"Anything within my power, General."

"One of my men was killed the day before yesterday," Hanrahan began.

"I'm sorry."

"We all are. Good soldier."

"What happened to him?"

"That information is classified Top Secret/Earnest," General Hanrahan said. "As of this moment, you have a Top Secret/Earnest clearance for those matters-only those matters-which in my judgment you have the need-to-know."

"Yes, sir."

"He was on an outpost in the former Belgian Congo, which was overrun by an insurrectionist group known as the Simbas."

"I didn't know we were in the Congo," Dr. Emmett said.

"His body was partially dismembered," Hanrahan said. "The head and part of one leg."

"Jesus!"

"His body is now, or shortly will be, en route by air to Pope."

"I see."

"My aide, Captain Zabrewski, and Sergeant Major Tinley," Hanrahan said, nodding at them, "have just come from a funeral home in SFC Withers's hometown, Laurinburg, which is about fifty miles from here. The funeral director told them they need all sorts of paperwork which we don't have, and have no way of getting. "

"The AG isn't handling the return of the remains?"

"So far as I know, the AG hasn't been told of SFC Withers's death."

"Permission to speak, sir?" Sergeant Major Tinley asked.

"Granted," Hanrahan said.

"We were hoping it could be done here, Colonel," Tinley said. "The paperwork, I mean."

"I see," Colonel/Doctor Emmett said. "Captain, would you and the sergeant major step outside for a minute, please? I'd like a word with General Hanrahan."

"Yes, sir," they said, in unison, turned and walked out of the office.

When the door was closed, Colonel/Doctor Emmett looked at General Hanrahan and said, "Jesus Christ, Red, here we go again!"

"Doc, I can't help it."

"You know what it says in the Manual for Court-Martial? Manual for Court-Martial? 'Any officer who willingly and knowingly issues, or causes to be issued, any document'-" 'Any officer who willingly and knowingly issues, or causes to be issued, any document'-"

"-'or statement he knows to be false,' " Hanrahan finished for him, " 'is subject to such punishment as a court-martial may direct. ' The way I read that-'or causes to be issued'-I'm not asking you to do something I'm not doing myself."

"We've had this conversation before, haven't we? Too many times."

"And every time you've come through for me," Hanrahan said.

"Fuck you, Red. I'm thinking of the next of kin."

"Me, too, Doc. This is my fault. I should have known Zabrewski and the Tin Man would have gone to the funeral home without asking me first."

"That was the Tin Man? I've heard about him."

"Withers was on his A team in Vietnam."

"If they hadn't gone to the funeral director, I would have gotten another three-in-the-morning phone call, saying you're at Pope with a little problem, right?"

Hanrahan nodded. "Probably, certainly."

"I'm afraid that funeral director is going to smell a rat now."

"Zabrewski said he told him nothing except that the death took place outside the U.S."

"And if he makes a stink?"

"Then we're fucked."

"Same drill as last time? Understood?"

"Understood," Hanrahan said.

"If you can get the body off the airplane and off Pope without the Air Force knowing and into the hospital, I will do the autopsy. . . . Jesus, you said the head is severed?"

Hanrahan nodded.

"Well, that's the cause of death, then?"

"I'm hoping he was dead, shot, first," Hanrahan said.

". . . and sign the death certificate, and the no-communicable-diseases certificate. . . ."

"Which I thereupon stamp Top Secret, and give the funeral home a copy with the place of death et cetera, blacked out."

"Right. But not my signature, right?"

"I don't think they'd take it without your signature, and that seal, stamp, whatever, that makes little holes in the paper."

"What if the mortician wants the documents verified by a Consul General?"

"This happened before. I gave them a signed, stamped certificate saying that the Consular Verification has been accomplished but misplaced. I planned to do that again now."

"Now there's willingly and knowingly issues," willingly and knowingly issues," Colonel Emmett said. Colonel Emmett said.

Hanrahan shrugged.

"Between you and me, Red, what this fellow was doing, was it important? Is it worth all this?"

"Yeah, it was."

"Don't tell those two anymore than they have to know," Colonel Emmett said.

"They'll have to handle getting the body off the airplane. . . . "

"Anymore than. . . . what's that you're always saying? . . . they have the need to know."

"Thanks, Doc," Hanrahan said.

[ SIX ].

Apartment 10-C, The Immoquateur Stanleyville, Oriental Province Republic of the Congo 1930 8 April 1965 First Lieutenant Geoffrey Craig put his arms around his wife and held her tightly against him. He was surprised at the depth of his emotion; he could not, literally, talk and he was aware that his chest was heaving.

Finally, he found his voice.

"You're out of your goddamned mind," he said.

"I love you, too," Ursula said.

"Jesus Christ, Liebling, you know what happened here!"

"I was in the hand of God then, and I am in the hand of God now. And with my husband."

Without taking his arms off her, he pulled his head back so that he could look at her face. That struck him dumb again.

After a moment he asked, "How the hell did you get on the airplane? What the hell was Portet thinking of?"

"I asked him if he would bring us, or whether I would have to get here myself. He knew I would come either way. Bringing me would be easier on Jiffy. And I could bring all the things I need for Jiffy on the plane."

"Jesus, Liebling, you can't stay here!" he said, and before she had a chance to respond, asked, "Does Felter know?"

Ursula nodded.

"He knew he couldn't stop me."

"I just don't understand your reasoning," Geoff said. There was a suggestion of anger in his voice.

"Marjorie is here," Ursula said.

"Marjorie's out of her goddamned mind, too," he said.

"Marjorie is with her husband," Ursula said. "And now I'm with my husband, and Jiffy is with his poppa."

"What the hell did my mother say?"

"She was a little hysterical," Ursula said matter-of-factly. "Then Hanni convinced her we would be safe in Leopoldville."

"And you're going to Leopoldville, just as soon as I can get you there!"

"You smell from under the arms," she said.

"What?"

"You need a shower."

"I spent all goddamn day in an airplane," he said. "Of course I need a shower."

"Well?"

"How's Jiffy?"

"Taking a nap. Mary Magdalene's with him."

"You brought her back, too?"

Ursula nodded.

"Maybe, by the time you have your shower, he'll be awake."

He looked at her.

"Just as soon as I can get you out of here, you're going to Leopoldville."

"You really smell," she said.

"So you keep telling me," he said.

She pointed toward the bathroom.

He shook his head, finally took his arms off her, and went into the bathroom and closed the door. He sat on the toilet and took off his boots, then stripped out of his flight suit and underwear and got under the shower.

Ursula looked at the closed bathroom door, then started taking off her clothing. When she judged he had had enough time to take off his clothing and get under the shower, she went to the bathroom, saw him vaguely behind the steamed glass door, smiled when she heard him talking to himself, then pulled open the glass door and got in the shower stall with him.

[ SEVEN ].

Apartment 10-C, The Immoquateur Stanleyville, Oriental Province Republic of the Congo 2055 8 April 1965 The word is surreal, Captain James J. Dugan decided as he looked around the living room of Apartment 10-C. surreal, Captain James J. Dugan decided as he looked around the living room of Apartment 10-C. The last week has been The last week has been surreal, surreal, from the moment I was told to call the Office of the Commanding General at Fort Riley. I know better than to think this is a dream from which I will wake up, but that's what it feels like, and the word for that is from the moment I was told to call the Office of the Commanding General at Fort Riley. I know better than to think this is a dream from which I will wake up, but that's what it feels like, and the word for that is surreal. surreal.