The New Breed

by W. E. B Griffin

  "Why do I suspect, Ed," Craig Lowell asked, "that this has run through your mind before?"

  "I've got two hot A-Teams just looking for honest employment, Lowell," Mitchell said.

  "You're talking about landing upstream and floating downstream?" the J-2 asked.

  "Yes, Sir."

  "What about the Stanley Falls?" Lowell asked.

  "What about them?" General Evans asked.

  "Can you get over them? For that matter, where exactly are they?"

  "Major?" General Evans asked.

  "Sir," the Major said, visibly discomfited, "I just don't know."

  "You're supposed to be the AIS," Felter said coldly-the Area Intelligence Specialist.

  "No, Sir. I mean-I'm standing in for him," the Major stammered.

  "I sent the AIS over there to work with Dills," General Evans said. "Major Ashe is just filling in. And he's done a good job, too."

  "Sorry, Major," Felter said. "I didn't mean to jump on you. But, Jesus Christ, everybody in the world has heard of the Stanley Falls, and here we sit ready to jump on them, and apparently nobody knows exactly what or where they are!"

  "Sandy, I've looked," Mitchell said. "I even looked in the goddamned National Geographic."

  "We can have an answer-probably-from Leopoldville in twelve hours. Less, if you want to radio for it," the J-2 said.

  "Or I can get the AIS back here in say thirty-six hours," General Evans said.

  "I respectfully suggest, Sir," Felter said, "that the AIS is of more use where he is." Then he chuckled.

  "What's funny?" General Evans said.

  "I'm about to utter a military profundity," Felter said. "If you don't know what you're doing, ask a PFC." The J-2, Colonel Ed Mitchell, and the AIS Major looked at him in confusion. Lieutenant Colonel Lowell and then General Evans chuckled.

  Felter reached for one of the telephones on General Evans's desk. "Sergeant, this is Colonel Felter. Rig up a scrambler to CWO Finton in my office in Washington, will you, please?"

  "Ed," Felter said, "while you're doing your planning, have a shot about infiltrating the Immoquateur Apartment Building. . ." He stopped and leaned forward and pointed it out on the map. And picking up a half-dozen American dependents, either on the way in, your way out, or as a separate, concurrent operation."

  "OK," Colonel Mitchell said. "What are dependents doing?"

  He was interrupted by the intercom.

  "Colonel Felter, the scrambler line is in, but Mr. Finton is not available. I have a Miss Dunne on the line."

  Felter stood up and picked up the telephone.

  "Mary Margaret, do you know where to find Finton?" he asked. She replied and then Felter said, "Well, get over then. Don't phone, go. And tell him I said, as priority one, to have him get PFC Portet on the first plane out of Berlin to Bragg. He is to report to Colonel Edwin Mitchell-that's right, two ells-at the ..the Special Forces Group. And then when you've done that, please call my wife and tell her there's no way I can get home before Sunday. Tell her I'm sorry, but something has come up and she'll have to go to temple alone."

  "Who is this PFC Port-What did you say?" Ed Mitchell asked.

  "Portet," Lowell replied. "He's one of our more traveled PfCs, Ed. More to the point, he knows Stanleyville."

  "More to the point, Ed," Felter said, "his stepmother and half sister are in the Immoquateur Apartment."

  "What's he doing in Berlin?" Mitchell asked.

  "Sandy sent him there to hide him from the hand-wringers and other spineless types in the State Department, the JCS, and the President," CINC STRICOM said.

  Fayetteville Municipal Airport Fayetteville, North Carolina September 1964

  PFC Jack Portet was tired. His uniform was not only mussed and soaked by the rain between the Piedmont airplane and the terminal. And he needed a shave. But first things first. He collected his duffel bag from the baggage carousel, threw it over his shoulder, and looked for a telephone.

  "Seventh Group, Sergeant Major Oliver, Sir!"

  "Sergeant, my name is Portet. PFC Portet. I was told to call this number."

  "Where are you?"

  "the airport in Fayetteville."

  "Hold on," the Sergeant Major said. And then, as if he had put his hand over the microphone, Jack could hear him go on: "Colonel, Portet's at the Fayetteville airport. What do I do now? They can't fly in this shit."

  "Go in the coffee shop and wait," the Sergeant Major went on, his voice now clear. "You in uniform?"

  "Yes."

  "EUCOM patch? Berlin rope?" Members of the Berlin garrison were part of the European Command and wore that shoulder insignia. In addition they wore from their right epaulet a red, black, and white fourragere, a woven, black, red, and white cord with a brass tip.

  "Yes."

  "Somebody will be there to fetch you in twenty minutes," the Sergeant Major said and hung up.

  Jack started to bend over and pick up his duffel bag and then changed his mind. He counted the change in his pocket, then he went and changed two dollars into quarters.

  "First National Bank."

  "Deposit two dollars and forty cents, please."

  "Miss Marjorie Bellmon, please." Two eons and a century and a half later:

  "Marjorie Bellmon." There was no immediate reply. "Hello?"

  "Hi."

  "Jack!"

  "Hi."

  "Honey, where are you?"

  "In the airport at Fayetteville, North Carolina."

  "What are you doing there?"

  "I don't know," he said. "I can make some interesting guesses."

  "How long have you been in the States?"

  "About five hours," he said. "I'm waiting for somebody to pick me up."

  "You don't know who? Or you can't tell me?"

  "They gave me the phone number of some colonel-Mitchell -and my orders read '7th SFG,' whatever the hell that means."

  "Seventh Special Forces Group," she said. "That'd be Colonel Ed Mitchell. He's a friend of Daddy's and of Uncle Sandy's."

  "I wonder why that doesn't surprise me. Anyway, you didn't hear it from me. And for God's sake don't tell your father." She giggled.

  "How's the car?"

  "Not 'How are you?' Just how's the car?"

  "What did you do, run it into something?"

  "You can go to hell, Jack Portet!"

  "I love you," he said. "Was that what you were fishing for?"

  "Absolutely."

  "And now I wait, with bated breath, for a reply in kind."

  "I can't do that, for the obvious reason."

  "I don't care if anybody knows," he said. "You do, I guess."

  "I love you," she said.

  "Much better."

  "when can you come here?"

  "Don't hold your breath," Jack said. "As soon as I find out something I'll call you back."

  "But you are going to be there a while?"

  "Honey, I don't know. I feel like a shuttlecock."

  "As soon as you know anything, you call me."

  "If I ever get close to a phone again, I'll call anyway," Jack said.

  "You want to say it again?"

  "I don't think that's possible under the circumstances."

  "Well, we now know who feels strongest about who, don't "

  "Deposit one dollar and thirty cents for an additional three minutes please."

  "don't have it," Jack said.

  "love you, Jack," Marjorie said.

  The line went dead.

  He hung up the phone and replayed the sound of her voice in his ears for a moment, and then picked up his duffel bag and went looking for the coffee shop. He ordered a cup of coffee and donut, and then saw a newspaper in a rack by the cash register. The word CONGO in a headline halfway down the page caught his eye and he got up and bought the paper.

  TITLE: full headline was: UN'S U THANT REPORTS AMERICANS IN CONGO CONSIDERED REBEL HOSTAGES.

  "Twenty minutes later Jack was so deep in thought that he did not see the man in camo
uflage fatigues approaching- until he slid into a chair at the table.

  "Portet?"

  "Yeah."

  "Finish your coffee," the man said. And only then did Jack look up, he wore the bars of a captain on his collar points. He looked at him. "I didn't see the bars," he said.

  "No sweat," the Captain said. He put out his hand. "My name is Stacey." Jack shook his hand. "What's going on? Am I allowed to ask?"

  "First you finish your coffee," Captain Stacey said. "And then you put this on and we walk out of here and get in my truck." He pushed a green beret across the table.

  "What the hell is that? I'm not a Green Beret!"

  "The first and great commandment around here, Portet, is that you do what you're told. Then you can ask questions." Jack looked at him and saw that he was serious. He shrugged and put the green beret on.

  "Very good," Captain Stacey said. "And to complete my response to your interrogatory, PFC Portet, after we get in my truck, we will drive to the boonies where my associates and I are making plans to get your stepmother and stepsister back where they belong." Jack looked at him and saw that the Captain was dead serious about that, too.

  "Really?" he asked.

  Captain Stacey nodded.

  xx

  Leopoldville, Democratic Republic of the Congo .. September 1964

  FM US EMBASSY LEOPOLDVILLE DEM REPCONGO TO SECSTATE WASH DC LEOPOLDVILLE SITUATION UPDATE AS OF 2400 ZULU 5 SEPPTEMBER 1964 SOURCE RATING ONE PAREN 1 PAREN REPORTS CONSOLGEN STANLEYVILLE AND STAFF REMAIN CONFINED MILITARY PRISON CAMP KETELE ST ANLEYVILLE. SUBJECTED TO MENTAL AND PHYSICAL ABUSE. SOURCE BELIEVES THEIR LIVES ARE IN DANGER BUT HAS NO REPEAT NO EVIDENCE TO SUPPORT.

  IE SOURCE REPORTS NO REPEAT NO EVIDENCE OF CHICOM SUPPLY OF OLENGA EXCEPT POSSIBILITY SMALL ARMS AND R.CL. ALL UNTRACEABLE.

  SOURCE REPORTS THAT AT 0900 5 SEPTEMBER STANLEYVILLE TIME, AT CEREMONIES AT LUMUMBA MONUMENT, OLENGA PROCLAIMED QUOTE PEOPLE'S REPUBLIC OF CONGO UNQUOTE WITH CHRISTOPHE GBENYE AS PRESIDENT AND ..... . EMILE SOUMILAUT AS MINISTER OF DEFENSE. SOURCE BELIEVES POWER REMAINS WITH OLENGA.

  AMABASSADOR CONCURS.

  SOURCE INSISTS FOLLOWING BE RELAYED VERBATIM SPECIFIED ADDRESSEE WASHINGTON QUOTE IN VIEW APPARENT INABILITY FURNISH US MILITARY ASSISTANCE RESPECTFULLY REQUEST DISPATCH PEACE CORPS VOLUNTEERS TEACH PUBLIC SANITATION AS PROTOCOL OFFICERS DID NOT BOTHER TO WASH BLOOD FROM MASSACRE OF HUNDREDS FROM LUMUMBA MONUMENT PRIOR PROCLAMATION OF PEOPLE'S REPUBLIC OF CONGO THUS CREATING UNHEALTHY ENVIRONMENTFLIES MAGGOTS ETCETERA ENDQUOTE SAMESOURCE UNDENIABLY SHOWING SIGNS OF STRESS DUE TO LENGTH AND NATURE OF ASSIGNMENT. REPLACEMENT IMPOSSIBLE AT THIS TIME. SUGGEST ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF SAMESOURCE MESSAGE INDICATING RECEIPT AT HIGHEST ECHELON.

  PANNELL Y DEPUTY CHIEF OF MISSION

  *************

  URGENT FROM WHITE HOUSE WASHINGTON TO US EMBASSY LEOPOLDVILLE DEMREP CONGO PERSONAL ATTENTION US AMBASSADOR REFERENCE YOUR 5 SEPTEMBER STANLEYVILLE UPDATE BY DIRECTION OF THE PRESIDENT RELAY FOLLOWING FIRST OPPORTUNITY QUOTE TEX STUDYING YOUR PEACECORPS SUGGESTION REGARDS SMALL JEWISH SOLDIER UNQUOTE FELTER COLONEL GSC USA COUNSELOR TO THE PRESIDENT

  (Two)

  The U.S. Army Special Warfare Center Fort Bragg, North Carolina 0745 Hours 12 September 1964

  "General Hanrahan's quarters."

  "Mrs. Hanrahan?"

  "Yes, it is."

  "Mrs. Hanrahan, this is Marjorie Bellmon. Bob Bellmon's daughter?"

  "Oh, yes. Hello, Marjorie. It's nice to hear your voice. How's your family?"

  "Just fine, thank you. Is General Hanrahan there? Could I speak to him, please?"

  "Oh, I'm sorry, Marjorie, he's not. Is there anything I can do?

  Can I give him a message?"

  "No, ma'am," Marjorie said, and then: "Daddy asked me to give him something personally while I was here."

  "Oh, you're here?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "I expect him for lunch," Patricia Hanrahan said.

  "Why don't you come over here and have lunch with us? I'm sure-he'd love to see you, too."

  "I would love to, but I'm just leaving. Is there any way-"

  "He's at the office," Patricia Hanrahan said. "I'd send you over there, but I don't think he'll have, time to see you."

  "Well, then, I'll just drop it by your quarters before I leave. Thank you, ma'am."

  "Marjorie-" Patricia Hanrahan said, but by then Marjorie had hung up.

  Marjorie left the pay station in the lobby of the Main Officer's Dub and went out and got in the Jaguar. Since I have already proven how skilled a liar and how devious a human being I am, I might as well see just how far I can go before I get stopped.

  She drove to Smoke Bomb Hill and parked Jack's Jaguar outside the headquarters building of the U.S. Army Center for Special Warfare in a space reserved for official visitors.

  Then she walked to the door. It was locked. She knocked on it. A sergeant first class, obviously the duty NCO, opened the door a crack. He looked at her-approvingly, she decided-and then at the red Jaguar in the parking lot.

  "Ma'am, we're closed for the weekend," he said.

  "I'm here to see General Hanrahan."

  "Ma'am. . ."

  "Mrs. Hanrahan said that when he takes a break, you're to tell mm I'm here. My name is Bellmon."

  He looked at her dubiously but finally concluded that as devious as the bastards might be, he didn't think the Russians could be clever enough to send a well-stacked broad like this one, driving a red Jaguar, to penetrate the headquarters of the Center for Special Warfare.

  "I don't know how long he's going to be in there," the Sergeant said as he opened the door for her.

  "Thank you," Marjorie said.

  She had to wait twenty minutes, during which the Sergeant offered her a cup of coffee and a doughnut. And she gratefully accepted; the last thing she'd had to eat was at three, when she'd stopped for gas.

  She chatted with the Sergeant and told him the truth, but not me whole truth. She told him that she was an Army brat, and that her father was stationed at Fort Rucker.

  And then a door opened down a corridor and the Sergeant jumped up from his desk. "Wait here, please, ma'am," he said and went down the corridor.

  A minute later General Red Hanrahan appeared in fatigues.

  "Here she is, Sir," the Sergeant announced.

  "Hello, Marjorie," General Hanrahan said. "What's going on?"

  "I want to see Jack Portet," Marjorie said. "I'm sorry to bother you, General, but I was over at 7th Group, and they said they never heard of him." General Hanrahan did not reply.

  "I know he's here," Marjorie said firmly.

  "Sergeant," General, Hanrahan said after a moment, "would you go in there and ask Sergeant Portet to come out here, please?"

  Sergeant Portet?

  Jack appeared a minute later. He was in fatigues and jump boots, and there were sergeant's chevrons on the sleeve.

  "This young lady wishes to see you, Sergeant," General Hanrahan said. "I've been wondering how she knew you were here." Jack looked at General Hanrahan and then at Marjorie.

  "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked.

  "I wanted to be with you," Marjorie said simply.

  "Marjorie, does your father know Jack is here?" General Hanrahan asked.

  "No, sir."