'Anacostia, Master Chief, the helo pad.'
'Aye.' The senior chief dropped the car into gear and headed for the river. He didn't know what it was all about, but he knew it was about something. The Old Man had a spring in his step like the chief's daughter heading out for a date.
Kelly was working on his woodcraft, again, as he'd been doing for several weeks. He'd picked his weapons load-out in the fervent hope that he would not need to fire a single shot. The primary weapon was a CAR-15 carbine version of the M-16 assault rifle. A silenced 9mm automatic went into a shoulder holster, but his real weapon was a radio, and he would be carrying two of those, just to be sure, plus food and water and a map - and extra batteries. It came out to a twenty-three-pound load, not counting his special gear for the insertion. The weight wasn't excessive, and he found that he could move through the trees and over the hills without noticing it. Kelly moved quickly for a man of his size, and silently. The latter was a matter of where he walked more than anything else, where he placed his feet, how he twisted and turned to pass between trees and bushes, watching both his path and the area around him with equal urgency.
Overtraining, he told himself. Youshould take it easier now. He stood erect and headed down the hill, surrendering to his instincts. He found the Marines training in small groups, miming the use of their weapons while Captain Albie consulted with the four helicopter crews. Kelly was just approaching the site's LZ when a blue Navy helo landed and Admiral Maxwell emerged. Kelly, by chance, was the first one there. He knew the purpose and the message of the visit before anyone had a chance to speak.
'We're going?'
'Tonight,' Maxwell confirmed with a nod.
Despite the expectation and enthusiasm, Kelly felt the usual chill. It wasn't practice anymore. His life was on the line again. The lives of others would depend on him. He would have to get the job done. Well, he told himself, I know how to do that. Kelly waited by the chopper while Maxwell went over to Captain Albie. General Young's staff car pulled up so that he could deliver the news as well. Salutes were exchanged as Kelly watched. Albie got the word, and his back went a little straighter. The Recon Marines gathered around, and their reaction was surprisingly sober and matter-of-fact. Looks were exchanged, rather dubious ones, but they soon changed to simple, determined nods. The mission was GO. The message delivered, Maxwell came back to the helicopter.
'I guess you want that quick liberty.'
'You said you'd do it, sir,'
The Admiral clapped the younger man on the shoulder and pointed to the helo. Inside, they put on headsets while the flight crew spooled up the engine.
'How soon, sir?'
'You be back here by midnight.' The pilot looked back at them from the right seat. Maxwell motioned for him to stay on the ground.
'Aye, aye, sir.' Kelly removed the headset and jumped out of the helicopter, going to join General Young.
'Dutch told me,' Young said, the disapproval clear in his voice. You just didn't do things this way. 'What do you need?'
'Back to the boat to change, then run me up to Baltimore, okay? I'll drive back myself.'
'Look, Clark-'
'General, I helped plan this mission. I'm first in and I'm last out.' Young wanted to swear but didn't. Instead he pointed to his driver, then to Kelly.
Fifteen minutes later, Kelly was in another life. Since leaving Springer tied up at the guest slip, the world had stopped, and he'd moved backwards in time. Now he was in forward motion for a brief period. A quick look determined that the dockmaster was keeping an eye on things. He raced through a shower and changed into civilian clothes, heading back to the General's staff car.
'Baltimore, Corporal. Matter of fact, I'll make it easy on you. Just drop me off at the airport. I'll catch a cab the rest of the way.'
'You got it, sir,' the driver told a man already fading into sleep.
'So what's the story, Mr MacKenzie?' Hicks asked.
'They approved it,' the special assistant replied, signing a few papers and initialing a few others for various official archives where future historians would record his name as a minor player in the great events of his time.
'Can you say what?'
What the hell,' MacKenzie thought. Hicks had a clearance, and it was a chance to display something of his importance to the lad. In two minutes he covered the high points of boxwood green.
'Sir, that's an invasion,' Hicks pointed out as evenly?s he could manage, despite the chill on his skin and the sudden knot in his stomach.
'I suppose they might think so, but I don't. They've invaded three sovereign countries, as I recall.'
More urgently: 'But the peace talks - you said yourself.'
'Oh, screw the peace talks! Damn it, Wally, we have people over there, and what they know is vital to our national security. Besides' - he smiled - 'I helped sell it to Henry.' And if this one comes off...
'But- '
MacKenzie looked up. Didn't this kid get it? 'But what, Wally?'
'It's dangerous.'
'War is that way, in case nobody ever told you.'
'Sir, I'm supposed to be able to talk here, right?' Hicks asked pointedly.
'Of course you are, Wally. So talk.'
'The peace talks are at a delicate stage now -'
'Peace talks are always delicate, aren't they? Go on,' MacKenzie ordered, rather enjoying his pedagogic discourse. Maybe this kid would learn something for a change.
'Sir, we've lost too many people already. We've killed a million of them. And for what? What have we gained? What has anybody gained?' His voice was almost a plea.
That wasn't exactly new, and MacKenzie was tired of responding to it. 'If you're asking me to defend how we got stuck with this mess, Wally, you're wasting your time. It's been a mess since the beginning, but that wasn't the work of this Administration, was it? We got elected with the mandate to get us the hell out of there.'
'Yes, sir,' Hicks agreed, as he had to. 'That's exactly my point. Doing this might harm our chances to bring it to an end. I think it's a mistake, sir.'
'Okay.' MacKenzie relaxed, giving a tolerant eye to his aide. 'That point of view may - I'll be generous, does have merit. What about the people, Wally?'
'They took their chances. They lost,' Hicks answered with the coldness of youth.
'You know, that sort of detachment may have its use, but one difference between us is that I've been there and you haven't. You've never been in uniform, Wally. That's a shame. You might have learned something from it.'
Hicks was genuinely taken aback by the irrelevancy. 'I don't know what that might be, sir. It would only have interfered with my studies.'
'Life isn't a book, son,' MacKenzie said, using a word that he'd intended to be warm, but which merely sounded patronizing to his aide. 'Real people bleed. Real people have feelings. Real people have dreams, and families. They have real lives. What you would have learned, Wally, is that they may not be like you, but they're still real people, and if you work in this government of the people, you must take note of that.'
'Yes, sir.' What else could he say? There was no way he'd win this argument. Damn, he really needed someone to talk to about this.
'John!' Not a word in two weeks. She'd feared that something had happened to him, but now she had to face the contradictory thought that he was indeed alive, and perhaps doing things best considered in the abstract.
'Hello, Sandy.' Kelly smiled, dressed decently again, in a tie and blue blazer. It was so obviously a disguise, and so different from the way she'd last seen the man, that even his appearance was disturbing.
'Where have you been?' Sandy asked, waving him in, not wanting the neighbors to know.
'Off doing something,' Kelly dodged.
'Doing what?' The immediacy of her tone demanded a substantive response.
'Nothing illegal, I promise,' was the best he could do.
'You're sure?' A very awkward moment developed out of thin air. Kelly just stood there, right inside the door,
