Dark Chant In A Crimson Key

had a reputation as a top soldier. I wasn't interested in being any kind of soldier; I was only interested in killing.'

Garth grunted, and for the first time he opened the small notebook in front of him on the table, referred to one of the pages. 'You certainly got that part right about his being a top soldier. He was the youngest major the United States Army has ever had. Word was that he was being groomed by army brass for an eventual top post in the army after the war. In short, he wasn't exactly considered a loose cannon.'

'And then one day he ups and deserts,' Harper said quietly.

I nodded. 'And the same army that had once considered him General Staff material now sent five Rangers after him with orders to kill.'

Harper shook her head. 'It just doesn't make sense. What could have happened?'

'I think he found out something he wasn't supposed to know, and then he had no choice but to split; he knew he was marked for death. I think he found out about Cooked Goose.'

Garth looked up at me. 'The thing you believe was a secret military operation.'

'I don't know what it was-or is. I'm just guessing.'

'Where did you hear about it?'

'A little bird from the CIA by the name of Duane Insolers dropped that name on me during the course of an Alice in Wonderland conversation we were having. He seemed absolutely convinced I'd come to Zurich on some secret mission of my own that was associated with the hunt for Sinclair. He just wouldn't believe the truth, so he kept trying to cue me with names and information so that I'd trust him-at least I think that's what he was trying to do. The subjects I asked you to look into came out of that conversation.'

Garth tapped the notebook with his index finger. 'Where's this Insolers now?'

'Beats me. What did you find out about Cooked Goose?'

'Not a thing,' my brother replied tersely.

'Did you call Mr. Lippitt?'

'Sure.'

'You think he knows?'

'Of course he knows. Mr. Lippitt knows everything. He was the source of information for what I just told you about Sinclair.'

'But he wouldn't talk about Cooked Goose?'

'Nope.'

'Did he give you a reason?'

'He said I hadn't given him sufficient reason to talk about it and that he couldn't see how the information could do you any good. Maybe you should call him.'

'I can't give him a reason why I should know about Cooked Goose until I know what Cooked Goose is.'

'He offered to help get you out of the country.'

'I'm not ready to leave.'

'He also offered some advice.'

'Which is?'

'He said we should put as much distance as possible between us and Chant Sinclair.'

I turned to Veil. 'That advice somehow sounds familiar.'

Veil said, 'I can tell you about Cooked Goose.'

I blinked. 'What?'

'Operation Cooked Goose was a decidedly half-baked plan devised by a renegade faction of super-hawks in the CIA to assassinate other American hawks-pro-war politicians, writers, clergymen, and various cultural leaders.'

Having delivered this announcement, Veil proceeded to begin eating his salad. I glanced at Garth and Harper. Garth actually looked stunned, which was a remarkable display of emotion for him. Harper looked uncomprehending, and I was sure I looked the same.

I tapped Veil on the shoulder. 'Uh, you say hawks were planning to assassinate Americans who supported their position?' 'Right.'

'But why?'

'To discredit the doves by making it appear that the war had literally come home, just as some of them had openly called for. It was sort of an extension of Operation Phoenix, only in reverse. In addition to killing Vietnamese officials who supported the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese, they would also begin assassinating American supporters of our war effort. It was in the last stages of the war, seven or eight months before the eventual evacuation of Saigon. By then it was obvious-to the hawks, at least-that it was the ground swell of opposition in the United States that was causing us to lose the war. The renegade CIA planners reasoned that if American public opinion could somehow be turned around, the military could stage one last, massive assault on the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese that might finally win the war. Cooked Goose was supposed to marshal that popular support by making it appear that the North Vietnamese and their allies had sent ninja-type assassination teams into the country. The thinking was that not even most of the die-hard doves would tolerate the fact that the North Vietnamese had sent assassins onto American soil to kill American leaders. Public opinion would shift, total victory would be demanded, and the full force of the United States Army could be unleashed to mount an all-out air and ground assault on North Vietnam. That's it.'

'How the hell do you know this?' Garth asked, making no effort to hide his incredulity.

'An Army Ranger friend of mine told me all about it over drinks at a bar on Oahu. We'd both ended up there at the same time for a little R and R.'

I was more than a bit incredulous myself. 'How could that be, Veil? This Duane Insolers claimed he didn't even know what Cooked Goose was. He also said it was still one of the most closely guarded secrets this country has.'

Veil grunted. 'And with good reason, don't you think? The reason this guy talked to me about it was that we were both fighters, not planners, and fighters think differently from planners-it's always the planners of deals like this who are anxious to keep what they've planned a secret, usually forever. As you know, I had a reputation as a stone killer. The guy was drunk, he felt the need to talk to somebody about it, and he trusted me. Also, because of my reputation, he just naturally assumed I'd been recruited and was a part of it. He didn't believe me when I told him I wasn't, and he just kept talking. He thought Cooked Goose was a great idea. He was looking forward to being shipped back to the United States where he'd be an assassin for his country. He liked the idea of killing what he called pinko politicians and folk singers once in a while as a break from killing right-wingers, and he especially liked the idea that none of these people would be shooting back at him. Unfortunately for him, he never got to do any of it. He was one of the five Rangers sent after Sinclair when Sinclair took off. I'll bet five thousand of my dollars to your quarter that all five of those men had been recruited for Cooked Goose.'

'Jesus Christ,' I said softly as I felt my heart start to beat faster.

Garth pushed his half-finished salad to one side, turned to face Veil. 'You say this man assumed you'd been recruited for the operation. Why did he think that?'

'Because of my combat record, but most of all because of my martial arts abilities. Remember that the killings were supposed to look like the work of specially trained ninja assassin teams, not shooters. Weapons of choice would be the garrote, dagger, shuriken, or sometimes just hands. I was good with all these things.'

'But you hadn't been approached?'

'No.'

'Why not?'

'I really don't know, but my guess is that I didn't begin to fit the deeper profile of the kind of men they were looking for. Cooked Goose sounds like the sort of nitwit operation my CIA controller would have been in on, or maybe even helped to dream up, and he'd have told the people in charge of recruiting that I was hell on wheels in a jungle fighting situation, but that I was otherwise psychotic and unreliable-and he would have been right, of course. He knew that I needed violence and the presence of danger to keep myself going from day to day, and that I'd have no use for Cooked Goose, namely sitting-duck, targets. He understood that I was fighting for my own reasons, and these reasons had nothing to do with the political or military aims of the United States. My friend, on the other