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

"He said you'd get into that, sir."

"Is there a Navy officer with Mr. Zimmerman? Lieu-tenant Taylor?"

"Yes, sir."

"What else is there?"

"There's a dozen of us, sir."

"Mr. Zimmerman was trying to recruit ex-Marine Raiders," McCoy said, but it was a question.

"I was a Raider, sir."

"And that's why you volunteered for this?"

"Yes, sir," Sergeant Jennings said, then added, "Raiders are something special, sir."

"Yes, we are, aren't we? Women find us irresistible, and movie stars ask for our autographs."

Sergeant Jennings chuckled.

"You were a Raider, sir?"

"A long time ago. At the beginning. I was just out of OCS, a really bushy-tailed second lieutenant."

"There was a Lieutenant McCoy on the Makin Island raid...."

"I was at Makin," McCoy said.

"I thought...," Jennings said, and stopped.

"You thought what?"

"That you might be Killer McCoy, sir."

"Pass the word, Sergeant Jennings, that your new skip-per has the nasty habit of castrating, with a dull knife, peo-ple who call him that."

"Aye, aye, sir," Sergeant Jennings said. "But I have to say this. Knowing that makes me feel a lot better about volunteering for this... whatever it is."

"What we're going to try to do is, dressed up in Korean national police uniforms, take a couple of small islands off Inchon with as little fuss as possible. They're supposed to be lightly defended by second-class troops."

Sergeant Jennings considered that, but said nothing for several minutes.

"There's an army transportation corps major waiting for me in Base Operations," McCoy said. "He's actually a CIA agent, actually the CIA's station chief here. He's been or-dered to give us what support he can. But, I decided in the last couple of minutes, I want him to know as little as pos-sible about what we're doing. Make sure that word gets passed."

"Aye, aye, sir," Jennings said, then went on, somewhat hesitantly: "Mr. Zimmerman said you and he have been in Korea for a while, sir?"

"For a while."

"Why is the Army so fucked up, sir?"

"They didn't train," McCoy said. "It's as simple as that. And they're not all fucked up. There's one regiment-the 27th, they call themselves the `Wolfhounds'-that's first class. And there are others. But what it looks like to me is the brass just didn't expect a war, and just weren't prepared for this."

"Nobody thought this was coming?"

As a matter of fact, Sergeant, I told them it was coming. And they tried to get me kicked out of the Marine Corps be-cause they didn't want to hear it.

"Apparently not," McCoy said. "Okay, turn the lights on and drive me to Base Operations. Maybe this guy can get us someplace more comfortable to set up shop than a ware-house on the pier."

[FIVE]

Major Dunston was waiting for McCoy in a Jeep parked beside the base operations building.

McCoy got out of Jennings's Jeep and walked up to Dunston's Jeep.

"I have to go to the pier in Pusan," he announced. "We have to talk, obviously. Talking in the Jeep Okay with you?"

"Fine, get in," Dunston added. "I know where you're go-ing on the pier."

"You've got people on the pier?" McCoy asked.

Dunston nodded, started the Jeep, and drove off. McCoy made a follow me gesture with his arm, and Sergeant Jen-nings pulled his Jeep behind Dunston's.

"First things first, I suppose," McCoy said. "Are you a major?"

"I'm a civilian with the assimilated rank of major," Dun-ston said. "In War Two, I was an OSS captain in Europe. `Major' Dunston is a convenient cover."

"I'm a Marine captain who was a Marine major in the OSS during War Two," McCoy said. "In the Pacific."

"I know who you are, McCoy," Dunston said. "What do they say? `Your reputation precedes you.' I'm really look-ing forward to working with you."

What is that, soft soap?

What reputation precedes me? The Killer McCoy busi-ness? Or that I was sent home from Tokyo and almost booted out of the Corps?

"One of Colonel Dunn's Corsair pilots was shot down yesterday morning near Taejon, while shooting up a North Korean railroad train. Colonel Dunn flew over the crash site almost immediately afterward. He believes the pilot walked away from the crash."

"And?"

"Extraordinary measures are called for to get him back," McCoy said. "Or to determine beyond any doubt that he's KIA."

"Who is he, some congressman's son?"

"General Pickering's son," McCoy said.

"Jesus Christ!" Dunston exclaimed, genuinely sur-prised. "And the Marine Corps let him fly combat sorties?"

"Why not?" McCoy said. "Joseph Stalin's son was not only in the front lines as an infantry officer but was cap-tured by the Germans."

"I heard that," Dunston said. "He committed suicide in a POW camp by walking past the Dead Line. I also heard the Germans shot the two Germans on the Dead Line machine gun for gross stupidity."

"It would be gross stupidity on our part if we let the NKs know who they may have taken prisoner."

"Yeah."

"You have some reliable agents the other side of the line?"

"Some. A lot of them were caught up in the NKs shoot-anybody-who-even-might-be-dangerous occupation pol-icy."

"Gold talks," McCoy said. "You believe that?"

"Absolutely. What are you going to try to buy?"

"What do you think of putting a price on Pickering?"

"For what?"

"So much for locating him, so much more for hiding him from the North Koreans, so much more-a lot more- for getting him back."

"Let me think about that," Dunston said.

"Sure. But we don't have much time. In the meantime, I'm setting up a small unit to go after him, if he can be found...."

"That's the Marines on the pier?" Dunston asked.

"Right," McCoy said. "And I'm going to need a junk, a junk with a good engine."

"I have one," Dunston said, and added, somewhat smugly, "with a two hundred-horse Caterpillar diesel."

"No kidding?"

"It was used by smugglers," Dunston said. "The national police caught them-before the war started-and confis-cated it, and I swapped them a stock of Japanese small arms for it. Luckily, it was here when the war started-nor-mally I kept it up north, on the East Coast."

This guy seems like he's pretty competent. Which makes him all the more dangerous. If he puts together what we're really doing here, he'll sure as hell tell the station agent in Tokyo, who'll fall all over himself rushing to let Willoughby know.

`Two other things," McCoy said.

"Name them."

"I'm going to have to find someplace to keep my team. I don't want to operate out of a warehouse on the pier."

"And?"

"I need a senior national police officer, a senior one, ma-jor or lieutenant colonel, one who can be trusted."

"Kim Pak Su," Dunston said, immediately. "Major. Very bright."

"Can he be trusted?"

"He got out of Seoul by the skin of his teeth. His wife and kids didn't. They shot his wife, and he doesn't know what happened to the kids."

"The NKs might have gotten word to him that they have the kids, and will shoot them if he doesn't turn. And by shooting his wife, they've made the point they mean it."

"I considered that," Dunston said. "And fed him some al-most good intel to see if it turned up on the other side. It didn't."

Jesus, he is good!

"When can I see him?"

"Tonight, if you want. Tomorrow would be better."

"I'll also need a dozen national policemen for guards."

"No problem."

"And someplace to set up shop?"

"There's a place in Tongnae you could use," Dunston said.

"Where's Tongnae?"

"About twenty miles out of town," Dunston said. "On the water. It's where the junk is tied up, as a matter of fact."

"What's there?"

"It used to be a Japanese officer's brothel," Dunston said. "When our wives were here, we didn't tell them that. We said it used to be a Japanese officer's leave hotel."