And to you, Kip.”

  They drank and sat in silence for a few moments.

  “So you made it as a congressman. It’s what you wanted, and I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Killian, but I’m proud of all the good things you’ve done. Christ, you’re the all-American soldier.”

  “Good God, Kip, listen to us, we sound like some back-patting admiration group.”

  They were chuckling as the waiter came over to take their lunch order.

  “Killian, all I do now is attend meetings, sit on boring committees and write letters. It isn’t all that exciting. But I’m anxious to hear what you have been doing.”

  Killian explained how Kip’s brooding on concerns over the plight of the Indians, and their mistreatment had gotten him to go to Arizona to see for himself. He told Kip how terrible it was, and about his encounters with the two Blues. He asked Kip if anything was being done about the boarding schools.

  “Not enough! However, we do have the National Congress of American Indians. It was founded in 1944, in response to the termination and assimilation policies the United States government was forcing upon the tribes in contradiction of their treaty rights. The goals of the NCAI were, and are, to enforce Indians’ rights under the constitution, and to expand and improve education, settle claims equitably, and preserve Indian cultural values.”

  “And how’s it working out?”

  “The NCAI is doing good work, but things could be better.”

  Killian nodded. Then he told Kip about his looking for Lupan, and about his experiences in the Korean War.

  “God Killian, how do you do it? Year after year, war after war, if I were to write a book about you, no one would believe it.”

  “Why would they? It’s something beyond the realm of the possible as comprehended by most people. And yet, there are a great number of alien Blues walking around this place we call earth.”

  “Do you really believe that, Killian?”

  “I do. I’ve seen them, and many times I’ve felt Blues in my presence.”

  The waiter set down their lunch, and they began to eat.

  “What now, Killian?” Kip asked. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Kip laughed. “Hell, you’re one hundred and t
wenty-one years old. You should know what to do.”

  “Yeah, I should. And I should have had a birthday party a couple of months ago.”

  “Well, I could have a belated party for you, but I’d have a problem, Killian.”

  “What problem?”

  “What the heck would I put on top of the cake for candles, a flamethrower, and then pull the trigger?”

  They laughed, touched glasses, and finished their drinks. Kip waved to the waiter to bring another round.

  “Killian, over the past two years, I’ve been thinking about you and your situation. Your secret is going to be found out, especially if you keep going back to the dude ranch.”

  Killian nodded in agreement.

  Kip continued. “The younger Freeman children are not going to understand why you never seem to age. The word is going to get out. People are going to learn about you, and sooner or later the government is going to get involved.”

  “I know, Kip. I have thought about it.”

  “Killian, over the past few months I’ve gotten involved with the Armed Forces committee.”

  “Do you have a special reason for getting involved?”

  “Yes. It’s about you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. Like I say, over the past few months I’ve often thought about your situation. I’ve been looking for a career where you’d be able to use your fantastic skills, yet conceal your identity, and earn a great living.”

  Killian grinned. “Sounds like the impossible. That would be some career.”

  “I don’t think it’s impossible, my friend.”

  “Kip, how could it not be? What could I do?”

  “Through the Armed Forces committee, and other sources I’ve learned about the special divisions within the CIA. One of them is the Special Activities Division. Within the division is the SOG, which stands for Specialized Skilled Officers. It is the most secretive special operation in the US, and deals in clandestine and covert operations. Most operations are handled by officers selected from special operation forces. However, I have learned some individuals or groups are chosen secretly, and not put on the government payroll. They’re paid out of trusts and private funding.”