Forged in Honor (1995) (31 page)

"Many Burman will come to us, for they now must see nobody is safe with the bastards in power. Have our people bring my grandson to me at the border camp. He will need me, and I need him. Take care of telling the others about the move." The old soldier didn't wait for a response before he strode into the darkness. Only when he reached his but did he let tears of sorrow flow for Stephen, Mya, and his people.

He lay down in the hammock and cried for them all. There was not enough time or enough of the enemy to kill to fill the void in his old heart.

India Staging Base Josh sat up as McCoy pulled a chair up to his cot. "I thought you'd be sleeping," McCoy said.

"I was listening to the choppers come in."

"Yeah, the other teams are all back safely. We just got a secure radio message from our Burma embassy. The Burmese TV news reported the DDSI Strike Battalion wiped out five drug labs and is saying the Shan were involved in supporting the terrorists that hit the embassy. They even showed a Shan leader admitting he provided the explosives."

Josh slapped the side of the cot. "We're not buying that shit, are we?"

The commander lowered his eyes. "That's why I'm telling you, Hawk, to warn you. It's going to be hard to dispute a witness who says to the world that he and his people did it.

On Langley's orders, we're flying out tomorrow at first light for Guam to rest a few days and repaint the birds. The director is going to talk to us once we get back to Washington, and he wants to talk to you personally. The station chief told him you knew Xu Kang. He's going to want you in."

"He's wasting his time," Josh said angrily. "I want no part of it. We've made promises to Xu Kang before and never followed through."

The commander stood. "Sleep on it, Hawk. You've got three days before you see Director Jennings." He turned and walked out of the tent.

Vee sat up on his cot, having heard the conversation.

"Hawk, it sounds like they really need you."

Josh lay back down and closed his eyes. "Now, they want to use me to get to the Chindit. They'll make promises and then leave him out to dry if it turns sour. Believe me, the old man has a better chance if we stay out of it."

"But Hawk, you told the chief that, if Xu Kang was alive, they should help him."

"Yeah, with weapons and equipment, nothing else. If the Company just gives him the stuff he needs, that's fine. But if they want me it means there's more. I don't want any part of them and their harebrained plans. I've seen what they can do.

How are you doin', anyway?"

Vee rubbed his temples as if in pain. "I can't sleep. Every time I shut my eyes I see those poor people and hear their screams."

"Think about your wife and family and take a couple of these," Josh said, handing over a bottle of sleeping pills.

"You're gonna need 'em for the next few days. Once you're home the dreams will go away, at least most of the time."

Vee took the pills and washed them down with canteen water. He lay back down and looked up into darkness.

"Thank you, Hawk, for saving me. I-"

"Just think about getting home and talking your wife into having a son. Forget this op. It was all for nothing."

Vee reached out and patted Josh's shoulder. "I met you, Hawk, and that's something to remember."

Chapter 15.

21 June, Seattle, Washington.

The Customs team arrived at 8 A. M. and finished the inspection just after eleven. They walked down the gangway and motioned to the stevedore crew chief to proceed with the off-loading. Once reaching the wharf, the youngest officer threw his thumb over his shoulder. "That plywood sure would make some beautiful cabinets. How much would a sheet of that cost me at a lumberyard?"

The head Customs officer cocked an eyebrow. "I'd say at least fifty bucks. Teak is gettin' hard to find nowadays."

A hundred yards away, Captain Sing lifted the car phone-- having already dialed the number--and spoke in a monotone.

"The last shipment has just been cleared."

Colonel Po sighed in relief. "Thank Buddha. Report to me at the plant. You will soon have some work to do that I know will please you."

Five miles away, Stephen paid the cashier at a toy store and picked up a large bag holding a yellow skateboard and a Tonka truck. Walking out of the mall, he said to Sergeant Shin, "Thank you for bringing me here. My son will be very happy when he sees these." Just then, the beeper on Shin's belt began buzzing.

The sergeant pulled the beeper free and watched the one sentence message run across the small screen.

"The shipment has arrived--time to work."

He repeated the message to Stephen and said, "Only three days and you will be home to give your boy those presents."

Central Intelligence Headquarters, Langley, Virginia Despite the air-conditioning working overtime, the room seemed hot and stuffy to Josh. He was seated in a conference room with McCoy and the other team leaders, all of them jetlagged. They had landed at Andrews only an hour before and had been choppered to the Langley landing pad. The full subcommittee was there and congratulated them on a job well done, then began reviewing the photos the teams had taken.

Josh's pictures began flashing up on the screen, and he noticed the committee members were squirming and cringing in their seats as they watched the shots he'd taken of the executions.

Thorton, the deputy national security adviser, had had enough and stood up. "I see no need to show any more gruesome pictures and ruin our dinners. This meeting is now irrelevant. The junta has eliminated the heroin problem and has captured the people responsible for the bombing of our embassy. We owe our thanks to the brave men who went into Burma. Gentlemen, I can assure you your efforts were not wasted. The photos prove the junta did what it said it did eliminate the heroin labs. Although we don't approve of their brutal methods, it is not for the United States to question the way Burma runs its operations. The photos and videos will not be released to the public nor will any of us communicate any of what we saw or heard here today. Now, I think we can adjourn this meeting and-"

"Hold it. We still have a helluva big problem," DEA Chief Tuckerman barked.

Every head turned to look at the big man. He stared everyone down and pushed back his chair. He strode to the screen and told the assistant to put up a photo of the tin building. As soon as the picture flashed up on the screen, Tuckerman pointed at the structure. "I was the one who doubted the junta's involvement because of the fact Burma's heroin wasn't on the market. This photo proves one very important thing.

This refinery is huge by heroin production standards. It could probably produce ten to twenty kilos a day. And that's just one refinery. We've seen and heard proof that there were four other almost identical facilities. Gentlemen, where the hell is the heroin these facilities produced? It appears they produced it for some time, but it hasn't showed up on the world market. Where is it?"

Thorton gave a frown and a nod to the DEA chief to show he was concerned, but he said, "The problem, Mr.

Tuckerman, is yours, not this committee's. I'm sure your colleagues will support you in any way they can."

"Bullshit!" Tuckerman said angrily. "It will be a major national security problem if that heroin shows up in the U. S."

Thorton nodded condescendingly. "Mr. Tuckerman, we are well aware of that, but as you yourself said, it is not in the U. S. It's up to you and your administration to make . Sure it does not reach here. Now if I may, I would like to adjourn this meeting. Is there any more business? No? Good day, gentlemen."

Thorton strode for the door while the other members collected their notes. Josh rose to follow the other team leaders out but felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and faced the director of the CIA, who extended his hand.

"You did a helluva job getting your team out," Jennings said. "How about coming up to my office to talk about this Xu Kang fellow you seem to know."

Josh held his ground despite the attempts of the director's eyes to draw him in. "I'll talk to you about Sawbaw Kang, sir, but don't ask me to get involved. I won't do it."

Jennings's expression didn't change, but his voice lowered to a whisper. "What you just heard from Thorton was a facade. He's just as worried as you and I are about their government and where the dope went. He had to play it that way because of who was at the meeting. It's not over, Hawkins we're still going after the bastards any way we can. You think about that, and when you're ready you call me."

Jennings took a card from his pocket and handed it to Josh.

"I put my direct number on the back, and the operator knows to put you through night or day. Call me, Hawkins." Jennings gave Josh one last, penetrating look, then turned around and walked out.

Josh stuffed the card in his pocket and strode into the hallway, where McCoy was waiting for him. He walked up to Josh and smiled. "How'd it go with the director?"

"He laid it on pretty thick, but he's got a short memory about the last time the Agency tried to help the Burmese people."

The commander's brow furrowed. "Yeah, but maybe times have changed." He held out his hand. "Hawk, this is where we say good-bye. Your escort is waiting downstairs to take you home. Thanks again. You brought your team back, and in this business that means a lot."

Josh shook his hand. "I won't say I enjoyed it because I didn't, but thank you for your support."

McCoy handed Josh a piece of paper. "That's the phone number of the Fort Sam Houston Hospital in San Antonio.

Sergeant Major Crow is being flown there to be closer to his wife, and I'm sure he'd want to hear from you."

Josh smiled. "And I thought you were a tough guy, Buck.

If you're ever in D. C. and need a place to stay or eat, call me."

"Too dangerous for me," the CIA man said with a wink.

He slapped Josh's shoulder and walked down the hall.

Josh looked again at the address and suddenly cringed at the sound of a familiar voice.

`There you are, Colonel. I was getting worried," Glenn Grant called.

"Aw hell, not you again," he said, turning to face the approaching woman.

"It's good to see you again too. I'm still your escort, Colonel. Come on, the car's waiting outside."

Josh held up his hand. "I'm not a colonel, okay? I'm just a mister again, but don't call me that either. I'm Josh. Please call me Josh, will ya?"

"If you'll call me Glenn, and not Grant."

"Deal."

The attractive officer led Josh down the stairs and outside to the waiting staff car. She reached to open the door, but Josh blocked her hand. "Gimme a break, will ya? I'm not the president."

Josh opened his own door and got in. The second he sat down he leaned his head back and shut his eyes.

Grant got in on the other side, sat down, and motioned for the driver to go. She looked her fellow passenger over and sighed. "You look horrible, but we need to go over your cover story again. You just got back from the conference in Panama. Security was tight because of threats, and they made it almost impossible for you to call, and-"

Josh slowly opened one eye. "Grant, shut up. I'm beat, and you're giving me a headache."

"You called me Grant. We had a deal, Colonel."

"I take it back, now shut up. I don't work for the army anymore."

"Sony, but that's not true. You're still on active duty until new orders are cut. In fact, the army is trying to do you a favor. They're keeping you on active duty so that you get a full month's pay to compensate for the loss of-"

Josh opened one eye again. "Grant, you're talking again."

She gave him a frigid glare before looking to the front and folding her arms across her chest in defeat. His eyes closed and he smiled.

"Colonel, we're here."

Josh stirred and slowly opened his eyes. His door was open and Grant was standing on the curb in front of the Channel Inn, holding a package. He got out, ignoring her, and took a deep breath of home. He could smell the river, different foods from the exhaust vents of the restaurants, and even the distant fish market's unique smell of boiled crabs.

God, how he'd missed it, he thought, and started walking toward the sidewalk that would lead him to the marina. He took only two steps before he heard pumps on the sidewalk.

"What?" he barked, turning around.

She looked hurt as she held out his suitcase and the wrapped present. She dropped the suitcase and tossed him the gift box. "It's a present for Stef from Panama. I had some friends send it up. It'll help your cover." She spun around and strode back toward the staff car.

Josh sighed and yelled, "Hold it, Gran ... Glenn. Please."

She stopped and looked over her shoulder. He shrugged.

"I'm sorry. I've been an ass, and you don't deserve it.

Thanks for the present; it was very thoughtful of you. I really appreciate it."

She looked into his eyes without changing expression. A moment passed before she turned, walked straight to the car, and got in without looking back.

Josh had seen that hurt look before. Damn, he mumbled to himself. He picked up his suitcase. He got to the channel walk and couldn't help but smile. Meg was sitting on her usual bench, trying to feed the sparrows. He strolled up and winked. "How ya doin', good lookin'?"