The kid is almost certainly Liza's; that probably makes the woman her mother-in-law, Allan's mother.
Liza's surprise at seeing him showed on her face, but she said something to her mother-in-law, who came and opened the door.
"Hello," she said.
"Hello," Oliver said, and then looked over her to Liza.
"Marjorie sent me to see if you need anything," he said.
"Come in, Johnny," Liza said.
She knows goddamn well Marjorie didn't send me here.
"How do you do, Captain?" Mother Wood said.
"And this is Allan," Liza said, picking up the, child. "The kid." She is pissed.
The boy hid his face in Liza's shoulder. Johnny saw Liza again as the madonna she had been when she was pregnant. "Did you happen to know my son, Captain-Oliver is it? Lieutenant Allan Wood?" Mother Wood asked.
"Yes, Ma'am, I did," Oliver said.
"He and Allan were buddies," Liza said. "They went through flight school together."
"Oh, I see." She was smiling, but Oliver saw in her eyes the unfriendly question, Why are you here, then, and my son dead?
Liza handed the child to Oliver; The child didn't like that, and tried to get free.
"Here, let me have him," Mother Wood said, putting her hands out. "You're a stranger to him; he's always finicky with strangers."
Oliver started to hand the child over, whereupon he clung to him desperately and said, firmly, "No!"
"I'll hold him awhile," Oliver said.
The child stuck his tongue out at his grandmother.
"Can I offer you something to drink, Johnny?" Liza asked.
"It'll be awhile until I'm finished."
"Please," he said.
"There's a bottle of scotch in the cabinet," she said, indicating the cabinet with a tilt of her head.
"Will you have one?" he asked.
"Please," she said. "A light one."
"Mrs. Wood?" Johnny asked.
"Mother Wood is a Baptist, Johnny," Liza said. "They don't use alcohol."
"But I never try to force my views on others," Mother Wood said.
"The hell you don't!" Liza said, laughing.
So you just go right ahead," Mother Wood concluded, ignoring her.
In the next twenty minutes Mother Wood learned from John Oliver that he was a bachelor ("Good for you. Bide your time until the right girl comes along, I always say"), that he was Bellmon's aide ("Then you must be something special; I'm sure they wouldn't let just anybody do that"), that he was Regular Army and Norwich ("Until just now I had always been led to believe that Texas A & M was the oldest military school in the country; I can't imagine why I never heard of this Norwich University before"), and that both of his parents were dead (''That's really a shame, I feel sorry for you ").
And Oliver learned from her that Allan had been heavily insured ("Praise God that he understood his responsibilities; I know for a fact that a lot of girls in Elizabeth's position aren't one-tenth as well taken care of"), that Liza had turned out to be a near-instant success as a real estate lady ("And I don't think I'm saying anything I shouldn't, surprising just about everybody, including Allan's daddy and me. She even .. now has her own business, with people working for her and everything"), and that Liza was not without suitors ("Mind, if there's anyone special, Elizabeth hasn't seen fit to confide in me. Which, if you think about it, is not at all surprising, and is the way things should be. You can't mourn the dead forever. We Christians believe that our dead have gone to be with Jesus").
And then the three of them, the women carrying large plates of crustless sandwiches, Oliver carrying Allan, marched back to the Dant house.
Liza and Mother Wood promptly disappeared into the house, where tables of food had been set up, leaving Oliver in the kitchen, still holding the child. He tried to put the boy down, which produced an immediate, indignant, "No!" What the hell do I do now?
Liza reappeared.
"There's more at my house." she said. "Will you help me?" Without waiting for an answer, she took the child from him, ignoring another indignant "No!" and told him to go find Mother Wood.
He followed her back to her house, this time through the intervening backyards.
As they went into her kitchen, she said, "I saw you driving by, looking for a place to park. Why didn't you park in my driveway?
"I didn't think I should."
"Then why did you come over here?"
"I don't know."
"I'm glad you did."
She smiled when she saw the look of surprise on his face.
"Really," she said. "That's why I asked you to come back over here. I wanted to tell you that, and I couldn't do it with Mother Wood around."
"Then I'm glad I came," he said.
She smiled at him. "Now I'll have to find something for you to carry back to the Dants' so that no one will wonder why we came back empty-handed." He chuckled.
She turned to the kitchen cabinets, opened a cabinet door, and squatted down to look inside.
"Oh, I know," she said, closing the door, then standing up and going to another cabinet and opening its door. "A stockpot. We can fill it with lce from my freezer. That's credible. There's never enough ice." She reached up to take a large stockpot from the shelf.
Oliver stepped behind her and put his arms around her. She trembled. He kissed the side of her face, and moved his hand to her breast, and felt as well as heard her deep intake of breath. "Oh, God, I wanted you to do that," she said softly.
Then she turned around and went into his arms and kissed him.
Twenty minutes later, when he carried the stockpot into the Dant kitchen, Marjorie Bellmon was there.
Liza said, "Just put it anywhere, Johnny," and walked past Marjorie without speaking.
"What's that supposed to be for?" Marjorie asked.
"Haven't the foggiest," Oliver said. "I'm just making myself useful. "
"Uh huh," Marjorie said. "It's a good thing I know you're a nice guy, Johnny."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Goddammit, she knows. Does it show, or what?
"I wondered what that business at the chapel was all about," Marjorie said. "She's a friend of mine, and she's a nice girl."
"I know she's a nice girl."
"That's why I'm glad I know you're a nice guy," Marjorie said, and then Liza walked into the kitchen with a nearly empty plate of cold cuts.
"Still here?" Liza asked. "I thought you were going."
"Right now," Johnny said.
He saw that Marjorie Bellmon's eyes were smiling-or was it laughing? at him.
[THREE]
Office of the Commanding General
The Army Aviation Center & Fort Rucker, Alabama
0840 Hours 17 January 1964
"Office of the commanding general, Captain Oliver, aide de-camp speaking, Sir," Johnny Oliver answered the telephone in the prescribed manner.
"Captain, my name is Mary Margaret Dunne," a very pleasant, clear, soft voice announced. "I'm Colonel Sanford T. Felter's secretary. May I speak to General Bellmon, please? "
"The Commanding General of the Army Aviation Center and Fort Rucker, Alabama, was sitting at that moment on that throne on which all men are equal.
Felter! I wonder what General Cronin meant with that remark about Felter being a mouth at President Johnson's ear?
"I'm sorry, Miss Dunne," Oliver said. "General Bellmon isn't available at the moment. May I help you some way?"
"But he's there? I mean, you' can get a message to him right away?"
"Would you care to call back in a few minutes, Miss Dunne? I'm sure he'll be available then."
"Well, if you can get a message to him in a few minutes, perhaps that won't be necessary."
"I'll be happy to, Ma'am."
"Colonel Felter's on his way down there. He has to see General Bellmon today. At the moment he's on Delta Flight 204 to Atlanta, connecting with Southern Airways Flight 104, arriving at Dothan at three forty-five Dothan Tim
e." Oliver, who had learned to have a pencil and note pad at hand whenever he answered the phone, scribbled that information down.
"Yes, Ma'am," he said. "Delta 204 to Atlanta; Southern 104 to Dothan, arriving here at three forty-five local time.
I've got it."
"If there is any change in that schedule, Colonel Felter will let you know."
"Yes, Ma'am. "
"Thank you," Miss Dunne said. "God bless you, young man."
Two minutes later General Bellmon was back at his desk, and Oliver walked into his office.
"Sir, Colonel Felter's coming down here," he said. "ETA at Dothan 1545. His secretary called."
"Well, then, we can expect him at 1545," Bellmon said.
"Sister Matthew is never wrong."
"Sir? "
"Oh, that's right, you 'don't know, do you?" Bellmon said, smiling. "Felter has a staff of two. He's got an office in the old State, War, and Navy Building. You know where I mean? "
"No, Sir."
"It's that ugly building next to the White House. They call it the Executive Annex now, but at one time it held all the Army, Navy, and State Department bureaucrats. My dad used to say it was the ugliest building in Washington. Anyway, Felter has two people working for him. One of them is an old Regular Army warrant officer, used to be a cryptographer.
He's a bishop in the Mormons. The other one is the lady you talked to. She's a Catholic nun-temporarily relieved, released, whatever they say-from her vows so that she can take care of her father, who's dying. Every once in a while she forgets herself and answers the phone, 'Sister Matthew.' I asked Felter what that was all about and he told me. President Kennedy ,had heard about her, that she needed a job, and asked Felter if he could use her."
"That explains the 'God bless you, young man,' " Oliver said. "I wondered about that." Bellmon chuckled. "Colonel Lowell heard about the bishop and the nun, and started calling Felter His Holiness, Moses the First, the first Jewish Pope," he said.
"Sir, Colonel Lowell told me Colonel Felter is a 'Counselor to the President,' " Oliver said, but it was a question rather than a statement.
He thought he saw a flicker of ice in Bellmon's eyes, but after a moment, Bellmon apparently decided he should answer the question. "That's true. That's his title. But no one but the President seems to know exactly what he does. I've often wondered who writes his OER" ~Officer's Efficiency Report. "Lowell says they probably classify it Top Secret President's Eyes Only and leave the blanks empty. Oliver sensed that he was supposed to chuckle, and did so.
"Well, arrange to have Felter picked up, Johnny," Bellmon said. "If he stays over, he'll stay with us. I'll tell my wife. I wonder what he wants."
"She said he has to see you today, Sir."
"Well, whatever it is, it will be interesting." Three hours later, just before lunch, the Cairns AOD called and reported that a U-9 had just called in, about to land. The Army had purchased "off-the-shelf" half a dozen Aero Commanders-six-place, high-wing, rather plush, light twin engine aircraft-and designated them U-9. There was a Code Six aboard, and he wanted ground transportation, but no honors. The name of the Code Six was Fullbright.
"I wonder what that sonofabitch wants?" Bellmon asked rhetorically when Oliver told him.
Oliver waited and Bellmon produced an explanation.
"That's Colonel Dick Fullbright, Johnny. Ostensibly, he's the Army representative to the FAA. Actually, he's CIA. Among other things-which is the-reason I suspect the sonofabitch is here-he's the recruiting officer for Air America."
"Sir?"
"The CIA owns Air America. Remind me to explain the whole operation to you some time-I don't have the time now-but they like to hire experienced people, aviators, preferably people with their twenty years in. They retire at twenty and go to work for Air America at a lot more money than they made in uniform, or we could afford to pay them if we hired them as civilians. In other words, Fullbright scoops the cream off the milk, hiring away from us the very people we really need. And there's not a damned thing I can do to stop him. "
"I see."
"I think it highly unlikely that 'Colonel Fullbright will stop by to pay his respects," Bellmon said dryly. "But if he does, Johnny, you let the bastard cool his heels out there for at least fifteen minutes."
"Yes, Sir." Twenty minutes later, Colonel Sanford T. Felter climbed up the narrow staircase to General Bellmon's second-floor office. He was in civilian clothing, a baggy gray suit.
He looks, Oliver thought, like anything but a West Point full bull colonel of infantry with a second award star on his Combat Infantry Badge.
Oliver was a little surprised how warmly, however suppressed, Bellmon greeted Felter. Bellmon was not a demonstrative man, and for him to wrap an arm around someone's shoulders was highly unusual.
"I got a ride down here with Dick Fullbright, Bob," Felter said.
"1 figured maybe that was' it," Bellmon said. "What's that sonofabitch up to?" Felter chuckled. "He asked that I pass on his respects."
"While he's stealing my pilots, right?"
"I don't know what he's doing," Felter said.
Bellmon snorted.
"I can never understand how you can stand. that sonofabitch, Sandy," Bellmon said.
"How can I answer that? How about a square peg in a square hole?"
"I'd like to pound Dick Fullbright into a square hole," Bellmon said. "With a sledgehammer." Felter laughed and then got right down to business. "This is Top Secret, Bob," he said.
"With your permission, Sir?"" Oliver said, expecting to be dismissed with a wave of Bellmon's hand. To his surprise, Felter insisted that he stay.
"You've got a Top Secret clearance, Captain," he said.
"You might as well hear this." Bellmon gestured for Oliver to take a chair. Oliver wondered how Felter knew he had a Top Secret clearance, and decided that it probably was a given for every aide-an aide couldn't do his job if he had to leave the room every time a Top Secret document was uncovered. "This is in connection with OPERATION EAGLE," Felter said. "It deals with the Belgian-the ex-Belgian-Congo. But aside from that, and the name, that's all you have to know about it right now. Plus what we talk about here, of course. "
"I understand," Bellmon said.
"I'm about to augment the staff of the military attache in our embassy in Leopoldville with a U-8 and two pilots to fly it," Felter said.
"Where are you going to get the U-8?" Bellmon asked.
"They're in short supply, Sandy. I've even heard talk they're going to buy some more U-9s off the shelf."
"One's on its way from the Beech Aircraft plant right now," Felter said. "Charley Augustus's people are going to fit it out with the avionics it nee
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