Trace turned the page to a slightly yellowed document.
RISON: Good afternoon, Bill. What can I do for you today?
BRODERINE: Afternoon, Bob. Glad you could make time to see me.
RISON: You said something last time about my camps in your division’s area of operations. Is there-
BRODERINE: Oh, everything’s fine. Just fine. Actually, I was talking with the general in Saigon the other day and we were discussing you.
RISON: Discussing me?
BRODERINE: Actually, we were discussing the Montagnard issue.
RISON: What issue?
BRODERINE: Oh, come on now, Bob. Don’t play cute with me. We both know the ARVN would just as soon go into the hills and kill Montagnards as they would NVA. In fact they’d probably prefer killing your-what do you call them? “Little people”? We also have information that the Montagnards are stockpiling weapons and ammunition for what they think is the war after the war — their war for independence after the threat from the north is defeated. Some of the people in Saigon are very nervous about that and they’ve expressed their concern to the general.
RISON: And you’re expressing it to me.
BRODERINE: The general did want me to feel you out on it.
RISON: On what exactly?
BRODERINE: He wants to know if you think there’s a chance of the Montagnards going their own way.
RISON: They’re fighting under the South Vietnamese flag.
BRODERINE: There’s no need to get defensive, Bob. It’s just that some people think you’ve got a wild card here, and we want to make sure we know how it’s going to play.
RISON: This isn’t a game we’re involved in here. It’s war. For now the Montagnards and the South Vietnamese have the same enemy. I think that’s good enough. The “Yards” can outfight any ARVN outfit any day of the week, and those people in Saigon need to remember that. They also need to remember that if the Montagnards stop fighting, the VC will have control of the highlands in less than a month and this country will be history.
BRODERINE: We’re aware of the strategic scenario. But there are larger issues involved here. Issues that are not of concern to either the government in Saigon or the Montagnards.
RISON: What issues?
BRODERINE: This war — don’t you see what it is? We kicked their ass in Tet. They shot their wad. Hell, it’s going to take those sons of bitches two or three years to get back up to strength in the north. They tipped their hand too soon and we handed them their ass in a sling.
RISON: I agree. If Washington would let us go, we could make a clean sweep of it.
BRODERINE: Washington! Hell, those pansy asses in D.C. couldn’t fight their way out of a paper sack. And this is just the sideshow any way. The real war is over in Europe.
RISON: We’re not at war in Europe.
BRODERINE: We’ve been at war for twenty-four years over there.
RISON: What are you talking about?
BRODERINE: That’s not important right now. What is important is that the general wants to know what his options are. He thinks we can downgrade our U.S. strength here and maintain the status quo. He wants to know if he can count on the Montagnards to remain a stable force.
RISON: Downgrade? We need to finish this thing. If we put every swinging dick we have in-country into the bush, we could have this thing done with by the end of the year. You yourself just said we’ve hurt them bad. We need to finish them while they’re down.
BRODERINE: That’s not the plan. Can the general count on your people?
RISON: Whose plan are we talking about? Since when does the general make foreign policy? He’s not the National Command Authority.
BRODERINE: Listen, Bob, wake up. We’ve got two or three years of breathing space now. We can keep rotating people in and give them combat experience. Keep things going on the procurement side. After that, who knows? We can always keep the North under our thumb with the bombing. But the general feels it is essential that we maintain things as is. Those are his instructions.
RISON: From who? That isn’t what Washington is putting out.
BRODERINE: Damn it, Bob. Forget Washington. They’re out of the loop on this. This is us. You’re one of us. You understand.
RISON: Don’t wave that fucking ring in my face, Bill. That ring says we serve and follow orders. We don’t dictate policy.
BRODERINE: We do when there’s shooting involved. And we do when it involves being ready to defend our country. We can’t allow that to remain in the hands of the civilians. They’ve screwed it up repeatedly and it’s our blood that is spilled every time. This is the first war we’ve gotten into in this century where we’ve had the time to prepare. And the bigger war is just waiting over there in Europe and we need this one to remain prepared for it.
RISON: Who the hell is this “we” you’re talking about?
BRODERINE: The Long Gray Line, Bob. It’s been around a hell of a lot longer than you have and it will be here long after you’re gone.
RISON: Is that a threat?
BRODERINE: Take it any way you want, colonel. The bottom line is, your people do what we tell you to do, or we’ll gut you and your organization.
RISON: Are you done, general?
BRODERINE: I’m done.
END OF TRANSCRIPT
Trace rubbed her forehead. She turned the page and Rison’s writing continued.
They didn’t fool around. They did gut me and my organization, but all that’s history and you can find that story elsewhere. If you’re reading this, I’m most likely dead and you are Just finding out about the existence of The Line. And the thing you need is proof. I don’t have the tapes of that conversation, and even if I did, it would be claimed a forgery. But I do have proof. To find it, you’re going to have to go to West Point. Go to Custer’s grave. Exactly one foot to the left on line with the front edge of the base of his gravestone — between his and his wife’s grave — and one foot down, you’ll find proof. Godspeed.
Trace folded the pages and slid them back in the envelope.
At least she knew where she needed to go next. She picked the phone up and dialed Maggie’s number again.
CHAPTER 16
Boomer and Skibicki trooped into Maggie’s house covered in mud. They’d spent the last several hours scouring the north coast, searching vainly for. any sign of where the previous night’s jumpers might have gone to earth. They’d finally called it quits after getting Skibicki’s jeep stuck on one of the countless back trails. They were both exhausted.
Maggie met them with a laundry bag to take their dirty clothes.
“Your friend Trace called an hour ago,” she informed them.
“Is she all right?” Boomer asked, pausing in the middle of unlacing his boots.
“She says she’s fine, but she thinks Colonel Rison is dead.”
“Dead?” Skibicki repeated, focusing all his attention on Maggie.
Maggie gestured for them to forget about the mud and follow her into the kitchen.
“She didn’t talk to me long.
She said that she talked to Rison at the game and he was shot while they were talking. She escaped. Before he got shot, Rison gave her an envelope with some information in it that says the Line exists. She’s on her way to West Point to get Rison’s proof.”
“West Point?” Boomer said.
“That’s going into the lion’s den. What kind of proof is she going for?”
“She didn’t say,” Maggie replied.
“Did she leave a number where I could call her?” Boomer asked.