W E B Griffin - BoW 05 - The Berets Read online

  An officer with an electronic megaphone appeared on the sail. "Captain's compliments, Captain," he said. "Will you come aboard, please?" his amplified voice boomed.

  A moment later the captain appeared at the cabin door.

  "They want you, too, Lieutenant," he said.

  Ellis, beer can in hand, followed him.

  Sailors on the submarine threw mats of woven rope down from the deck to form a cushion between the submarine and the Over Draught II. After that, two sailors jumped onto the boat and pulled her alongside with boat hooks.

  The.captain grabbed hold of a ladder on the submarine's side and began climbing. Ellis took a final swallow of his beer, threw the can into the sea, and followed him.

  The captain got onto the deck. He saluted the officer standing there and then the national colors.

  "Permission to come aboard, sir."

  "Permission granted," the navy officer said, returning the salute.

  When Ellis climbed up, the navy officer smiled at him.

  "Welcome aboard, sir," he said.

  Ellis saluted him crisply and then the colors, as the captain had done.

  "Permission to come aboard, sir?" he said.

  "Permission granted," the navy officer said.

  "Will you come with me, gentlemen?" another navy officer in stiffly starched khakis said, and led them to an opening in the sail. They climbed an interior ladder and found themselves on the top of the sail.

  An officer wearing the silver eagle of a navy captain on his collar smiled and offered his hand.

  "Lieutenant Davis?" he asked.

  "Yes, sir."

  "And you're Lieutenant Ellis?"

  "Yes, sir."

  The captain handed Ellis a cryptographic machine printout. OPERATIONAL IMMEDIATh

  NO. 11-103 2305 ZULU 28NOV61

  sEcREr FROM COMSIJBFORATh

  COMMANDER USS GATO

  DP. IMMEDIATELY RELIEVE COMMANDER NAVAL AUXILIARY VESSEL

  OVER DRAUGHT II REMAINS LT COMMANDER EDWARD B. EAGLE BURY

  USN. TRANSPORT USN YARD PHILADELPHIA. LIEUTENANT ThOMAS ELLIS. USA, TO ACCOMPANY.

  Ellis handed it back to the captain, who handed it to Lieutenant Davis.

  "You have luggage aboard that boat, Lieutenant?" the cap tam asked.

  "No, sir," Ellis said.

  "We can probably fix you up aboard," the captain said.

  Ellis was surprised first to hear a strange whistle and then to see the captain come to a salute. He looked where the captain looked.

  A steel stretcher Ellis knew the correct nomenclature but couldn't think of it had been lowered onto the Over Draught II. The plastic-wrapped body had then been strapped into it and was now being hauled back aboard. Half a dozen officers and ten sailors were standing at attention, saluting, as a sailor blew on a funny-looking whistle.

  After he had been captured, interrogated, and executed as a spy by security forces of the People's Democratic Republic of Cuba, the remains of Lieutenant Commander Edward Eaglebury, USN." were being paid the appropriate naval honors as they came aboard a United States ship of war. When they had the black-plastic-wrapped bundle on the deck, it was hurriedly taken into the sail.

  "Permission to leave the bridge, sir, and the ship?" Lieutenant Davis asked when the whistling stopped.

  "Granted," the captain said. "Well done, Lieutenant."

  "Effis is the one who did things well, sir," Davis said. He offered his hand to Ellis. "See you around sometime, I hope, Lieutenant," he said.

  "Thank you for everything," Ellis said

  Ellis watched as Davis emerged from the sail and nimbly made his way back onto the Bertram yacht. As soon as he was aboard, the mate, who was at the controls, pulled the boat sharply away from the submarine.

  "Make turns for fifteen knots," the submarine commander said softly, and an enlisted man standing behind him repeated the order into a microphone. Water churned at the rear of the submarine and she began to move. Ellis looked forward and saw the last of the sailors scurry into a round opening in the deck.

  "You have the conn, sir," the captain said to an officer beside him. "When you are ready, take her down. Lieutenant

  Ellis and I are going below."

  "Aye, aye, sir," the officer said, and then called over his shoulder: "Captain leaving the bridge."

  "Captain leaving the bridge," the sailor parroted.

  "Right this way, Lieutenant," the captain said, gesturing for

  Ellis to climb back down the ladder.

  They climbed down what seemed to Ellis like three or four floors, into a room jammed full of officers and sailors and an awesome display of gauges and controls.

  "I don't quite understand your role in this, Lieutenant," the captain said. "Is that a question I'm permitted to ask?"

  "I was with Commander Eaglebury in Cuba," Ellis said.

  "He jumped in with my A' Team a couple of days before the

  Bay of Pigs."

  The captain's eyebrows raised in surprise.

  "Your A' Team? Eaglebury went in as a Green Beret?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "I see," the captain said. "This your first time on a submarine?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Well, we'll try to make you comfortable," the captain said.

  A Klaxon horn sounded.

  "Dive, dive, dive," a voice said over the loudspeaker.

  Ellis had no idea what was going on, but he was impressed with a feeling that everyone seemed to know what he was doing and was doing it without orders. After a minute or so the activity seemed less frenzied.

  "And now we dive?" he asked as he felt the deck tilt slightly forward.

  The captain pointed to a gauge. It read DEPTH IN METERS, and the indicator was inching past fifty.

  The officer who had been left on the sail came up to where the captain stood.

  "Take her to two hundred and fifty, Paul," the captain said, "and make turns for forty knots."

  "Aye, aye, sir."

  "Sparks?" the captain said, and a sailor stepped up to him.

  "Yes, sir?"

  "Message COMSUBFORATL," the captain said. "Reference your operational immediate whatever-the-number-was, in compliance."

  "Aye, aye, sir," the radioman said.

  "You can send messages from down here?" Ellis asked, surprised.

  The captain smiled at him. "No, and we can't make forty knots, either," he said.

  The officer who was running the ship chuckled.

  "I'll be in the wardroom," the captain said. "I need a cup of coffee, and I wouldn't be surprised if Lieutenant Ellis could be talked into having one."

  (Two) The Situation Room The White House Washington, D.C. 2105 Hours, 28 November 1961

  An army warrant officer ran the tape from COMSUBFORATL through the cryptographic machine. Soon a printout appeared, which he then carried to a vice-admiral standing with his hands on the hips, watching the ship location chart on the wall. He waited until the admiral finally noticed him and handed the printout to him wordlessly.

  "Thank you," the admiral said absently, and read it.

  OPERATIONAL IMMEDIATE

  NO. 10-lOS 0105 ZULU 29NOV61

  FROM COMSUBFORATL

  CHO ATrEN: THE PRESIDENT

  MESSAGE FROM USS GATO RECEIVED 0047 ZULU 28NOV61 INDICATES REMAINS LT

  COMMANDER EAGLE BURY RECOVERED. GATO

  PROCEEDING USN YARD PHILADELPHIA. ETA 1230 ZULU 29NOV61.

  BERRY REARADM FOR COMSUBPORATL

  The admiral looked around the room and then walked across it toward a slight and balding man in a mussed gray suit, sitting at a small stenographer's bench not unlike a school desk and bent over a sheath of yellow teletype paper. The man showed no sign that he was aware that the admiral was standing over him.

  "Got a minute to spare, Felter?" the admiral asked dryly.

  The small man closed the sheath of Teletype messages and stood up.

  "Sorry," he said. "I was... what do I say?... concentrating." br />
  "We've heard from COMSUBFORATL," the admiral said, and handed him the message. After he had read it, the admiral continued: "You're going to see the President?"

  "Just as soon as I finish the summary," Felter said.

  "Then you can give him this," the admiral said.

  "Yes, sir," Felter said.

  The admiral walked away. Felter sat back down and resumed reading the sheath of Teletype messages in front of him. When he finished he got up from his stenographer's bench and went to a desk occupied by a navy chief officer. He smiled at him and made a gesture with his hand, asking for the chief's chair.

  He sat down, pulled open a desk drawer and took from it a sheet of paper. The paper had three lines of type printed at the top.

  TOP SECRET (Presidential) Eyes of the President Only

  Duplication Expressly Forbidden

  TOP SECRET (Presidential) was repeated at the bottom of the sheet.

  Felter rolled the sheet of paper in the IBM electric typewriter and began to type very rapidly. At the top he wrote in the date and the hour and ONE PAGE ONLY. Then beneath that, in short paragraphs, he summarized the intelligence information that had come into the situation room since the last summary at noon. He stopped toward the end of the page in order to decide between an assassination of a Turkish lieutenant general and the recovery of the remains of Lieutenant Commander Edward B. Eaglebury.

  The assassination went in. It was the more important of the two items. Then he ripped the sheet of paper from the typewriter and stood up.

  "If there's no call for these by 0800, Chief," he said to the chief petty officer, handing him the sheath of Teletype messages, "will you have them shredded, please?"

  "Yes, sir," the chief said.

  Felter folded the summary in thirds, put it in an envelope, and walked out of the Situation Room. There was a marine guard at a small desk by the elevator. When he saw Felter he opened a drawer, took a Colt.45 pistol from it, and laid it on the desk.

  "I'll have to come back for it,"- Felter said. "I'm going upstairs, not out."

  "Yes, sir," the marine guard said, and put the pistol back in the drawer.

  Felter got in the elevator and rode it to the Presidential Apartments.

  "Are you expected, sir?" the Secret Service man in the foyer asked when he stepped off the elevator.

  Felter shook his head no.

  "Just a moment, sir," the Secret Service man said, and went to the double door at the end of the corridor. He knocked and then opened the door immediately.

  "Mr. Felter is here, Mr. President," he said.

  Then he turned to Felter and nodded his head to him.

  "The President will see you, Mr. Felter."

  Felter pushed the door open and went inside. The President was in his rocking chair with a glass of whiskey in his hand. The Attorney General was sitting in an upholstered chair, also with a drink in his hand. There were two nice-looking women sitting in other chairs, each with a drink.

  "I hope this is a social call, Sandy," the President said.

  "I have the summary, Mr. President," Felter said. "And this."

  He handed the President the envelope with the summary. The President took it, read it, and handed it to his brother. Then he took the message from COMSUBFORATL and read that.

  The Attorney General laid the summary face up on a table.

  "Are you finished with that, Mr. Kennedy?" Felter asked, walking to the table with the evident purpose of reclaiming the summary.

  "I will be, Colonel," the Attorney General snapped, "just as soon as I Xerox a copy for the Kremlin." Bobby did not like Colonel Felter probably, the President thought, because they were so much alike.

  "Easy, Bobby," the President said almost sharply. He walked to the table and picked up the summary and held it out to Felter.

  "Would you like to inform the Eagleburys, Sandy?" the

  President asked.

  "No, sir."

  "All right," the President said, noting that the pout had returned to his brother's face. He thought he had asked a simple question and gotten an immediate, direct answer. He understood Felter's directness and his brevity. Bobby thought Felter's brevity was insolent.

  "Would you like to represent me at the funeral?" the President asked.

  "If I can be spared here, I would be honored, sir."

  "Well, you plan on it," the President said. "We'll see how things are going. I imagine Colonel Hanrahan and his people would like to participate."

  "Yes, sir," Felter said.

  "I'd like to go myself," the President said.

  "Jack, you're not going to have the time," the Attorney

  General said.

  "I probably won't," the President agreed. "But set it up anyway, would you, Felter? Very quietly. If I can find the time, I'll go."

  "Yes, sir," Felter said.

  "And check to see that the navy yard in Philadelphia knows what's going on. I'm sure they'll want to do things right."

  "Yes, sir," Felter said.

  "Tomorrow will be time enough," the President said. "First thing in the morning. Go home now, Sandy. You've been here all day."

  "Yes, sir," Felter said.

  "That is not a suggestion, Felter," the President said.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Good night, Colonel Felter," the President said. "I really don't want to hear myself saying that again."

  Felter nodded at the President, turned around, and walked out of the room.

  When the door had closed after him, the Attorney General said, "I don't know what you see in that creep, why you put up with him."

  "He's bright brighter than you, Bobby." The President chuckled. "You never like people who are brighter than you and who let you know it."

  (Three) Headquarters The U.S. Army Special Warfare School Fort Bragg, North Carolina 1000 Hours, 29 November 1961

  The sergeant major of the Special Warfare School was a tall, crew cutted muscular master sergeant named E. B. Taylor. The office phone was ringing.

  His chief clerk, a younger version of Taylor, a staff sergeant, took the call, then rapped his desk with his knuckles twice, the signal the call was for the sergeant major.

  "Sergeant Major," Taylor said.

  "I have a collect call for anyone from Lieutenant Thomas Ellis," the operator said. "Will you accept the charges?"

  "Put him through, Operator," Taylor said with a smile and a gesture that the clerk should listen in. When Ellis came on the line, Taylor's voice became oily with mock humility: "Yes, sir, Lieutenant Ellis, sir. How may I be of service to the lieutenant this morning, sir?"

  "I'm in Philadelphia," Ellis said.

  "Good for you, sir!" Taylor said. "I'm sure the colonel will be thrilled to hear that, sir! How nice of you to call and tell us, sir!"

  "You better ask the colonel if he'll talk to me," Ellis said.

  "Oh, I'm sure the colonel will be delighted to talk to you, Lieutenant, sir," Taylor said. "Just one moment, please, sir."

  He took the telephone from his ear with his right hand. covering the mouthpiece as he did so. He pushed the intercom switch with his left.

  I.

  "Colonel, Ellis is on the horn, collect. He sounds like a lost soul."

  "From Philadelphia?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Ellis," Colonel Paul T. Hanrahan demanded, falling easily into Taylor's game, "who told you you could go to Philadelphia?"

  There was no reply, and disappointing Sergeant Major Taylor, Colonel Hanrahan took pity on his young lieutenant. "It's okay, Ellis," Hanrahan said, changing his tone. "Colonel Felter called last night and explained the situation. Everything going all right so far?"

  "The navy's taken over," Ellis said. "They put him in a casket on the sub, and then they had a little ceremony when they took him off. His father and his sister were on the dock. That was a little rough. Anyway, they're going to bury him tomorrow. I'd really like to stick around for that, and the sister asked me if I could, but I don't have any
clothes or uniforms, and "

  "If someone Sergeant Major Taylor, for example were to go to your room in the BOQ, do you think he could find enough clothes for you to wear? Or is it the garbage dump rumor has it?"