Griffin W.E.B. - The Corps 09 - Under Fire

General Cushman turned to the officer actually in charge of the recovery operation, saw that he wasn't at that mo-ment busy, and asked, "Did he say what's wrong with him?"

"No, sir, and I asked him three times."

"There he is," the captain said.

General Cushman looked aft and saw an Avenger mak-ing what looked like a perfectly normal approach to the carrier.

A minute later, having made a nice, clean landing-his hook caught the first cable-the Avenger was aboard the Badoeng Strait surrounded by firefighters in aluminum heat-resistant suits, other specialists; and even a tractor prepared to push the aircraft over the side if that became necessary.

The door in the fuselage opened, and someone dressed in what looked like black pajamas backed out of it.

"What the hell is that?" General Cushman asked.

"If it's who I think it is, it's someone who's going to spend the next twenty years in Portsmouth Naval Prison," the captain said.

The character in black pajamas reached into the fuselage and took one cardboard carton, and then another, and fi-nally a U.S. Rifle, Caliber.30 Ml, to the strap of which were attached two eight-round ammunition clips.

"Excuse me, General," the captain said. "I'll deal with this. I was going to have him brought here, but I don't want that sonofa-character to foul my bridge."

The captain started down a ladder toward the flight deck. General Cushman looked at the character in the black paja-mas long enough to confirm his first identification of him, then started down the ladder.

As he reached the flight deck, General Cushman almost literally bumped into Lieutenant Colonel William C. Dunn, USMCR, who was suited up for the morning's first sortie.

"Good morning, sir," Colonel Dunn said.

"Billy, is that your friend Captain McCoy?"

"Yes, sir, it is."

"What's going on?" Cushman asked.

"I have no idea, sir," Dunn said.

"Let's go find out," Cushman said. "The captain's talk-ing about twenty years in Portsmouth for him."

Captain Kenneth R. McCoy was standing at attention be-fore the captain of the USS Badoeng Strait-who had his balled fists resting on his hips and was speaking in a rather loud tone of voice-when General Cushman and Lieu-tenant Colonel Dunn walked up.

On seeing General Cushman, the captain broke off whatever he was saying in midsentence.

"Captain, may I suggest that we get off the flight deck?" General Cushman said, politely.

The captain looked at him for a long moment, then fi-nally found his voice.

"Yes, sir," he said. "I agree. If you'll follow me, please?"

The captain, the general, and the lieutenant colonel started to march off the deck. The lieutenant colonel* sens-ing that the captain was not in the parade, looked over his shoulder.

McCoy had picked up one of the cardboard cartons.

"Colonel, I can't carry both of these myself," McCoy said, indicating the second carton.

Lieutenant Colonel Dunn walked quickly back to Mc-Coy, picked up the second carton, and joined the parade.

The captain led the way up interior ladders to his cabin. The others followed him inside. The captain closed the door. McCoy and Dunn put the cartons on the deck.

"Captain," General Cushman said. "May I suggest that since we all are anxious to ask Captain McCoy about a number of things, we probably would be better off to hold our questions until Captain McCoy explains his presence aboard Badoeng Strait?"

"Yes, sir. That would probably be best."

"All right, McCoy," General Cushman said.

"Sir, I felt it necessary to get here before Colonel Dunn took off on the morning's missions," McCoy said. "The only way I could see to do that was to commandeer that Avenger."

"'Commandeer that Avenger'?" the captain parroted. "Who the hell are you to commander anything? Who gave you that authority?"

"I thought we'd agreed to hold our questions," General Cushman said, courteously. "But I think we all would like to hear that one answered."

McCoy handed General Cushman what he thought of as the White House orders.

Cushman read them, raised his eyebrow, and handed them to the captain.

"I've seen them, sir," the captain said.

"Well, that would seem to give you the authority, Mc-Coy," General Cushman said. "But it doesn't answer why you felt you had to come aboard the Badoeng Strait, and why you felt declaring an emergency when there was none was justified."

"Sir, I was afraid we would be denied permission to land."

"And your purpose? What's so important?"

"Those cartons, sir, contain parts for an SCR-300 radio. I have to get them to... where the radio is as soon as pos-sible. I was going to have Colonel Dunn deliver them, sir."

"Deliver them where?"

"Sir," McCoy said, uncomfortably, "with all possible re-spect, I must inform you and the captain that what I am about to tell you is classified Top Secret/White House and cannot be divulged to anyone else without General Picker-ing's specific permission."

"Not even to General Craig?" Cushman asked.

"General Craig is in on this, sir," McCoy said. "But he's one of the very few."

"But the very few include Colonel Dunn?"

"The colonel knows some of this, sir."

"But not, presumably, General of the Army Douglas MacArthur?" the captain asked, coldly sarcastic. "The Supreme Commander?"

"As far as I know, no, sir," McCoy said.

The captain opened his mouth, but Cushman spoke be-fore he could.

"I acknowledge the classification," Cushman said. "Go on."

"Sir, there are islands in the Flying Fish Channel leading to Inchon...," McCoy began.

"Let me get this straight," Cushman said. "You have installed a handful of Marines on this island'- What's the name?"

"Tokchok-kundo, sir."

"And from which you intend to launch an operation to take..."

`Taemuui-do and Yonghung-do, sir."

"And General MacArthur is unaware of this operation?" the captain asked, incredulously.

"I don't believe he is aware, sir."

"Who besides the people you've mentioned knows about this?" Cushman said.

"Just General Howe, sir."

"Who is he?" the captain demanded.

"An Army two-star, sir. He's on the same sort of mission for the President as General Pickering."

`To your knowledge, is the President aware of this oper-ation?" Cushman asked.

`To my knowledge, no, sir. But I'd bet he is."

"Why do you say that?" Cushman asked.

"Because both General Pickering and General Howe are on orders to tell the President anything they think he might like to know, sir."

"We've gone off at a tangent," Cushman said. "Picking up my original question where I think I left it: You have in-stalled your Marines on Tokchok-kundo-"

"And the South Korean national policemen, sir."

"And the South Korean national policemen, and after you got there, your radio was inoperable?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you want Colonel Dunn to airdrop whatever those things are in the cartons to your people?"

"Yes, sir."

"Can you do it, Billy?" Cushman asked.

"If I can find the island, yes, sir."

"I can show you the island on the aerials, Colonel," Mc-Coy said. "The word I left for Zimmerman is that when a Corsair flies over, he will spread a yellow panel between two houses on a hillside."

"I'd have to make three passes, then? One, fly over; two, spot the panel; three, drop your stuff. Won't that attract at-tention to the island?"

"I thought, sir, if you flew out of sight each time, for, say, five minutes..."

"I can do it, sir," Dunn said.

Cushman looked very thoughtful for a long moment.

"It looks to me that what we have here is a presidentially sanctioned covert mission that we are obliged to support," he said, finally. "Wouldn't you agree, Captain?"

It took the captain even longer to consider his reply.