璇玑之心刃·冷血悍将-第141部分

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e　foreman　liked　him。　Playground　equipment。　A　large　swing　set。　A　huge　jungle　gym。　A　sandbox；　plete　with　half　a　dump　truck‘s　load　of　sand。　All　the　things　that　his　two…year…old　son　would　someday　cavort　on　when　he　was　old　enough　for　kindergarten　in　the　Fairfax　County　Schools。　But　it　was　structural　work；　and　it　required　assembly；　and　the　former　Marine　and　two　others　fumbled　through　the　plans　like　fathers　in　a　backyard；　figuring　which　bolts　went　where。　Theirs　was　not　to　reason　why；　not　as　union　construction　workers　on　a　government　contract。　Besides；　he　thought；　there　was　no　understanding　the　Green　Machine。　The　Corps　operated　according　to　a　plan　that　no　man　really　figured　out；　and　if　they　wanted　to　pay　him　overtime　for　this；　then　that　was　another　monthly　house　payment　earned　for　every　three　days　he　came　here。　Jobs　like　this　might　be　crazy；　but　he　sure　liked　the　money。　About　the　only　thing　he　didn‘t　like　was　the　length　of　the　mute。　Maybe　they‘d　have　to　do　something　equally　crazy　at　Fort　Belvoir；　he　hoped；　finishing　the　last　item　on　the　jungle　gym。　He　could　drive　from　his　house　to　that　place　in　twenty　minutes　or　so。　But　the　Army　was　a　little　more　rational　than　the　Corps。　It　had　to　be。
‘So　what‘s　new？‘　Peter　Henderson　asked。　They　were　dining　just　off　The　Hill；　two　acquaintances　from　New　England；　one　a　Harvard　graduate；　the　other　from　Brown；　one　a　junior　aide　to　a　senator；　the　other　a　junior　member　of　the　White　House　staff。
‘It　never　changes；　Peter；‘　Wally　Hicks　said　resignedly。　‘The　peace　talks　are　going　nowhere。　We　keep　killing　their　people。　They　keep　killing　ours。　I　don‘t　think　there‘s　ever　going　to　be　peace　in　our　time；　you　know？‘
‘It　has　to；　Wally；‘　Henderson　said；　reaching　for　his　second　beer。
‘If　it　doesn‘t　…‘　Hicks　started　to　say　gloomily。
Both　had　been　seniors　at　the　Andover　Academy　in　October　1962；　close　friends　and　roommates　who　had　shared　class　notes　and　girlfriends。　Their　real　political　majority　had　e　one　Tuesday　night；　however；　when　they‘d　watched　their　country‘s　president　give　a　tense　national　address　on　the　black…and…white　television　in　the　dormitory　lounge。　There　were　missiles　in　Cuba；　they‘d　learned；　something　that　had　been　hinted　at　in　the　papers　for　several　days；　but　these　were　children　of　the　TV　generation；　and　contemporary　reality　came　in　horizontal　lines　on　a　glass　tube。　For　both　of　them　it　had　been　a　stunning　if　somewhat　belated　entree　into　the　real　world　for　which　their　expensive　boarding　school　ought　to　have　prepared　them　more　speedily。　But　theirs　was　the　fat　and　lazy　time　for　American　youth；　all　the　more　so　that　their　wealthy　families　had　further　insulated　them　from　reality　with　the　privilege　that　money　could　buy　without　imparting　the　wisdom　required　for　its　proper　use。
The　sudden　and　shocking　thought　had　arrived　in　both　minds　at　the　same　instant：　it　could　all　be　over。　Nervous　chatter　in　the　room　told　them　more。　They　were　surrounded　by　Targets。　Boston　to　the　southeast；　Westover　Air　Force　Base　to　the　southwest；　two　other　SAC　bases；　Pease　and　Loring；　within　a　hundred…mile　radius。　Portsmouth　Naval　Base；　which　housed　nuclear　submarines。　If　the　missiles　flew；　they　would　not　survive；　either　the　blast　or　the　fallout　would　get　them。　And　neither　of　them　had　even　gotten　laid　yet。　Other　boys　in　the　dorm　had　made　their　claims　…　some　of　them；　perhaps；　might　even　have　been　true　…　but　Peter　and　Wally　didn‘t　lie　to　each　other；　and　neither　had　scored；　despite　repeated　and　earnest　efforts。　How　was　it　possible　that　the　world　didn‘t　take　their　personal　needs　into　account？　Weren‘t　they　the　elite？　Didn‘t　their　lives　matter？
It　was　a　sleepless　night；　that　Tuesday　in　October；　Henderson　and　Hicks　sitting　up；　whispering　their　conversation；　trying　to　e　to　terms　with　a　world　that　had　transformed　itself　from　fort　to　danger　without　the　proper　warning。　Clearly；　they　had　to　find　a　way　to　change　things。　After　graduation；　though　each　went　a　separate　way；　Brown　and　Harvard　were　separated　by　only　a　brief　drive；　and　both　their　friendship　and　their　mission　in　life　continued　and　grew。　Both　majored　in　political　science　because　that　was　the　proper　major　for　entering　into　the　process　which　really　mattered　in　the　world。　Both　got　master‘s　degrees；　and　most　important　of　all；　both　were　noticed　by　people　who　mattered　…　their　parents　helped　there；　and　in　finding　a　form　of　government　service　that　did　not　expose　them　to　uniformed　servitude。　The　time　of　their　vulnerability　to　the　draft　was　early　enough　that　a　quiet　telephone　call　to　the　right　bureaucrat　was　sufficient。
And　so；　now；　both　young　men　had　achieved　their　own　entry…level　positions　in　sensitive　posts；　both　as　aides　to　important　men。　Their　heady　expectations　of　landing　policymaking　roles　while　still　short　of　thirty　had　run　hard　into　the　blank　wall　of　reality；　but　in　fact　they　were　closer　to　it　than　they　fully　appreciated；　In　screening　information　for　their　bosses　and　deciding　what　appeared　on　the　master‘s　desk　in　what　order；　they　had　a　real　effect　on　the　decision　process；　and　they　also　had　access　to　data　that　was　wide；　diverse；　and　sensitive。　As　a　result　in　many　ways　both　knew　more　than　their　bosses　did。　And　that；　Hicks　and　Henderson　thought；　was　fitting；　because　they　often　understood　the　important　things　better　than　their　bosses　did。　It　was　all　so　clear。　War　was　a　bad　thing　and　had　to　be　avoided　entirely；　or　when　that　wasn‘t　possible；　ended　as　rapidly　as　one　could　bring　it　about；　because　war　ended　lives；　and　that　was　a　very　bad　thing；　and　with　war　out　of　the　way；　people　could　learn　to　solve　their　disagreements　peacefully。　It　was　so　obvious　both　stood　in　wonder　that　so　many　people　failed　to　grasp　the　simple　clarity　of　the　Truth　that　both　men　had　discovered　in　high　school。
There　was　only　one　difference　between　the　two；　really。　As　a　White　House　staffer；　Hicks　worked　inside　the　system。　But　be　shared　everything　with　his　classmate；　which　was　okay　because　both　had　Special　Access　security　clearances　…　and　besides；　he　needed　the　feedback　of　a　trained　mind　he　both　understood　and　trusted。
Hicks　didn‘t　know　that　Henderson　had　taken　one　step　beyond　him。　If　he　couldn‘t　change　government　policy　from　the　inside；　Henderson　had　decided　during　the　Days　of　Rage　following　the　Cambodia　incursion；　he　had　to　get　help　from　the　outside　…　some　outside　agency　that　could　assist　him　in　blocking　government　actions　that　endangered　the　world。　There　were　others　around　the　world　who　shared　his　aversion　to　war；　people　who　saw　that　you　couldn‘t　force　people　to　accept　a　form　of　government　they　really　didn‘t　want。　The　first　contact　had　e　at　Harvard；　a　friend　in　the　peace　movement。　Now　he　municated　with　someone　else。　He　ought　to　have　shared　this　fact　with　his　friend；　Henderson　told　himself；　but　the　timing　just　wasn‘t　right。　Wally　might　not　understand　yet。
‘　…　it　has　to；　and　it　will；‘　Henderson　said；　waving　to　the　waitress　for　another　round。　‘The　war　will　end。　We　will　get　out。　Vietnam　will　have　the　government　it　wants。　We　will　have　lost　a　war；　and　that　will　be　a　good　thing　for　our　country。　We‘ll　learn　from　that。　We‘ll　learn　the　limits　of　our　power。　We‘ll　learn　to　live　and　let　live；　and　then　we　can　give　peace　a　chance。‘
Kelly　arose　after　five。　The　events　of　the　previous　day　had　left　him　more　fatigued　than　he　had　appreciated；　and　besides；　traveling　had　always　tired　him　out。　But　he　was　not　tired　now。　A　total　of　eleven　hours‘　sleep　in　the　last　twenty…four　had　left　him　fully　rested　and　alert。　Looking　in　the　mirror；　he　saw　the　heavy　beard　from　almost　two　days‘　worth　of　growth。　Good。　Then　he　selected　his　clothing。　Dark；　baggy；　and　old。　He‘d　taken　the　whole　bundle　down　to　the　laundry　room　and　washed　everything　with　hot　water　and　extra　bleach　to　abuse　the　fabric　and　mute　the　colors；　making　already　shabby　clothing　look　all　the　more　unsightly。　Old　white　gym　socks　and　sneakers　pleted　the　picture；　though　both　were　more　serviceable　than　their　appearance　suggested。　The　shirt　was　too　large　for　him；　and　long；　which　suited　his　purposes。　A　wig　pleted　the　picture　he　wanted；　made　of　coarse　black　Asian　hair；　none　too　long。　He　held　it　under　a　hot…water　faucet　and　soaked　it；　then　brushed　it　out　in　a　deliberately　sloppy　way。　He‘d　have　to　find　a　way　to　make　it　smell；　too；　Kelly　thought。
Nature　again　provided　some　additional　cover。　Evening　storms　were　rolling　in；　bringing　with　them　leaf…swirling　wind　and　rain　that　covered　him　on　the　way　to　his　Volkswagen。　Ten　minutes　later　he　parked　near　a　neighborhood　liquor　store；　where　he　purchased　a　bottle　of　cheap　yellow　wine　and　a　paper　bag　to　semiconceal　it。　He　took　off　the　twist　cap　and　poured　about　half　of　it　into　a　gutter。　Then　it　was　time　to　go。
It　all　looked　different　now；　Kelly　thought。　It　was　no　longer　an　area　he　could　pass　through；　seeing　the　dangers　or　not。　Now　it　was　a　place　of　sought　danger。　He　drove　past　the　spot　where　he‘d　led　Billy　and　his　Roadrunner；　turning　to　see　if　the　tire　marks　were　still　there　…　they　weren‘t。　He　shook　his　head。　That　was　in　the　past；　and　the　future　occupied　his　thoughts。
In　Vietnam　there　always　seemed　to　be　the　treeline；　a　spot　where　you　passed　from　the　openness　of　a　field　or　farmed　area　into　the　jungle；　and　in　your　mind　that　was　the　place　where　safety　ended　and　danger　began　because　Charlie　lived　in　the　woods。　It　was　just　a　thing　of　the　mind；　a　boundary　imaginary　rather　than　real；　but　in　looking　around　this　area　he　saw　the　same　thing。　Only　this　time　he　wasn‘t　walking　in　with　five　or　ten　rades　in　striped　jungle　fatigues。　He　was　driving　through　the　barrier　in　a　rust…speckled　car。　He　accelerated；　and　just　like　that；　Kelly　was　in　the　jungle；　and　again　at　war。
He　found　a　parking　place　among　autos　as　decrepit　as　his　own；　and　quickly　got　out；　as　he　once　would　have　run　away　from　a　helicopter　LZ　the　enemy　might　see　and　approach；　and　headed　into　an　alley　dotted　with　trash　and　several　discarded　appliances。　His　senses　were　alert　now。　Kelly　was　already　sweating；　and　that　was　good。　He　wanted　to　sweat　and　smell。　He　took　a　mouthful　of　the　cheap　wine　and　sloshed　it　around　his　mouth　before　letting　it　dribble　out　onto　his　face；　neck；　and　clothing。　Bending　down　briefly；　he　got　a　handful　of　dirt；　which　he　rubbed　onto　his　hands　and　forearms；　and　a　little　onto　his　face。　An　afterthought　added　some　to　the　hair　of　his　wig；　and　by　the　time　Kelly　had　passed　through　the　city…