by D. B. Silvis
He left the motel, and went to a post office, where he mailed the letter before driving west toward California. In Los Angeles, Killian sold the Chevy pickup, and boarded a plane heading west.
CHAPTER 9
It was a hot afternoon, in late August, 1958. Seventy-six-year-old Zack was swimming laps in his rectangular pool when he saw a new, dark green Chevrolet pickup drive into his yard. It parked down by the main stable. He figured it was someone making a delivery. He completed a few more laps before swimming toward the steps at the shallow end to get out. It was then he saw the feet of someone standing at the pool’s edge. He stopped, stood up, wiped the chlorine from his pale blue eyes, and was looking at Killian.
“By god, you’re back, Killian!” exclaimed the old man, grinning as he climbed up the pool’s four steps. Killian reached out, gave him a hand, and they embraced.
“Christ look, I’m getting you all wet.”
“It’s just water, Zack. Darn, it’s good to see you.”
“You too boy, oh jeez, there I go again calling you a boy, a man fifty years my senior.”
They laughed as they walked over to a table where Zack picked up a beige towel, and began to dry off.
“The other day I asked Kip where the heck you’ve been these past five years. He said you’ve been traveling all over the world, and enjoying life on some island.”
“True. I was on Capri, off the coast of Italy.”
“Pretty nice, I bet. I’ve never been to Italy.”
“You should go there, Zack. There’s lots of interesting places to visit.”
Zack smiled. “I might do that one of these days.” He began to fix them a drink. “Kip know you’re here?”
“No, I haven’t called him.”
“Well, let’s talk a bit. Drink this, and then we’ll give him a call.”
That evening, Kip drove down and the three men went out to a steakhouse for dinner. It took Killian a full two hours to answer all their questions. They wanted to know everything he’d done, and the places he’d been to over the past five and a half years.
“Well, while you’ve been traveling around the world, things have gotten even crazier here in the States,” said Kip. “President Eisenhower has relied more and more on the CIA. They’re involved in so darn many different operations we in congress can’t keep track.”
Killian nodded. “I read about the problems in Indonesia and Vietnam. Are we headed for another war?”
“The military men I’ve talked to are afraid it might happen. The CIA is conducting more and more covert operations. It’s their intent to influence the course of events in foreign countries without the United States’ role being obvious.”
“Yes, it seems they’ve gotten too big for their damn britches,” said Zack, shaking his head.
“You’re right,” Kip agreed. “They’ve conducted operations in China, the Philippines, Burma, Iran, Cuba, Guatemala, Indonesia and Tibet. The decision to back the corrupt President Ngo Dink Diem in Vietnam might well lead to war.”
“I heard about the CIA entering Tibet and training Gompo Tashi’s guerillas before I left the country.”
“Yes, they took them to Saipan for military and espionage training,” said Kip.
“Hell, Kip,” Zack broke in, “Its Killian’s first night back in town, and you’re filling his head with talk of war. Let’s order another drink and have a good time the rest of the night.”
They touched glasses, laughed and ordered another round of drinks.
Killian and Kip rose early the following morning, saddled Blaze and another of Zack’s fine horses, and went riding.
“I’ve had a wonderful time these past five years,” Killian confided, “but I did miss my ranch, and the early morning rides.”
“You wish you’d stayed there?” asked Kip.
“Oh, if things were different…” Killian chuckled, “But if they were different I’d have died over fifty years ago.” He paused. “This living on and on is real interesting, but, I don’t know, Kip, sometimes it’s not so good.”
Kip didn’t say anything. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for Killian never to age. Kip figured it must be great to have done the things his friend had done, and to have seen the things he’d seen. However, maybe, in a way, it might be hell. Kip shook his head. He didn’t know what to say to his friend.
After they’d continued riding for twenty minutes Killian reined up his horse. Kip rode up next to him.
“Kip, I need to do something. I’ve been a soldier most of my long life. I’d like to get back into the military. But how do I do that? In this day and age you need proof of your birth and who you are. I can’t provide it.” He snickered, “If I did, they’d probably lock me up in a nut house.”
“That’s true, but maybe we can figure out something, if it’s what you really want, Killian.”
“It is, Kip. I belong in the service. I love the action. I miss it.”
“Then I’ll see what I can do for you. This Saturday two generals, and an admiral are coming to the ranch for a meeting. Over the past three months we’ve been discussing the CIA. They feel because the CIA is blessed with secrecy, and lack of oversight by congress, the organization has become corrupt. The general public is totally unaware of the covert activities the CIA is involved in.”
“They’re that out of hand, Kip?”
“Yes. They’ve been involved in assassinations, plots against foreign lands, and they’ve helped launch military coups which have toppled democratic governments. In addition, there’s a long list of overthrown leaders. They give assistance to underground resistance groups. They spread propaganda and create economic warfare. Of course, they front it all by claiming to be supporting indigenous anti-communist elements.”
“How do they get away with it, Kip?”
“In addition to secrecy they have the blessing of the president. They’ve become very powerful. One of the Army generals has gone as far to say the CIA is the department of dirty tricks.”
“So these military men want to do something about the CIA, which they believe has gotten out of hand?”
“They do. They’re worried about the escalating problems in Vietnam, where the CIA’s deep into the struggle between President Ngo Dinh Diem and the Viet Cong. Plus, they may become involved in Cuba, where President Batista’s forces are fighting a rebel group led by Fidel Castro. That’s why we’re meeting.”
“Is it something where I could be involved, Kip?”
“Maybe, my friend, maybe, we’ll see.”
They continued with their ride. That evening Kip’s mother Jesse invited them over for a prime rib dinner.
Admiral George Hildegard of the Navy, General David Dugan of the Army and General Charles Mittlebonn of the Air Force, were old-school military officers. They, along with other military officers, resented the power the president had given to a civilian organization. The CIA now had authority over intelligence gathering, and covert operations, which until then had always been under the guidance of the military.
In 1953, when General Dwight David Eisenhower had been elected President of the United States, his new administration had been concerned that excessive military spending might cause inflation, and put a strain on America’s economy. Faced with this fiscal constraint, the president, and his administration had eased back on using the military, and relied instead upon the CIA, which had outside funding sources, to implement clandestine and covert operations.
One of the first policies pursued by the CIA had been to remove Iran’s Mohammed Mosaddeq from power, as his rule was contrary to American interests. First of all, Mohammad hadn’t opened Iran’s lucrative oil fields to the United States. Secondly, he was leaning toward the Soviet Union for military and commercial benefits. The CIA had succeeded in removing Mohammed, but many of the United States’ military commanders felt the CIA’s involvement in Iran had exceeded its mandate. They believed the CIA’s tactics, which had resulted in unnecessary brutality, threatened to provoke a d
irect military confrontation with Russia and would end up costing the US government even more than a conventional military intervention.
The following year President Eisenhower had again relied on the CIA when a problem for the United States emerged in Guatemala with the election of the Marxist-supported government of Jacobo Arbenz Gusman. Again, President Eisenhower had stuck to his policy not to use full military power. Instead he toppled Gusman through the use of the CIA, and limited military involvement.
The activities of the CIA had begun to spread, and they had become engaged in espionage across the world. The higher branches of the military felt the president, and his administration were relying too heavily on the CIA, which, they believed, was going much too far with its clandestine and covert operations.
Kipling Smith was one of the congressmen on the Armed Forces Committee who sided with the military, and listened to the concerns of high-ranking officers. He believed they were right to harbor misgivings about the CIA, and agreed with them the agency was becoming overly involved in activities which should be handled by the military. There were also rumors, and complaints circulating regarding some of the CIA’s unorthodox and unauthorized methods.
Kip, along with Congressman Thomas Bernard, had agreed to meet secretly with the three senior military officers to discuss the matter. Accordingly, he had invited the four men to spend the weekend at the ranch.
It was a warm, sunny, Saturday afternoon. The five casually dressed men were sitting at an oval glass top table by the pool. They had been idly talking, and sipping on refreshing drinks for the past twenty minutes.
“Kip,” said Admiral Hildegard, “it was a good idea of yours to get out of Washington, and meet here at your grandfather’s place. But now I think it’s time to get down to the business at hand.”
The other men nodded their agreement.
The admiral continued. “We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t agree we’re darned concerned with the power and leeway that has been given to Director Waterton and his CIA operatives.”
“True,” concurred General Dugan, “and it’s downright confounding, and sad, that the majority of congress, and the senate are turning their heads regarding the activities of the CIA.”
“Indeed,” Congressman Bernard put in. “At first it was about cutting back on military funding; however, the cost of the CIA’s involvements have exceeded all expectations.”
“It’s the unusual methods of their operations which upset, and worry me the most,” said General Mittlebonn. “We’ve all heard about incidents of unauthorized clandestine and covert missions that have led to torture and brutality.”
“Yes, it seems their motto is ‘whatever goes, as long as it justifies the means’,” Kip observed.
“Many of our enemies, and some of our allies, are questioning what, as a country, we’re doing?” said Admiral Hildegard.
“And those who are doing the questioning include most of our own military personnel, and, for God’s sake, we’re not the ones doing these secret operations! The CIA is making us look bad,” General Dugan added.
Congressman Bernard frowned. “That’s another problem, gentlemen. Too much is being done in secret. Neither the senate nor congress know what’s going on until after it’s done.”
“If even then,” added Kip.
“Okay. Our feelings are out on the table,” said Admiral Hildegard. “Now, what are we going to do about it?”
“It’s evident it won’t do any good to talk to the senate or congress,” said General Mittlebonn.
“And our discussions with the president, and his staff have fallen on deaf ears,” added General Dugan.
“We need to know what the CIA is up to. We’re not privy to what they’re doing unless, like in Guatemala, we’re called in for mop-up duty. They’ve now made a mess in Vietnam. I’m sure our country is going to be involved in another war, and this time caused by the CIA. It’s humiliating and disgusting,” said Admiral Hildegard.
“It sure as hell is,” agreed General Mittlebonn.
Kip stood up and refilled their glasses from a large glass container sitting in a bucket of ice.
“But what can we do?” asked Congressman Bernard.
“That’s the big question. That’s why we’re here, and we need to answer it,” said General Dugan, slapping the top of the table.
“Off the top of my head, I’d say we need to fight fire with fire,” said Admiral Hildegard.
Congressman Bernard inquired, “Meaning what?”
“Well, the CIA is clothed in secrecy, almost everything they do is clandestine and covert,” replied the admiral slowly.
“So you’re suggesting we use the same tactic to learn what they’re up to?” asked General Dugan.
“Yes.”
“That may be difficult as they don’t always go through regular channels,” said General Mittlebonn.
Kip looked at them. “Plus, the CIA doesn’t always use government funding. I’ve learned they have private trusts, and individuals who fund their operations.
General Dugan was surprised. “Is that a fact?”
“It is, general.”
“There’s also a rumor they have access to drug money from Asia,” Congressman Bernard informed them.
“Jesus Christ. What’s next, the Mafia?” asked a disturbed General Mittlebonn.
General Dugan shifted in his seat. “They’re getting too much power from the top. The president’s only concerned with the end results, and making damn sure it doesn’t appear the United States is involved in the operations.”
“Yes, the president wants it both ways, and he can’t have it that way if the military’s involved,” said the admiral.
No one spoke for a few seconds.
“Then we’re back to what the admiral suggested,” Congressman Bernard eventually concluded. “We need to know what the CIA is doing while they’re doing it, not later.”
“I’m afraid that at some point, the unauthorized and illegal missions they’re doing will harm American relations with both our enemies and allies,” the admiral confessed.
“Then we need to infiltrate their operation,” said General Mittlebonn.
“They’re commissioning some of our best men into their system. Maybe we could find one or two men, whom we trust, to join them, and report back to us,” suggested General Dugan.
“That could be very risky,” Kip ventured.
“That’s true,” General Dugan agreed, “but I’m sure we could find a couple of good men.”
“It might work in the beginning, general,” Kip persisted. “However, remember the CIA has special outside financial trusts. They pay their best men large sums of bonus money, in cash. That’s very tempting to a man earning a soldier’s wage.”
The general replied, “I don’t think the men we’d choose would betray us.”
“Your key words there are ‘I don’t think’. Do you want to risk your career on it, general?” asked Congressman Bernard.
There was dead silence as the three military men pondered the congressman’s warning.
“I may have an answer to our problem,” offered Kip.
The four men looked at him.
“You do?” asked Admiral Hildegard.
“Yes. I believe I have the perfect man for your mission.”
General Mittlebonn asked, “Who?”
“A retired soldier I’ve known for many years. He wants to get back into action.”
“Retired? How old is he?” asked the admiral.
“He’s old as far as experience goes, but not yet thirty,” said Kip, with a smile.
“What are his qualifications?” asked General Dugan.
“He’s served in two wars. He specializes in recon, disguises, covert operations, and is skilled in all weapons. He speaks several languages. He is the most loyal American I’ve ever known. He should have received all of the military’s top medals for what he’s done for this country, but he’s a quiet man who doesn’t want honors or recogniti
on. I would trust him with my life. I’d trust him with my mother’s life,” Kip told them proudly.
The admiral beamed. “My God, I’d like to meet a man like that!”
Congressman Bernard grinned. “Kip, you’ve got to be kidding us. There’s no man around who fits that description.”
“Believe me, Thomas, he is real,” said Kip.
“How do you know him?” asked Mittlebonn.
“Remember, before I was a congressman I was a captain in the 1st Cavalry. I met this man right after the war.”
Dugan was skeptical. “If he’s a seasoned war hero, as you say, why haven’t we heard of him?”
Kip thought for a few moments. He knew he couldn’t tell them the real story about Killian. He formulated a story.
“You won’t find a record of my friend. His family’s from out west, and they have a history of fighting in the Civil War and the Indian Wars. He was born in Indian Territory, so he doesn’t have a birth certificate. When he was young he learned to ride and fight, and became a civilian scout for the cavalry. He is a master of disguise. He could be here at the ranch, and you’d never see him. He has spent time in foreign countries, and been a sort of mercenary for the United States. He has always worked in covert operations, and under an assumed name. He prefers to be anonymous. I have seen him in action, and I’m awed by his abilities.” Kip chuckled. “This is kind of ironic, but I offered his services to Director Spencer, and he turned me down.”
“So he’s part Indian?” asked Mittlebonn.
“You could say that, General.”
“Why’d Director Spencer turn him down?” asked Dugan.
“He wouldn’t go for the anonymous part. Said he was hands on, and wanted to know his operatives,” replied Kip.
“Yes, Spencer’s a control freak. He runs a tight, in-house agency,” said Mittlebonn.
“Let’s meet your man. We’d like to talk to him,” said the admiral.
“No, that won’t happen. As I said, he wants to keep his identity unknown. He only wants to work through me. That’s the reason Spencer turned him down.”
“How could that work, if he’s working in the field for us?” asked General Dugan.