“You don’t have to talk to him,” Marjorie said. “All you have to do is be there for me. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
Liza looked at her and raised her empty glass.
“You want another one of these?”
“I’m not half through with this one,” Marjorie said.
“But you don’t mind if I do, right?” Liza said, and went to the counter to fix herself another drink.
“Not so long as you don’t get plastered and give Allan one with gin in it,” Marjorie said, and then, very softly. “Please, Liza?”
Liza didn’t reply until she had made herself a fresh drink and walked up to Marjorie.
“It would be understood that I wouldn’t try to talk to the sonofabitch, right? And that nobody tries ‘to fix things’?”
“Deal,” Marjorie said.
“Okay, then. Tell me all the giddy details.”
[ TWO ]
Flight Planning
Base Operations
Pope Air Force Base, North Carolina
0730 21 December 1964
“You check the weather, Lieutenant?” Major Pappy Hodges said when he walked up to Jack, who was laying out an IFR course to return to Fort Rucker.
“Yes, sir.”
“And?”
“Couldn’t be any better, sir,” Jack said.
“What is that you’re doing, Lieutenant?”
“Preparing an IFR flight plan for your approval, sir.”
“Usually, when I’m going from here to Rucker, I head catty-cornered across South Carolina until I find Aiken or North Augusta, or maybe Bamberg for a piss and fuel stop, then cut across Georgia to Fort Benning, and then fly down the river until I start recognizing the local area around Rucker. Do you think you could do that without flying us into the ground?”
“Yes, sir, I think I can handle that.”
“Doing it that way will be quicker than going IFR, so file a VFR to Bamberg,” Hodges ordered. “You can change it en route, if we’re closer to North Augusta.”
“Yes, sir.”
“If I didn’t mention this before, Lieutenant Portet, you have successfully completed your check ride in cross-country flight using instrument flight rules.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“And since you came back from the boonies, you have also successfully completed your check ride in landing on unimproved strips.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You see anything interesting out there?”
Jack hesitated.
“You can tell me, Lieutenant,” Hodges said. “As I am now, goddamn it, possessed of a Top Secret/Earnest security clearance.”
“Father’s training a dozen or so guys, black guys, out there to go to the Congo. A couple of them speak pretty good Swahili.”
“Felter’s fucking him, too, after what he went through, to get him involved over there again so soon.”
“I don’t think he minds,” Jack said. “He seemed happy doing what he was doing. And Jesus, did I get a lesson in leadership.”
“Meaning what?”
“All these guys are Green Berets, tough and smart, and here comes a honky airplane driver.”
“That must have been interesting,” Pappy said, smiling.
“By the time Father was through with them, he had them believing I was John Wayne, and the best thing that happened to them this year. Christ, it was masterful!”
“Just so long as you don’t start believing it,” Pappy said. Then he added, thoughtfully, “There’s a very few guys—a very few— around who are natural leaders. Father’s one of them.”
“Yeah,” Jack said, and took a chance. “You learn anything interesting? ”
“You’re not supposed to ask questions, Lieutenant, you know that.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Felter’s going to Germany, but he’ll be back in time for your wedding,” Pappy said. “And as soon as I can do it, I’m to get you checked out in the L-23. Then you and I are going to go out to Wichita, Kansas, and pick one up from the factory. We’ll ferry it back to Rucker, where it will be equipped with the navigation equipment—and maybe auxiliary fuel tanks—necessary for a flight to Buenos Aires, Argentina, and subsequent service in what Felter calls ‘the Southern Cone of South America.’ ”
“Buenos Aires? What the hell is that all about?”
“You’re not supposed to ask questions, Pappy, you know that,” Pappy said, in a perfect mimicry of Felter’s New York accent.
Jack smiled at him.
“Craig Lowell’s probably involved in this somehow,” Pappy said. “He’s going to Germany with Felter.” He paused, then, making it clear the subject of the their conversation had changed, asked, “I don’t suppose you have any Beaver time, do you, Jack?”
“I’ve got about eight hours in one,” Jack replied. "DeHavilland really tried to sell them in Africa; they loaned us one for two weeks, even paid for the fuel. They’re great little airplanes, but the distances in the Congo didn’t make them practical for us.”
“That’s next on your agenda,” Pappy said. “When we get to Rucker, I’ll give you an hour or so in ours, then arrange for someone to give you a check ride in the morning. Then from the Beaver to the Otter, and then the L-23.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let’s get this show on the road, Lieutenant,” Pappy said.
“Yes, sir.”
As he climbed out of Pope, Jack turned and looked in the backseat and saw that Pappy was already asleep with his head resting on the pillow he had brought with him.
[ THREE ]
SECRET
Central Intelligence Agency Langley, Virginia
FROM : Assistant Director For Administration
FROM: 20 December 1964 2305 GMT
SUBJECT : Guevara, Ernesto (Memorandum #4.)
TO: Mr. Sanford T. Felter
Counselor To The President
Room 637, The Executive Office Building
Washington, D.C.
By Courier
In compliance with Presidential Memorandum to The Director, Subject: “Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara,” dated 14 December 1964, the following information is furnished:
1. (Reliability Scale Five) (From CIA, Algiers, Algeria) SUBJECT met 1600-1825 GMT 19 December 1964 with Ben Bella, Chief of State of the Algerian Government at the Presidential Palace. No official announcement of the meeting was made.
2. (Reliability Scale Five). SUBJECT at 1905 GMT 19 December 1964 returned to residence of Cuban Ambassador. There have been many visitors to the residence, identities are being developed.
Howard W. O’Connor
HOWARD W. O’CONNOR
SECRET
[ FOUR ]
The Southern Star, Ozark, Alabama, 23 December 1964:
MISS MARJORIE BELLMON MARRIES
By Joe Adams
Fort Rucker Dec 23— Miss Marjorie W. Bellmon, of Fort Rucker, was united in marriage this afternoon to First Lieutenant Jacques E. Portet, in an Episcopal Ceremony at Chapel Number One at Fort Rucker.
The bride, a graduate of Southern Methodist University, is the daughter of Major General and Mrs. Robert F. Bellmon. General Bellmon is the Commanding General of Fort Rucker and the Army Aviation Center. Prior to her marriage, she was employed by the First National Bank of Ozark.
Lieutenant Portet, a graduate of the Free University of Brussels (Belgium) , is the son of Mr. and Mrs. J. P. Portet of Ocean Reef, Florida. He is stationed at Fort Bragg, N.C.
The bride was attended by Mrs. Allan Wood, of Ozark, as her matron of honor, and the groom’s sister, Jeanine Portet, served as flower girl. Miss Bellmon was given in marriage by her father. Mr. Portet served as his son’s best man. Mrs. John D. Roberts, of Ozark, sang “I Love You Truly” during the ceremony. The organist was Mrs. Nancy Higham, of Ozark.
The newly united couple left the chapel beneath an arc of sabers, following military tradition. The saber bearers were commanded by Captain John S. Oliver of Fort Rucker.
A reception followed at the Fort Rucker Officers’ Open Mess. Following a wedding trip to Florida, the couple will reside in Fort Bragg, N.C.
The Army Flier, Fort Rucker, Ala., 23 December 1964:
COMMANDING GENERAL’S DAUGHTER MARRIES
BY PFC Charles E. Whaley
Fort Rucker 23 Dec— Miss Marjorie Waterford Bellmon, daughter of Fort Rucker Commanding General and Mrs. Robert F. Bellmon was married this afternoon at Chapel #1 in a ceremony conducted by Chaplain (Col.) H. Dennis Smythe to First Lieutenant J. E. Portet, Inf.
Major General Bellmon gave the bride in marriage, and her brother, Second Lieutenant Robert F. Bellmon, Armor (USMA ’64), served as an usher. Miss Bellmon was attended by Mrs. Allan Wood as her matron of honor.
Captain Jean-Philippe Portet, who “flew the Hump” in the China-Burma -India Theater as a Captain, US Army Air Corps, during World War II, and is now Chief Pilot of Air Simba, the state airline of the former Belgian Congo, served as Lieutenant Portet’s best man.
Major General Bellmon (USMA ’39) is the son of the late Major General and Mrs. Herbert Bellmon, USA, and Mrs. Bellmon is the daughter of the late Major General and Mrs. Porterman K. Waterford, USA. Her brother, Brig Gen Porterman K. Waterford IV (USMA ’42), is Commandant of Cadets at the US Military Academy, West Point, N.Y.
First Lieutenant Portet, who is an Army Aviator and Parachutist, is qualified in multiengine aircraft, and holds a Special Instrument Rating. He has also completed Special Forces (“Green Beret”) training. He is assigned as an Aviation Officer on the staff of the Commanding General, at the John F. Kennedy Center for Special Warfare, Fort Bragg, N.C.
Following the nuptial ceremony, 1st Lt and Mrs. Portet exited the chapel beneath an arc of swords. The honor platoon of officers was commanded by Captain John S. Oliver, Armor, until recently aide-de -camp to Major General Bellmon.
A reception was held at the Fort Rucker Officers’ Open Mess, following which First Lieutenant and Mrs. Portet departed for a wedding trip to Florida. They will reside at Fort Bragg, N.C.
Mrs. Liza Wood did not speak to Captain John S. Oliver during the wedding rehearsal, nor the wedding dinner, nor during the wedding itself, and she did not attend the reception.
[ FIVE ]
Room 1105
Ocean Breeze Motel
Panama City, Florida
0845 24 December 1964
Mrs. Jacques Emile Portet leaned over her husband, who was asleep on his back, took his nipple between her fingers, and pinched it.
“Mon Dieu!” he yelped, and sat up. “What the hell was that all about?”
“Oh, I like it when you talk French!” she said. “Good morning, husband. Sleep well?”
“Oh, yeah. And you obviously have something against that?”
“No, not at all,” Marjorie said. “But now that we are married, and that marriage has been duly—and I must say well—consummated . . .”
“Thank you very much. Be sure to tell your friends.”
“We have to talk, and the way you looked, you were going to sleep until noon.”
“Talk about what?”
“What happens now.”
“I think the plan was to get up, have breakfast, and take off for Ocean Reef.”
“I mean, after Ocean Reef.”
“We go back to Rucker. I have to be there January second— but, as we discussed, wife, we could go back in time for New Year’s Eve at the club, if that is your desire.”
“Then?”
“Then Pappy and I go out to Wichita and pick up an L-23 at the Beechcraft plant, which I will then fly back to Rucker. I will then stand around the SCATSA hangar and watch them do whatever they’re going to do with the L-23. And when they’ve finished doing whatever they’re going to do with the L-23, I will take it to Bragg, while my bride drives the family Jaguar up there.”
̒̒̒̒“ ‘ Family Jaguar’? Didn’t I hear you say, before God and a chapel full of people, that you were about to endow me with all your worldly goods?”
“I wasn’t thinking about my Jaguar when I made that promise, ” he said. He paused. “But if you want the Jag, baby, it’s yours. Wedding present. And if driving it up there bothers you, honey, I could deliver the L-23 up there, catch a commercial flight back to Rucker, and we could drive up there together, in your Jaguar.”
“You do understand I was pulling your leg?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have much experience dealing with a wife.”
“So far, you’re doing very well,” she said. “And now that I’ve had a chance to think about it, I sort of like the sound of ‘family Jaguar.’ ”
“Whatever I have is yours, baby,” Jack said.
She lowered her face to his and kissed him, at first very tenderly.
Five minutes later, lying with her face against his chest, she asked:
“What’s that all about?”
“What’s what all about?”
“The L-23.”
“I don’t really know,” he said.
“You don’t really know, or it’s classified, and you don’t think you can tell me?”
“I’m sure it’s classified,” he said. “Everything around Colonel Felter seems to be classified Top Secret.”
“First reminding you that your wife is not some airhead you picked up in a honky-tonk outside the gate, but a fifth-generation Army brat who knows all about security classifications, and is not going to say anything about anything to anybody, are you going to tell me or not?”
“I wondered about that,” he said seriously. “Every time they tell you a secret, the usual line is ‘This goes no further, and that includes your wife.’ And I wondered how I would handle that with you.”
“And?”
“And, I figured, fuck it, I’ll tell her everything.”
“I don’t like the language, but I approve of the decision,” she said.
“Sorry.”
“So what’s with the L-23?”
“I really don’t know. It’s a Felter operation. He told Pappy to pick up the airplane at Beech, take it to SCATSA—what the hell is SCATSA, anyway?”
“It stands for Signal Corps Aviation Test and Support Activity, ” Marjorie said. “It’s not under Fort Rucker. It’s what they call a Class II activity; it takes its orders from the chief signal officer. Among other things, it provides avionic support to the Aviation Test Board and Combat Developments. And this won’t be the first nobody-talks-about-it job they’ve done for Uncle Sandy. You don’t know what they’re going to do to it?”
“Equip it with navigation equipment, and maybe auxiliary fuel tanks so that it can be ferried to Argentina and used there.”
“What’s that got to do with you? Which raises the question: What are you going to be doing at Fort Bragg?”
“I can’t imagine how it will have anything to do with me. I think all I’m going to do is fly it up there. Felter probably has some other iron in the fire. And what I’m going to be doing at Bragg has its own security clearance. Top Secret Slash Earnest. Felter found out somewhere that Che Guevara—Ernesto Guevara, hence Earnest—is going to try to cause trouble in the Congo. And we’re going to stop him.”
“I don’t think I like the sound of that,” Marjorie said. “You’re going back over there? When?”
“Now you’re going to be told stuff I was expressly ordered not to tell anyone,” Jack said. “Father Lunsford—the guy who went to the Immoquateur in Stanleyville to try to help my stepmother—”
“I know who he is,” Marjorie interrupted.
“—is putting together a team of black Green Berets to go to the Congo to screw up Guevara. I’m going to help him do that, teach them about the Congo, try to teach them how to pass themselves off as Congolese, that sort of thing.”
“You’re not going to the Congo?”
“I’ll probably go over there with them when they’re ready, to introduce them to people who can help them, but if the question is ‘Are you going to
be involved in their operation,’ no, I don’t think so. Too many questions would be asked. Felter is determined that our operation there be invisible.”
“So we’ll be at Bragg together for a while?”
“Yeah, I think so. Did I tell you that Father found us an apartment? ”
“No. But why should you tell me? What could be less important than where we’re going to live?”
“Father said the lieutenant’s family quarters at Bragg are pretty crummy, so, if I can afford it, he can get me permission to live off post, in an apartment complex, where he lives—and where Johnny Oliver is going to live with him. So I told him, ‘Yes, please, I can afford it.’ ”
“Write this down, husband,” Marjorie said. “What you should have said was ‘Thank you very much, Major. I’ll ask Marjorie and get back to you.’ ”
“Honey, I didn’t think. You don’t like the idea?”
“I don’t like the idea that you didn’t ask me,” she said.
“Hey, baby. This is all new to me.”
“I’m trying to remember that.”
“Look, unless you’ve got your heart set on Ocean Reef, we could go from here to Bragg, you could look the apartment over. . . .”
“No, that would hurt Craig’s feelings,” she said. “We have to go to Ocean Reef.”
“Up to you,” he said.
“Now you’re learning,” she said.
She got out of bed and walked naked to the bathroom.
“I’m for a shower,” she said. “And then we’ll get on the road.”
“Leave the water running,” he said.
“Better yet, how about you wash mine, and I’ll wash yours?”
[ SIX ]
Office of the Army Attaché
United States Embassy
Sarmiento 663
Palermo, Buenos Aires, Argentina
1445 24 December 1964
Colonel Richard J. Harris, Jr., Infantry, the tall, slim, forty-two-year old army attaché of the United States Embassy, looked up from his desk and inquired of Master Sergeant Douglas Wilson, his thirty-six-year-old rather chubby chief clerk (who as a courtesy was referred to as the “sergeant major”):
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