璇玑之心刃·冷血悍将-第171章

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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　of