"My time is your time, Sir," James said, coming across the room to him.
"Would it be a reasonable assumption on my part to to think that a distinguished long-term soldier such as yourself would know someone at Fort Benning of whom you could make a discreet inquiry?" Oliver said.
"I think that would be a reasonable assumption for the captain to make. Yes, Sir."
"The operative word is 'discreet,' " Oliver said. He wrote PFC Jacques Emile Portet on a slip of paper and slid it across his desk to James. "See if you can find out where this guy is. A TWX was sent to Benning ordering him to the Board, but it may not have got there in time to keep Benning from sending him back to Knox. Can you find out?"
"I will give it my best effort, Sir," Sergeant Major James said. "May I infer this is a matter of some importance?"
"Yes, you may."
"It isn't every day that we have the privilege of chatting with someone in the White House, is it, Sir?" James said, and then walked to his desk.
Oliver called the Board. Annie Caskie was back in the office, and she told him that Colonel McNair was due at any moment.
"I'll either call back, Anne, or come out there," Oliver said. "Please don't let him get away."
When he hung up, he saw that Sergeant Major James was on his telephone, and he could hear what he was saying: "Hello, you bald-headed -old bastard, how the hell are you? Jack, I need a favor. . . ."
Five minutes later the telephone rang, Sergeant Major James listened briefly, said, "Thanks, Jack, I owe you one," hung up, and turned to Oliver. "The TWX got there; new orders were cut; PFC Portet is en route here. No details about that, but he says he can probably find out if it's important. "
"No, I don't think that's necessary. There would have been a problem if he was on his way back to Knox. Thanks, Harrison. You're remarkable."
"Good-looking, too," Sergeant Major Harrison James said.
Oliver got up and stood in General Bellmon's office door until Bellmon noticed him.
"Sir; Colonel Felter called. He needed an errand run. Do you want to hear about it?"
"Is it done?"
"Yes, Sir, just about. I have to go see Colonel McNair."
"Then I don't want to hear about it," Bellmon said, and then, "Oh, hell, I guess I'd better." He made a "come on" gesture with his hand.
Bellmon heard him out, nodded, and said, "Well, you better go bring McNair in on it. And when all the round pegs are in the round holes, be sure you call Mr. Finton. Otherwise Felter will call. And if he can't get you, he'll call me, at half past three in the morning."
(TWO] Brookwood Lane Ozark, Alabama
1 April 1964
Allan Wood, crying, "Johnny, Johnny, Mama, Johnny!" ran across the kitchen floor to Captain John S. Oliver, who scooped him up, made a growling noise, and then nuzzled his neck.
Then he grimaced, set the boy on the floor, and called out, "We have a child here who requires a mother's attention."
"What?" Liza called from inside the house.
"If you're going to run around with me, pal, you're going to have to stop crapping in your pants," Johnny said to Allan.
Allan stuck his lower lip out and began to pout. When that did not produce the sympathy he wanted, he started to howl.
When Liza appeared, she was in the act of attaching an earring.
"What happened?" she said, looking at the howling child.
"0l craps-in-his-pants did it again."
"What did you say to him?" Liza challenged as she bent to pick Allan up.
"I said, 'Hooray for you, kid!' "
"He's only a little boy!" Allan stuck his tongue out at Johnny, who returned the gesture.
"Great, set an example," Liza said.
"He started it," Johnny said.
Liza snorted. Then, carrying Allan, she disappeared into the back of the house. Johnny went to the refrigerator and searched for a beer.
When Allan came back in the kitchen a minute or two later, Johnny pretended not to see him. Allan finally made his way to the kitchen table where Johnny sat and held out his arms to be picked up.
"You're the guy who stuck his tongue out at me? And you want to get picked up? No way!"
Allan started to pout and Johnny scooped him up. Allan kissed him.
"You want a little nip, pal?" Johnny said, and extended the beer can. Allan took it and had it at his mouth when Liza came in the kitchen.
"I've asked you not to do that," she said.
"He stole it," Johnny said, unrepentant, but he reclaimed his beer.
"Allan going?" Allan asked.
"I don't know, pal," Johnny said. "Liza, is Allan going?"
"We're going to the Craigs'," she said. "If that's all right with you."
"Fine with me," he said. "A little neighborhood get together. Just like married people. That has a certain appeal, I will admit."
"Stop, or I'm not going anywhere with you."
"Color me stopped," Johnny said. He looked down at Allan. "You're going, pal."
"Allan going," Allan said with satisfaction.
"Tupperware party, or what?" Johnny asked.
Liza laughed. "Ursula called and said Geoff had some steaks flown in from Chicago. And did I think you would like to come?"
"He did what?"
"He had steaks flown in from Chicago," Lisa Said.
"You've seen those ads: 'The World's Best Steaks. Air Freight Free to Your Door. Only Five Dollars an Ounce. "
"It must be nice to be rich," Johnny said.
"It must. Speaking of which, I don't suppose you've had time in your busy schedule to talk to a lawyer about you know what?"
"I thought I told you my strategy was to wait them out and let them come to me with a better offer."
"I remember," she said. "And I remember telling you, oh, bullshit!"
"Are we going to fight tonight?" Johnny asked. "Is that why we're going to the Craigs'? So we'll have an audience?"
"Fight, fight," Allan said.
"Shut up, pal, we're already in trouble," Johnny said.
Liza walked out of the kitchen, returning in a minute shrugging into her overcoat.
"I guess we'd better take a car," she said. "It rained all afternoon and the backyards are a swamp."
They drove Johnny's Pontiac around the block. When they reached the Craig driveway they were a bit surprised at what they saw. In addition to the Craigs' Oldsmobile and Volkswagen, there was a strange car parked there. It was a glisten=g, fire-engine-red Jaguar.
"I didn't know the natives had cars like that," Johnny said.
"Natives meaning what?'" Liza said.
"There's no post sticker on it; ergo a native car."
"I wonder whose it is?" Liza asked as they got out of the Pontiac.
There was another surprise inside, in the person of Miss Marjorie Bellmon.
"Johnny," Marjorie said, "say hello to Jack."
"Hello, Jack," Johnny said. "John Oliver." He offered his hand to a tall young man with closely cropped hair. That identified him as a soldier. The Jaguar
more than likely meant he was an officer, and on flight pay. His age (early twenties, Oliver judged), and the fact that he was with Marjorie, identified him further as probably the scion of some Bellmon-like military family. There was no post sticker on the car, which meant that he had just reported onto the post. And unless you had some sort of social in-that is, unless your father-the-general was an old pal of Bellmon's you didn't get to take the General's daughter out within a day or two of your arrival.
Charley Stevens ain't going to like this competition at all.
"Hello, Johnny," Jack said.
"I like your wheels," Johnny said.
"I like your little boy," Jack said.
"Thank you. Takes after me, wouldn't you say?"
"Oh, damn you, Johnny," Liza said.
Geoff Craig came over.
"You see the Jag?" he asked.
"I saw, and am green with jealousy," Johnny said.
&nbs
p; "You want a beer, Johnny, or something stronger?"
"Give him something stronger," Liza said. "If you give him a beer he'll feed it to Allan."
"Beer, beer, beer," Allan said.
"He's a regular chip off the old block, you see," Johnny informed them.
"It's not good for him," Liza said.
"My mother would argue with you, Mrs. Oliver," Jack said. "She says it's good for kids. I don't mean a lot of it, of course, but a sip now and again. "
"It's not Mrs. Oliver," Liza said.
"But it does have a nice ring to it, wouldn't you say?" Johnny said.
"Sorry," Jack 'said.
"Me, too," Johnny said. "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. "
Liza stormed deeper into the house.
"I guess I put my foot in my mouth, huh?" Jack said.
"It wasn't your fault," Marjorie said. "It was Johnny's."
"If you're waiting for an apology, don't hold your breath, Marjorie," Johnny said.
"I didn't mean it that way and you know it," Marjorie flared. "I'm on your side in that one, Johnny. But you did put Jack on a spot claiming Allan as yours."
"Well, in that case, I am sorry, Jack," Johnny said. "That wasn't my intention."
Geoff Craig returned with a scotch and soda and handed it to Johnny.
"Who pissed Liza off?" he asked. "She marched through the kitchen wearing a marvelous look of self-righteous indignation."
"I guess I did," Jack said. "I called her Mrs. Oliver."
"Ouch," Geoff said. "Well, if she had any sense, that's what she would be."
"She's a widow, Jack," Marjorie explained. "Her husband was killed in 'Nam."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Jack said.
" 'Quickly getting off a painful subject,' " Johnny Said.
"So you just reported in, did you, Jack?" Jack nodded.
"Yesterday."
"Where?"
"The Aviation Board," Marjorie answered for him.
"I think you'll like it out there," Johnny said. "What are they going to have you doing?"
"First they'll have to teach him the Aviation Board swagger," Geoff Craig said, "and that smugly superior tilt of the nose." Marjorie giggled and Johnny smiled.
"I don't know," Jack said.
He's lying. How do I know that?
"You fixed, rotary, or both?" Johnny asked.
"That depends on who you ask," Jack said. He looked in Oliver's face. "I'm a PFC. I'm a pilot, but not so far as the Army is concerned."
"And your last name is Portet," Johnny said. "And you came here yesterday from Benning, and you will be working for Major Pappy Hodges."
"I hate to sound like a character in a Grade-B spy movie," Jack Portet said, "but Major Hodges made it pretty clear that I wasn't supposed to talk about what I'm doing here."
"What do you know that I don't know, Johnny?" Marjorie asked.
"He's your old man's dog-robber," Geoff said. "He probably' knows a lot you don't know."
"You don't have a need to know," Johnny said, "and I don't want Colonel Felter on my case."
"Now I really want to know what's going on," Marjorie said. "Sandy Felter is involved in this?"
"You know?" Jack Portet asked. "The both of you know? Colonel Felter?"
"I thought everybody knows Colonel Sanford Felter," Geoff said. "Sometimes known as Uncle Sandy."
"Quickly getting off another painful, not to mention classified, subject," Johnny said, "so you and Marjorie are old pals, are you?" Jack Portet looked uncomfortable. "Not really."
"Johnny," Marjorie said, "I met Jack today. He came into the bank, to cash a check, and he asked me to have dinner. And. . . well, here I am."
"Just before you arrived," Geoff said, "I offered the opinion that Marj looked like she was in the Garden of Eden and Jack was that famous apple."
Marjorie flushed. "Damn you, Geoff!" she said and went into the kitchen.
"I'll tell you what," Geoff said. "I'll call Ursula in here, piss her off, and then we can all be in the same boat." Johnny and Jack laughed.
Johnny Oliver looked at Jack Portet and remembered what Barbara Bellmon had said to him at the Norwich Dinner; that she didn't think Charley Stevens was the one for Marjorie.
He didn't think she would say that about Jack Portet, not if she saw the way Marjorie looked at him.
[THREE]
Norman, Oklahoma
1020 Hours 18 April 1964
"Norman, this is Army Four Seven One."
"Go ahead, Four Seven One."
"Norman, Army Four Seven One is a U-8 aircraft, at ten thousand, about fifty miles west of your station. "
"Say again your aircraft type?"
"Norman, Four Seven One. U-8. Beech Twin -Bonanza. I just had to shut down my port engine. I am not, repeat, not, declaring an emergency at this time. But I want to make a precautionary landing, and it might be a good idea to have a crash truck standing by. I guess we'll be there in about twenty minutes."
"Four Seven One, Norman. Norman will have emergency equipment standing by I Suggest the use of runway one four ~ Suggest you begin your descent at this time. The winds are negligible, ceiling and visibility unlimited. The altimeter is two niner niner seven. Suggest reporting passing through five thousand and ten minutes out."
"Norman,' Four Seven One understands runway one four.
Four seven One leaving ten thousand~"
"Norman, Four Seven One passing through five thousand. ETA ten minutes."
"Four Seven. One, are you IFR?"
"Norman, Four Seven One; negative. We're VFR."
"Four Seven One, you are cleared for a straight in approach to runway one four. Report over the outer marker."
"Norman, Four Seven One understands straight in, runway one four."
"Four Seven One, emergency equipment in place. The winds remain negligible, ceiling and visibility unlimited."
The Aviators Page 35