Captain Smythe sat down.

"If I didn't know better, bro," Father said. "I'd suspect you were following us around."

Captain Smythe neither smiled or replied.

"The J J is for Jeremiah, right?" Father asked. is for Jeremiah, right?" Father asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Was your mother carried away with seventh-century Hebrew prophets, or did she pick that out of a phone book?"

The lieutenant chuckled.

"Sir," Captain Smythe said, "may I ask what this is all about?"

"What this is all about, Darrell, is that I ask the questions, and you answer them."

"Yes, sir."

"What I'm really curious to know about you, Jeremiah, is how come a nice black fellow like you from Swarthmore passed up the chance to go, not to Joseph Stalin U, right there in Swarthmore, or the U of P, or even Drexel, but all the way to Norwich in frozen Vermont?"

"I'm not sure I understand the question, sir."

"Think about it. Have a shot at it. Isn't the Norwich motto 'I will try'?" He turned to Jack. "For your general fund of knowledge, Lieutenant, Swarthmore College was founded in 1833 by an abolitionist named James Mott."

"Thank you, sir," Jack replied in English. Then he switched to Swahili. "Why are you trying to piss this guy off?"

In Swahili, Father replied: "It's very useful, sometimes, Jack, to know how well an officer can control his temper." He switched back to English: "You've got something against abolitionists, Jeremiah?"

Captain Smythe, obviously, had never previously heard Swahili spoken.

"Sir," Captain Smythe said icily. "I went to Norwich in anticipation of a military career."

"You ever run into a guy named Gordon Sullivan up there?"

"He was '59, sir. I'm '60."

"Is there anything to the story that he and another Norwich lunatic named Bob Johnson took a mule into the commandant's office and left it there overnight? Causing, the story goes, certain equine excreta damage to the commandant's carpet?"

"I've heard that story, sir."

"How about John Oliver? You ever run into that Norwich maniac? "

"No shit?" Jack asked in Swahili.

"You ain't seen nothing yet," Father replied in Swahili.

"Sir, Captain Oliver and I are classmates," Captain Smythe said.

"And you admit it?"

"Sir," Captain Smythe said, on the edge of losing his temper, "Captain Oliver is a fine, highly decorated officer I am proud to claim as a friend."

"Is that so?" Father asked. "Well, they say appearances are deceiving, don't they?" He turned to Jack. "Get Doubting Thomas on the phone, please, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir," Jack said, and went to a credenza against the wall and got on the telephone.

"Tell me, Jeremiah," Father said, "what kind of an L-19 pilot are you?"

"Sir, I'm rated in the L-19, of course, but I'm also rated as an IP in the Mohawk."

"You're too good to fly L-19s, is that what you're suggesting, Jeremiah?"

"Sir, an L-19 is really a rather basic aircraft. The Mohawk is really at the other end of the scale, in terms of sophistication and required pilot skill."

"And as a Mohawk pilot you feel you have risen above the L-19, is that what you're saying, Jeremiah?"

"Sir, I didn't say that at all," Smythe protested.

"Then what did you say?" Father asked.

"Sir, you asked me what kind of an L-19 pilot I am-"

"And I never got an answer, did I? Let me rephrase. Are you a competent L-19 pilot? Confine your response to "Yes, sir" or "No, sir."

"Yes, sir."

"That wasn't really that hard, was it, Jeremiah?"

On the telephone, in Swahili, Jack said, "Jack Portet, Doubting. Hold one."

In Swahili, Father said, "Get the village drunk on the phone, Jack."

In Swahili, Jack said, "Put Captain Oliver on the phone, please."

Captain Smythe picked up on the "Captain Oliver," and his eyes widened.

"Jack?" Johnny Oliver said a moment later. "I owe you a big one."

"Forget it," Jack said, then changed his mind. "Yeah, come to think of it, Captain, you do. Hold one."

He held up the phone to Father Lunsford, who held up his hand, indicating he didn't want it right then.

"Jeremiah, if I were to ask Captain Oliver what kind of an officer you are, what kind of an L-19 pilot you are, what do you think he would say?"

"Sir, I have no idea," Captain Smythe said.

"I do. I already asked him," Lunsford said.

He took the phone from Jack.

"Say hello to Jeremiah, Johnny. Welcome him to the team."

He signaled for Smythe to go to the telephone.

The conversation took no more than twenty seconds. Father signaled that he wanted the telephone.

"Just for the record, Johnny, you're on my shitlist, and you really owe Jack," Father said. "We'll be back tomorrow or the day after, depending on how we do recruiting mechanics and radio people. Spend the time thinking about how you can square yourself with us."

He hung up and turned to Smythe.

"Might one inquire into the nature of your conversation with Captain Oliver, Jeremiah?"

"Sir, Captain Oliver said, 'Welcome to the team, and the first rule is don't ask questions.' "

"I thought it might be something like that," Father said.

"Sir, I have no idea what's going on."

"Did that sound like a question to you, Jack?" Father said.

"That was more of a statement than a question," Jack said.

"In that case, I think I should try to satisfy Jeremiah's natural curiosity, don't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"From here on, this is Top Secret/Earnest," Lunsford said.

"Sir, I have a Top Secret clearance, but . . . what did you say?"

"As of this moment, Captain Smythe," Lunsford said, "you are authorized access to material classified as Top Secret/Earnest."

"Yes, sir."

"In the very near future, Smythe," Lunsford said, "you will find yourself flying over the lands of our ancestors in an L-19, and a little later, in a Beaver and an H-13-Johnny said you went to chopper school together-assisting our merry little band of covert warriors in fucking up Che Guevara's intentions of taking over the Congo, with the important caveat that we are absolutely forbidden to waste the sonofabitch. Any other questions? "

Father was now smiling.

"I hardly know where to begin, sir," Smythe said. "But there is something I think I should tell you."

"Which is?"

"Sir, I am on Department of the Army general orders to assume command of a Mohawk platoon."

"You were. What happened was that as soon as Johnny remembered you were here, we started the process of having your orders changed. It may already be done."

"As a statement," Smythe said. "The word 'volunteer' doesn't enter any of this."

Father shook his head, no.

"That bother you?"

Smythe thought that over for ten seconds.

"No, sir. I'm a soldier. I go where I'm sent and do my best to do what I'm told."

"That's what Johnny said you'd say," Lunsford said. "The reason we kept you 'til last-since you didn't ask-is because we knew we wanted you. And because I think you and I should now go someplace for a quiet beer, while I fill you in. Jack and his bride have other plans for the evening, right?"

"Did you hear what she said on the plane?" Jack asked.

"About going to see the Goddamned Widow?"

Jack nodded.

"Good luck," Father said.

[ FIVE ].

Quarters #1 U.S. Army Aviation Center and Fort Rucker, Alabama 1905 23 January 1965 Surprising Jack not at all, his mother- and-father-in-law, acting separately and in concert, insisted that he and Marjorie stay with them, rather than taking a room at the Daleville Inn.

"Don't be silly," Barbara Bellmon said. "Marjorie's old bed is big enough for the two of you."

"And you're really going to have to start thinking about money," General Bellmon said. "I don't even like to think how much it cost you to fly Marjorie down here for just two days."

Supper was broiled chicken halves and baked potatoes, both prepared on a charcoal grill by General Bellmon, who put on a white apron with a red cartoon of a man in a chef's hat printed on it.

Marjorie and her mother worked in the kitchen, sipping on white wine; General Bellmon and Jack worked on a bottle of Merlot on the patio while they watched the chicken cook.

Bellmon asked what had happened in the Congo, and Jack decided to tell him. Bellmon not only had a Top Secret/Earnest clearance, but was also a major general and his father-in-law.

He got as far in the story as flying to Stanleyville when Second Lieutenant Robert F. Bellmon, Jr., appeared, uninvited. The story was necessarily interrupted there, as Bobby was not possessed of a Top Secret/Earnest clearance.

"I called Johnny Oliver to ask if he's heard anything about my application," Bobby announced. "He told me you were here."

"And?" General Bellmon asked.

"So I came over," Bobby said. "You should have called me, Jack."

"I meant about your application," General Bellmon said.

"He said he hadn't heard anything," Bobby said. "Jack, could you ask?"

"Bobby, I am a very unimportant lieutenant in Bragg," Jack said.