"Your call, Colonel," Lunsford said. "What would you like to do now?"

Supo glanced at his watch.

"It's eight forty-eight," he said. "It will be nine, or later, when the reaction force gets here. I suggest there is nothing for us to do here, and therefore it would make sense to fly down Route Five until we meet the reaction force, tell them what he found here, and then return to Costermansville."

"Sir, we'll be returning Sergeant Withers's body to the States on the 707. Would it interfere with your schedule if we took Withers to Stanleyville before we went back to Costermansville?"

"Forgive me," Supo said. "I should have thought about that. Stanleyville, of course."

Rigor mortis had set in the body of SFC Withers. It was difficult to get his body bag into the Beaver, then strap it somewhat awkwardly into one of the seats, and by the time they had finished, everyone was sweat-soaked.

"Don't get your hopes up too high," Lunsford said to Thomas. "They've had a lot of time to hide. And don't do anything stupid."

"I'm going to get the bastards that did this to Clarence, boss," Doubting Thomas said matter-of-factly.

Then he saluted crisply and trotted off toward Sergeant First Jette, who was going to track the Simbas.

By the time the Beaver started, taxied to the end of the runway, and took off Thomas and Sergeant First Jette had already disappeared into the bush on the other side of Route Nationale Number 5.

[ EIGHT ].

2301 Kildar Street Alexandria, Virginia 0425 7 April 1965 There was a telephone on the bedside table in the bedroom of Colonel and Mrs. Sanford T. Felter. And there was a second telephone inside the bedside table. It was in appearance identical to the telephone on top of the table, but it was not connected to the Alexandria exchange, but actually to the White House switchboard.

When it rang-actually buzzed, like an angry wasp-Felter was instantly awake and quickly took it from the cradle. There was no sense in waking Mrs. Felter.

"Felter," he said.

"Turn the light on, darling," Sharon Felter said. "You're probably going to have to write something down."

"Hold one for a secure call from Mr. Finton, Colonel," the male operator ordered. "Go ahead, Mr. Finton."

"Finton, sir," Finton said. "They just delivered a message from Helper."

"Read it," Felter ordered.

In Room 637 of the Executive Office Building, CWO(4) James L. Finton, who had been sleeping, fully dressed, on the too-small couch in the outer office, picked up the sheet of paper he had just received from the White House Signal Agency duty officer and read from it.

SECRET.

HELP0026 0925 ZULU 7 APRIL 1965.

VIA WHITE HOUSE SIGNAL AGENCY.

FROM: HELPER FIVE.

TO: EARNEST SIXFOLLOWING IS VOICE MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM HELPER SIX PRESENTLY AIRBORNE VIA WOOLWORTH TO THIS STATION.1. REGRET CONFIRM DEATH OF SFC CLARENCE WITHERS AS RESULT OF INSURGENT ATTACK ON OUTPOST GEORGE. REMAINS ARE BEING TRANSPORTED WOOLWORTH. UNLESS ORDERED SPECIFICALLY TO THE CONTRARY, INTEND TO RETURN REMAINS TO FORT BRAGG ON 707. REMAINS ARE NOT REPEAT NOT SUITABLE FOR VIEWING.2. SFC WITHERS WHO WAS ALONE DURING ATTACK DISPATCHED AT LEAST SIX HOSTILES AND WOUNDED AT LEAST THAT MANY BEFORE LOSING HIS LIFE. IT IS INTENTION OF COLONEL J.B. SUPO, WHO VISITED SITE WITH UNDERSIGNED TO AWARD THE CONGOLESE MEDAL FOR GALLANTRY IN THE GRADE OF CHEVALIER POSTHUMOUSLY TO SFC WITHERS. UNDERSIGNED, FULLY AWARE OF THE CIRCUMSTANCES MAKING AN AMERICAN AWARD AWKWARD NEVERTHELESS RECOMMEND IN THE STRONGEST POSSIBLE TERMS THE AWARD OF THE SILVER STAR MEDAL TO SFC WITHERS.3. SUPPORTED BY DET17 AERIAL SURVEILLANCE AND AN ADVISOR ON THE GROUND, AN ATTEMPT IS BEING MADE BY CONGOLESE FORCES TO LOCATE THE INSURGENTS RESPONSIBLE.4. OUTPOST GEORGE WILL BE RECONSTITUTED NO LATER THAN 1030 ZULU 7 APRIL 1965.5. AN AFTER ACTION REPORT WILL BE FURNISHED ON COMPLETION.6. ADVISE SOONEST 707 ETA.HELPER SIXEND VOICE MESSAGEHELPER FIVE FOR HELPER SIXSECRET.

"I thought we sent him the ETA of the 707," Felter said.

"Sir, you authorized a twenty-four-hour hold to see if we could get some additional pilots."

"So I did," Felter said. "And we got them. But did they get off?"

"Yes, sir. And I sent the 707's ETA-before 1300 tomorrow- just now."

"I guess you better wake up General Hanrahan with this," Felter said. "He'll have to go to his office to take it, but that's what he said he wanted."

"Yes, sir."

"And do not, repeat do not, inform the AG yet."

"Yes, sir."

"And when you do that, you might as well go home, Finton."

"Mary Margaret's coming in at 0600, sir. I'll wait for her."

"If I'm not there when she gets there, tell her I'll be in early," Felter said.

"Yes, sir," CWO(4) Finton said. "Break it down, White House."

[ NINE ].

County Highway 17 Laurinburg, North Carolina 0530 7 April 1965 "Hello?"

"Mr. Withers?"

"Yeah."

"General Hanrahan, sir."

"I've been expecting your call."

"The news is very bad, Mr. Withers," Hanrahan said. "We have confirmation that Clarence has been killed."

"Yeah."

"I have some other information, Mr. Withers, that I really would not want to talk about over the telephone."

"You want to come here?"

"Yes, sir, if that would be all right."

"It'll take you what, an hour and a half to get here."

"Actually, sir, I'm calling from a motel-the Carolina-just outside Laurinburg on U.S. 401."

"Charley Taylor's place. It'll take you about ten minutes."

"We'll see you shortly, sir," General Hanrahan said.

Mr. Withers came down the steps from the verandah of his home when the olive-drab Chevrolet stopped on the concrete pad. He was wearing a windbreaker over a stiffly starched white shirt and gray slacks.

Hanrahan was out of the car before Tony could open the door for him. Chaplain (Lt. Col.) T. Wilson Martin and Captain Stefan Zabrewski clambered after him. A muscular Green Beret wearing the chevrons of a sergeant major got quickly out of the front seat.

"You must have got up pretty early to be here now," Mr. Withers said.

"We came by chopper, Mr. Withers-"

"Staff car and all?" Withers asked incredulously.

"Sergeant Calzazzo drove back over last night, Mr. Withers, with Sergeant Major Tinley . . ."

"Good morning, sir," Sergeant Major Tinley said.

"I know that face," Mr. Withers said. "You was with Clarence in Vietnam, right?"

"Yes, sir. We were in the same A Team. I'm sorry as hell about this, Mr. Withers."

"Yeah, we all are."

"Delmar," a female voice called from the verandah. "Ask the gentlemen to come inside."

"That's Clarence's mother," Delmar Withers said. "I was hoping you'd stay in bed."

"I want to know what happened," she said simply.

Withers waved his arm in a signal for them to go into the house.

"That's Tin Man, Clarissa," Withers said, pointing to Sergeant Major Tinley. "He was with Clarence in Vietnam. They was in the hospital together when they both got shot."

"Yes, I remember," Mrs. Withers said.

She led them through the house into the kitchen.

"Can I make breakfast?" she asked.

"No, ma'am," Hanrahan said. "Thank you just the same."

"Delmar told me to expect the worst news," she said. "Is that what you're here to tell us?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hanrahan said. "We have confirmation that Clarence was killed."

"The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away," she murmured. "Praise God!"

"Amen," Chaplain (Lt. Col.) T. Wilson Martin said. "Mrs. Withers, I'm Chaplain Martin."

"How do you do?" she said, and gave him her hand. "What are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"We're Presbyterian," she said.

"I'm Presbyterian," Martin said.

"Most of the black people around here are Baptist," she said. "But the people who owned the place before the Civil War were Presbyterian, and we just stayed Presbyterian, afterward, Delmar's family and mine."

"Yes, ma'am," Chaplain Martin said.

"Ma'am," Sergeant Major Albert "Tin Man" Tinley said. "Maybe I'm out of line, but I knew him pretty well, and I know he would want his daddy to know he went out like a soldier."

"How do you mean?" Mr. Withers asked.

"He took six, maybe more, of the bastards with him, and wounded a lot more."

"That's quite enough, Sergeant Major," Chaplain Martin said sternly.

"It's all right, Chaplain," Mr. Withers said. "I can't find much wrong with calling the bastards who killed Clarence bastards."

"Not in front of the Reverend," Mrs. Withers said.

"When are you going to be able to bring him home?" Mr. Withers asked. "How long is that going to take?" When Hanrahan didn't immediately respond, Withers went on: "We are going to get him back, aren't we?"

"We have a supply plane en route to the Congo right now," Hanrahan said.

"That's where he was, in the Congo?" Mrs. Withers asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Hanrahan said. "The plane will reach the Congo tomorrow, and start back the next day, or the day after that. They'll bring Sergeant Withers with them. And they'll come directly to Pope Field at Fort Bragg."

"He bought a set of dress blues just before he went over there," Mr. Withers said. "They're here. I expect he'd like to get buried in them."

"I'm sure that can be arranged," Hanrahan said. "But . . . I don't know how to say this . . . the message we have said 'the remains are not suitable for viewing.' "

"What does that mean?" Mrs. Withers asked.

"It means he got shot up pretty bad when they killed him, right, General?" Mr. Withers said.

"Yes, sir."