George Chesbro - Two Songs This Archangel Sings

Kevin Shannon, I thought, must have been on drugs when he dreamed up the nomination of Orville Madison as secretary of state. Or, an even more ominous thought, Madison could have something on Kevin Shannon. It was just what the United States needed; I tried to imagine what the reaction of Americans, and other people and governments around the world, would be when the media began trumpeting the news that the charismatic and dashing newly elected president of the United States had nominated an active, busy-beaver murderer to the top post in his cabinet.

If the fact became known and was believed.

Despite everything that had happened, we still had no evidence that Orville Madison had ever even received a parking ticket, much less ordered the murders of men, women, and children from his office in Langley. The only people left alive who had firsthand knowledge of the connection between Veil Kendry and Orville Madison were two certified loonies, one of whom nobody but the other loony had seen in nine years. That left only the two Frederickson brothers to tell what could be described as wild, unsubstantiated tales, and Orville Madison would be doing his best to rectify that situation once he found out about our latest stop.

"Madison was Veil's C.I.A. controller, wasn't he?" I said.

"Yes," Worde replied.

I shook my head in an attempt to clear it. I was getting a contact high from the marijuana smoke, and I assumed Garth was experiencing the same sensation. The firelight and shadow inside the cabin shimmered and danced before my eyes, and I had to hold on to the edge of my stool in order to steady myself. "Why was Veil taken out of Laos?" My voice had a metallic ring to it, and it echoed inside my head.

"To play toy soldier," Worde answered dryly, sucking on his pipe.

"I don't understand."

Worde grunted, set aside his pipe. "It was near the end of the war, when everyone but the generals and a few politicians knew it was lost. Back in the United States, it was all coming apart almost as fast as it was in Southeast Asia. Every day you had demonstrations in a dozen different cities; you had the march on Washington, the revelations about the Pentagon Papers-all of it. You'll recall that a lot of politicians and military people were blaming the fact that we were losing the war on the media. A few of those people decided to do something about it."

"What did they decide to do about it?" Garth asked quietly. "And who did the deciding?"

Worde shrugged. "Veil didn't know who made the decisions at the top level, so I don't know. But their reasoning went that, since newspapers and television were responsible for an anti-American, defeatist attitude and our failure to win the war, a way had to be found to manipulate newspapers and television in order to get the people to support the war effort. Just about every military and political spokesman had been discredited; nobody believed anything they said. Then some genius decided that it could all be turned around if only we found the right spokesman-a bona fide hero, like Sergeant York in the First World War, or Audie Murphy in the Second. The genius decided that what was needed was a John Wayne type who'd actually fought in the war, and who could fight what was perceived as a publicity battle on the home front."

"They wanted to give that job to Veil Kendry?" I asked in disbelief.

The hidden veteran nodded brusquely. "In fact, at one point the notion had reached a stage where the plan was given a name-Operation Archangel, from Veil's C.I.A. code name."

"Excuse me, Gary," I said, still holding on to the edge of my stool for fear that I would float away if I didn't, "but I can't quite see Veil Kendry as a likely candidate for media hero; too independent, too unpredictable, and too downright violent. I can see Veil punching out some reporter's lights if he didn't like a question. I'm talking about the way he was back then."

"You're right, of course-but only the people who'd actually met or dealt with Veil knew that. As a matter of fact, there had to be dozens of candidates better suited for that kind of assignment than Veil. But then, Veil was the highest decorated soldier of that war; Veil was the Sergeant York and Audie Murphy of Viet Nam. The man had a bagful of bronze and silver stars, and had been awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor twice for bravery in the face of the enemy. This was before he was sent into Laos, and it was how he got promoted to the rank of colonel. Because of his C.I.A. connection and the nature of some of his duties, his awards were kept secret. When Operation Archangel went into effect, everything-or almost everything-he had done would be made public. People might argue about the war, but they wouldn't be able to dispute the fact that Veil was a man of incredible valor, a hero."

"Damn," Garth said hoarsely, in a tone of respect. "You wouldn't be able to even guess at any of that if you looked at his record now."

"I don't know what record you've seen," Worde replied, "or what's been put on it. But what I've told you is the truth of the matter. Of course, the reason he'd done all those things and won all those medals was because he was crazy as a loon; Veil would be the first to tell you that. Veil reveled in the sights and sounds and feelings that destroyed me and so many others; he'd be swimming in blood up to his neck, wading through a field of beheaded and castrated corpses, and barely even notice. In this sense, he was a kind of 'ultimate warrior'; he needed the kind of action for which soldiers are decorated. It was this war record that finally swayed what Veil believed was a small Senate select committee, sitting in secret session, in his favor. Orville Madison, so I'm told, was a master of that kind of political intrigue and maneuvering. It was Madison who'd been pushing hard for Veil's selection, and when the dust finally cleared from all the Washington infighting, Madison had won. The plan became officially known as Operation Archangel."

I asked, "Why was it so important to Orville Madison that Veil be selected?"

"There were two reasons. The first, and the most obvious to everyone, was that Veil's selection for so exalted an honor would reflect very favorably on Madison, since Veil was his man; regular army, yes, but also a C.I.A. operative whose most important work had been done under Madison's control and orders. All of the other candidates had men championing their selection for the very same motive. Veil's selection would be a very large feather in Madison's career cap."

"The second reason?"

"Orville Madison hated Veil's guts."

Garth started to ask a question, but I raised my hand to silence him, leaned forward on my stool. "I think I've got it," I said with an eerie feeling of both sickness and growing excitement. "This was an honor virtually any other soldier would have given anything for, what with its honor, glory, and a full pass home, away from the fighting; but it was something Veil would find intolerable, and quite possibly humiliating."

"That's correct," Worde said. "Combat was something Veil performed as well as-and possibly better than-any soldier who's ever lived, and he desperately needed it, as well, to keep his head straight. He wanted no part of being what he called a 'cardboard hero.' He hated the very idea of the assignment. Madison had known precisely what Veil's reaction would be, and he was probably more than a little concerned that Veil might just say fuck it, tear off Madison's head, and shove it up his ass. It's why Madison brought General Bean along with him into Laos-to back him up, and to make certain that Veil understood that the only alternative to accepting the assignment was a court-martial and the loss of his career. Bean was there to make certain Veil understood he had no choice, and to make him think twice before simply punching out Madison." Worde paused, shrugged. "Veil did what he had to do; he got into the helicopter."