璇玑之心刃·冷血悍将-第152部分
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factors made the latter aspect of POLAR CIRCLE … one of the first cover names for what became Operation KINGPIN … extremely sensitive。 Some would see it as a widening of the war。 Kelly looked up； finishing his second cup of coffee。 What was it about politicians？… he wondered。 The enemy could do anything he wanted； but our side was always trembling at the possibility of being seen to widen the war。 He‘d even seen some of that at his level。 The PHOENIX project； the deliberate targeting of the enemy‘s political infrastructure； was a matter of the greatest sensitivity。 Hell； they wore uniforms； didn‘t they？ A man in a bat zone wearing a uniform was fair game in anyone‘s book of rules； wasn‘t he？ The other side took out local mayors and schoolteachers with savage abandon。 There was a blatant double standard to the way the war had been conducted。 It was a troubling thought； but Kelly set it aside as he turned back to the second pile of documents。
Assembling the team and planning the operation had taken half of forever。 Good men all； however。 Colonel Bull Simons； another man he knew only by his reputation as one of the toughest sharp…end bat manders any Army had ever produced。 Dick Meadows； a younger man in the same mold。 Their only waking thought was to bring harm and distraction to the enemy； and they were skilled in doing so with small forces and minimum exposure。 How they must have lusted for this mission； Kelly thought。 But the oversight they‘d had to deal with 。。。 Kelly counted ten separate documents to higher authority； promising success … as though a memo could make such a claim in the harsh world of bat operations … before he stopped bothering to count them。 So many of them used the same language until he suspected that a form letter had been ginned up by some unit clerk。 Probably someone who‘d run out of fresh words for his colonel； and then expressed a sergeant‘s contempt for the interlocutors by giving them the same words every time； in the expectation that the repeats would never be noticed … and they hadn‘t been。 Kelly spent three hours going through reams of paper between Eglin and CIA； concerns of deskbound bean…counters distracting the men in green suits； ‘helpful‘ suggestions from people who probably wore ties to bed； all of which had required answers from the operators who carried guns 。。。 and so KINGPIN had grown from a relatively minor and dramatic insertion mission to a Cecil B。 DeMille epic which had more than once gone to the White House； there being known to the President‘s National Security Council staff—
And that‘s where Kelly stopped； at two…thirty in the morning； defeated by the next pile of paper。 He locked everything up in the receptacles provided and jogged back to his room at the Q； leaving notice for a seven o‘clock walk…up call。
It was surprising how little sleep you needed when there was important work to be done。 When the phone rang at seven； Kelly bounced from the bed； and fifteen minutes later was running along the beach barefoot； in a pair of shorts。 He was not alone。 He didn‘t know how many people were based at Eglin； but they were not terribly different from himself。 Some had to be special operations types； doing things that he could only guess at。 You could tell them from the somewhat wider shoulders。 Running was only part of their fitness game。 Eyes met and evaluated others； and expressions were exchanged as each man knew what the other was thinking … How tough is he； really？ … as an automatic mental exercise； and Kelly smiled to himself that he was enough a part of the munity that he merited that kind of petitive respect。 A large breakfast and shower left him fully refreshed； enough to get him back to his clerk‘s work； and on the walk back to the office building； he asked himself； surprisingly； why he‘d ever left this munity of men。 It was； after all； the only real home he‘d known after leaving Indianapolis。
And so the days continued。 He allowed himself two days of six…hours‘ sleep； but never more than twenty minutes for a meal； and not a single drink after that first beer； though his exercise periods grew to several hours per day； mainly； he told himself； to firm up。 The real reason was one that he never quite admitted。 He wanted to be the toughest man on that early…morning beach； not just an associate part of the small； elite munity。 Kelly was a SEAL again； more than that； a bullfrog； and more still； he was again being Snake。 By the third or fourth； morning； he could see the change。 His face and form were now an expected part of the morning routine for the others。 The anonymity only made it better； that and the scars of battle； and some would wonder what he‘d done wrong； what mistakes he‘d made。 Then they would remind themselves that he was still in the business； scars and all； not knowing that he‘d left it … quit； Kelly‘s mind corrected； with not a little guilt。
The paperwork was surprisingly stimulating。 He‘d never before tried to figure things out in quite this way； and he was surprised to find he had a talent for it。 The operational planning； he saw； had been a thing of beauty flawed by time and repetition； like a beautiful girl kept too long in her house by a jealous father。 Every day the mockup of the Song Tay camp had been erected by the players； and each day； sometimes more than once； taken down lest Soviet reconnaissance satellites take note of what was there。 How debilitating that must have been to the soldiers。 And it had all taken so long； the soldiers practicing while the higher…ups had dithered； pondering the intelligence information so long that。。。 the prisoners had been moved。
‘Damn；‘ Kelly whispered to himself。 It wasn‘t so much that the operation might have been betrayed。 It had just taken too long 。。。 and that meant that if it had been betrayed； the leaker had probably been one of the last people to discover what was afoot。 He set that thought aside with a penciled question。
The operation itself had been meticulously planned； everything done just right； a primary plan and a number of alternates； with each segment of the team so fully briefed and trained that every man could do every function in his sleep。 Crashing a huge Sikorsky helicopter right in the camp itself so that the strike team would not have to wait to get to the objective。 Using miniguns to take down the guard towers like chainsaws against saplings。 No finesse； no pussyfooting； no movie…type bullshit； just brutally direct force。 The after…action debriefs showed that the camp guards had been immolated in moments。 How elated the troopers must have felt as the first minute or two of the operation had run more smoothly than their simulations； and then the stunning； bitter frustration when the ‘negative Item‘ calls had e again and again over their radio circuits。 ‘Item‘ was the simple code word for an American POW； and none were home that night。 The soldiers had assaulted and liberated an empty camp。 It wasn‘t hard to imagine how quiet the choppers must have been for the ride back to Thailand； the bleak emptiness of failure after having done everything better than right。
There was； noheless； much to learn here。 Kelly made his notes； cramping fingers and wearing out numerous pencils。 Whatever else it had been； KINGPIN was a supremely valuable lesson。 So much had gone right； he saw； and all of that could be shamelessly copied。 All that had gone wrong； really； was the time factor。 Troops of that quality could have gone in much sooner。 The quest for perfection hadn‘t been demanded at the operational level； but higher； from men who had grown older and lost contact with the enthusiasm and intelligence of youth。 And a consequence had been the failure of the mission； not because of Bull Simons； or Dick Meadows； or the Green Berets who‘d gladly placed their lives at risk for men they‘d never met； but because of others too afraid to risk their careers and their offices … matters of far greater importance； of course； than the blood of the guys at the sharp end。 Song Tay was the whole story of Vietnam； told in the few minutes it had taken for a superbly…trained team to fail； betrayed as much by process as by some misguided or traitorous person hidden in the federal bureaucracy。
SENDER GREEN would be different； Kelly told himself。 If for no other reason than that it was being run as a private game。 If the real hazard to the operation was oversight； then why not eliminate the oversight？
‘Captain； you‘ve been very helpful；‘ Kelly said。
‘Find what you wanted； Mr Clark？‘ Griffin asked。
‘Yes； Mr Griffin；‘ he said； dropping unconsciously back into naval terminology for the young officer。 ‘The analysis you did on the secondary camp was first…rate。 In case nobody ever told you； that might have saved a few lives。 Let me say something for myself： I wish we‘d had an intel…weenie like you working for us when I was out in the weeds。‘
‘I can‘t fly； sir。 I have to do something useful；‘ Griffin replied； embarrassed by the praise。
‘You do。‘ Kelly handed over his notes。 Under his eyes they were placed in an envelope that was then sealed with red wax。 ‘Courier the package to this address。‘
‘Yes； sir。 You‘re due some time off。 Did you get any sleep at all？‘ Captain Griffin asked。
‘We
