"Excuse me," Duong said. "TARPS?"
"Stands for Tactical Aerial Reconnaissance Pod System," Marusko explained. "It's a strap-on pod carrying special cameras and infrared imaging scanners. We sling it from the belly of a Tomcat, and it gets us close-up pictures… better and faster than we can usually manage from a satellite."
"We thought that might be useful for locating guerrilla trails and camps," Magruder added.
Duong examined the written proposal for a series of TARPS flights over northern Thailand, then passed it over to Kriangsak. "That could be of enormous benefit," he said. "Your orders, however, are to avoid combat. If those MiGs reappear…"
Magruder grinned. "If that happens, General, maybe you'll have your confirmation of Burmese involvement."
"That might not be wise, General," Kriangsak said softly. "With all due respect to our American friends, the risk of an incident involving them is great. Next time the Burmese intruders could well try to down an American plane instead of one of ours. That could precipitate an unfortunate incident."
Duong's pudgy fingers drummed on the tabletop for a moment. "Point taken, Colonel."
"There is a further difficulty," Kriangsak continued. "So far as the dissident officers are concerned, too much reliance on American help might be as bad as inaction against the communists. We must be seen to be handling this ourselves, without farang involvement."
Magruder smiled. "I think we can manage to stay inconspicuous, Colonel.
Here's what we can do…"
They continued to work out the details of the joint That-American operation.
Thailand had been winning her long fight against Communism, but for many years Bangkok had been losing another war, the war against the drug lords of the Golden Triangle in the northern part of the country, and now the drug war was high on the agenda of the White House. Washington was concerned that the resurgence of guerrilla activity in northern Thailand might somehow be connected with the Golden Triangle's deadly trade, in the same way that Marxist rebels in South and Central America funded their operations with cocaine. For years, heroin traffic in the region had been controlled by various warlords in the area who, in turn, answered to a cartel ― mostly Chinese ― based in Hong Kong.
With the U.S. Navy helping the That army in its operations against guerrillas, the CIA, the DEA, and other organizations with an interest in the region could get a good look at the area's drug trade as well. Guerrillas and drug smugglers would be using the same trails, even the same camps. The fact that communist insurgents were operating within the Golden Triangle at all meant that they were somehow linked with the local drug lords. No one, including the That army, moved through some parts of Thailand's north hill country without their approval.
None of this was discussed openly with Duong, of course. TARPS reconnaissance of the border region would assist the That army in putting down the insurrection; whether or not the U.S. Navy pulled copies of the data for other purposes was, of course, up to them.
After almost an hour of discussion, Duong leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "I am inclined to accept your offer, Admiral," he said at last.
"Particularly if the RTAF has the primary responsibility for protecting your people. Your… your TARPS aircraft could be based at an airfield in the area where we could provide ground security as well."
"That would be satisfactory," Magruder said. "I would suggest that we provide you with two aircraft, though, one to carry the TARPS, one as wingman." Flying wingman formations was basic to U.S. air tactics, and Magruder didn't want the entire responsibility for protecting the TARPS plane to rest with their That hosts.
Duong nodded. "Two aircraft could hardly be interpreted as major American assistance," he said. "And the air base I have in mind is somewhat remote."
"Where is it?"
"North of Chiang Mai. It's a small military base called U Feng, about twenty kilometers from the border." He turned to face his aide. "Colonel, you were just stationed there, were you not?"
Kriangsak nodded. "Yes, sir. Headquarters staff for almost two years."
"Then you will have all the information these gentlemen need. I'll leave that to YOU."
Whom to send? Magruder wondered. Properly, this should have been a volunteers-only mission, since whoever went would be missing out on liberty in Bangkok. That alone could qualify U Feng as hardship duty.
For a recon flight like this, though, he wanted someone with plenty of experience flying the electronics-laden pod. Most Tomcat drivers were familiar with TARPS, but some had more experience than others. The name of Lieutenant Commander Matthew Magruder came to mind.
Magruder smiled. Simply ordering his nephew to take the U Feng mission might solve several problems at once. He'd heard the rumors and jokes about VF-95's skipper, winner of the Navy Cross, the fair-haired admiral's nephew.
It was impossible to avoid the ugly specter of favoritism in a situation like this, and ever since Wonsan, Magruder had been wondering if it wouldn't be a good idea to have Tombstone transferred to another command. Maybe the rumors could be scotched if it was Tombstone who was ordered to fly up to U Feng for fun and games in the jungles of the Golden Triangle.
So, Tombstone and his RIO, plus one other Tomcat and crew. A week at U Feng should be sufficient to map most of the threatened border area.
He hoped Tombstone would understand. A week at U Feng wouldn't exactly be a pleasant break from shipboard routine.
Tombstone, Batman, Nightmare Marinaro and Price Taggart all sat in the synthetic leather chairs of the Ready Room, sipping Cokes and swapping stories. They were on Alert 15, but it had been a quiet night so far and only twenty minutes remained in the watch. The atmosphere was relaxed, full of joking and good-natured banter.
They laughed as Tombstone wrinkled his nose. "Come off it, Batman, you don't know what the hell you're talking about! You've never even been there!"
"Hey! Trust me, man! Trust me! I used to go out with this blonde back Stateside, y'know? An airline stewardess for TWA! Tits like you would not believe! And she told me that the Airport Hotel was where the stews hang out whenever they're in town."
"Bull!" Nightmare said, grinning. "You're saying your girlfriend told you where to pick up Western girls when you were here?"
"Hey, she didn't know I was going to be in Bangkok when she told me! We were in bed at the time, as I recall… and she was kind of under my spell, know what I mean?"
Tombstone shook his head. "Maybe you'll run into her when you're there."
"Not likely. She quit and married a lawyer from Duluth. Great tits, though. The Batman flies first class, all the way!"
"Delirious again, poor boy," Price said sadly. He picked up an empty soft drink can by Batman's elbow and shook it lightly. "Too much sugar.
Makes 'em hallucinate."
"Must be," Tombstone agreed.
"Shit," Batman said agreeably. "You two clods are just jealous! There you'll be, off on the frontier with gomers and alligators for playmates…"
"Right on," Nightmare said. "Ol' Batman and me are gonna be making the rounds in Patpong while you two are slapping mosquitos out in the jungle!
Don't worry, though. We'll remember you to the girls…"
"You want to kill them or shall I?" Price asked Tombstone.
"Aw, let them live. They both had deprived childhoods."
"Deprived of nookie," Batman agreed. "We're making up for lost time."
Tombstone snorted. "Perhaps I should remind you that you guys are still going to be working. That's Working…" He dragged the word out cruelly.