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Retreat, Hell! Part 51

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Pickering moved his head and saw a full lieutenant standing beside the chief.

"You all right, sir?" the lieutenant asked.

"I'm fine," Pick said.

The chief and the lieutenant hauled him to his feet and gently led him through a port into the Mansfield Mansfield's superstructure.

Pick felt the Mansfield Mansfield lean as she turned away from the lean as she turned away from the Badoeng Strait. Badoeng Strait.



[FOUR].

USAF AIRFIELD K-16 SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA 1750 16 OCTOBER 1950.

Major William R. Dunston, TC, USA, was waiting in the pa.s.senger section of base operations at K-16 when the 1500 courier flight from Haneda arrived.

He saluted somewhat sloppily when Pickering walked into the building, trailed by Banning and Hart.

Pickering restrained a smile when he saw that Dunston, who was not what could be described as a fine figure of a man, and additionally was wearing mussed, somewhat soiled fatigues and could have used a haircut, had failed the First Impressions Test of Colonel Edward J. Banning, USMC.

"Bill, this is Colonel Ed Banning," Pickering said.

"Welcome to the Land of the Morning Calm," Dunston said. "Your reputation precedes you."

"Does it really?" Banning said a little stiffly.

Pickering thought: What's ruffling Banning's feathers? Dunston's appearance? Or that he hasn't used the word "sir"? What's ruffling Banning's feathers? Dunston's appearance? Or that he hasn't used the word "sir"?

"Yeah," Dunston continued, "when the Killer heard you were coming, he told me all about you."

Pickering saw that Hart was also amused by the exchange.

"Where is Major McCoy?" Pickering asked.

"I don't really know," Dunston said. "When I got the heads-up from Keller, I got on the horn to Socho-Ri, and Zimmerman said they got the three clicks a little after three this morning."

" 'The three clicks'?" Banning asked.

"Meaning they got ash.o.r.e okay. . . . Should we be talking about this in here?"

"Good point. Let's go outside," Pickering said.

Dunston led them to the end of a line of parked vehicles.

"What the h.e.l.l is this thing?" Pickering asked.

"This is the Killer's Russian jeep," Dunston said. "He took it away from an NK colonel. He had it over in Socho-Ri, but when he sent Jennings here, he sent the Russian Rolls with him and said to keep it here."

"Is that what you call it, the Russian Rolls?" Pickering asked, chuckling.

"Who's Jennings?" Banning asked. It was almost an interruption.

"Tech Sergeant," Dunston said. "He and Zimmerman and the Killer were in the Marine Raiders. Good man. He's been with us since Pusan."

"You know McCoy hates to be called Killer, don't you, Major?" Banning asked.

"Yeah, well, I guess I'm one of the privileged few who can," Dunston said. "We're pretty close, Colonel."

Pickering saw that Banning found that hard to accept.

Dunston got behind the wheel, and Pickering got in beside him.

"n.o.body can hear us here," Pickering said when Banning and Hart had climbed over the back into the rear seat. "What about McCoy? Where is he?"

"Well, they-the Killer and two of my Koreans-went ash.o.r.e a few miles north of Chongjin," Dunston said. "The Wind of Good Fortune Wind of Good Fortune got the three clicks a little after three this morning." got the three clicks a little after three this morning."

"Your Koreans?" Banning asked. Koreans?" Banning asked.

"The Wind of Good Fortune Wind of Good Fortune is the flags.h.i.+p of our fleet, Colonel," George Hart offered quickly. "It's a diesel-powered junk." is the flags.h.i.+p of our fleet, Colonel," George Hart offered quickly. "It's a diesel-powered junk."

He did that, Pickering thought, Pickering thought, because he sensed that Dunston has had enough of Banning's att.i.tude and was about to snap back at Banning. What the h.e.l.l is wrong with Ed Banning? because he sensed that Dunston has had enough of Banning's att.i.tude and was about to snap back at Banning. What the h.e.l.l is wrong with Ed Banning?

Banning's glance at Hart did not suggest anything close to grat.i.tude.

"My Koreans, Colonel," Dunston said coldly, "are what few agents I have left of the agents I had before the war. McCoy's Koreans are the ones he's borrowed from Colonel Pak at I ROK Corps. We tell them apart that way." Koreans, Colonel," Dunston said coldly, "are what few agents I have left of the agents I had before the war. McCoy's Koreans are the ones he's borrowed from Colonel Pak at I ROK Corps. We tell them apart that way."

"Three clicks?" Pickering asked, more to forestall another question from Banning than for information. He had made a guess-as it turned out, the right one-about what three clicks meant.

"You push the mike b.u.t.ton three times, General, but don't say anything," Dunston said. "It means you're safely ash.o.r.e."

"Ash.o.r.e a few miles north of where?" Banning asked.

"Chongjin," Dunston said. "It's a town-"

"On the Sea of j.a.pan, about sixty miles from the Chinese and Russian borders," Banning said impatiently. "I know where it is. What's he doing there?"

"Vandenburg got him some radios from the Army Security Agency," Dunston said. "He's going to listen to what he calls low-level Russian radio traffic."

"I was under the impression the ASA was responsible for intercepting enemy communications," Banning said.

"That's their job," Dunston agreed a little sarcastically.

"Then what-"

Pickering, who was sitting sidewards on the front seat of the vehicle, dropped his hand to Banning's knee and silenced him.

Pickering thought: I don't know what's wrong with Banning-maybe fatigue from the long flight; or maybe he doesn't think Dunston is showing him the proper respect- but he's acting like an inspector general, and Dunston doesn't like it. I don't want-can't have-the two of them sc.r.a.pping. I don't know what's wrong with Banning-maybe fatigue from the long flight; or maybe he doesn't think Dunston is showing him the proper respect- but he's acting like an inspector general, and Dunston doesn't like it. I don't want-can't have-the two of them sc.r.a.pping.

Dunston started the engine and backed out of the parking slot.

[FIVE].

THE HOUSE SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA 1910 16 OCTOBER 1950.

Major General Ralph Howe, NGUS, Lieutenant Colonel D. J. Vandenburg, USA, Master Sergeant Charley Rogers, NGUS, Technical Sergeant J. M. Jennings, USMC, and an Army captain wearing a fur-collared aviator's jacket were sitting at the dining room table when Pickering, Banning, Hart, and Dunston walked in.

Everyone but Howe made some movement to stand. Pickering signaled for them to stay where they were.

"I will claim the privilege of rank, Flem," Howe said, "and be the first to tell you how delighted I am your son's safe."

"Thank you," Pickering said.

"I suppose I'd better do the introductions," Howe said. "General, this is Colonel D. J. Vandenburg . . ."

Pickering offered him his hand.

"How are you, Colonel?"

"Sir, we're all happy Major Pickering is back with us."

"Thank you," Pickering said.

". . . and this is Captain Lew Miller," Howe went on, "who flies the Beaver."

"I've heard about the Beaver," Pickering said, smiling at Vandenburg. "How are you, Captain?"

"How do you do, sir?" Miller said.

"And J. M. Jennings," Howe said, "who has the dubious distinction of having been a Marine Raider with McCoy and Zimmerman."

" 'Dubious distinction'?" Jennings said, and then: "How do you do, sir?"

"The phrase, General Howe," Pickering said, "is great distinction. great distinction."

"Thank you, sir," Jennings said.

"I'm sorry, Sergeant," Pickering said, "that you've had to be alone with all these dogfaces, but that's changed. Ed Banning and I have landed, and the situation is well in hand."

"Oh, G.o.d!" Howe said, shaking his head. He put out his hand to Banning. "I've heard a lot about you, Colonel, all good. And this is Charley Rogers, who the jarheads around here refer to-behind our backs, of course-as the 'Retread Doggie General's Retread Dog Robber.' "

"How do you do, General?" Banning said to Howe, and shook his hand. He shook Rogers's hand but said nothing to him.

Howe said, "I don't know if Marines drink champagne-for that matter, if they even know what it is-but when Bill Dunston heard about your son and you coming, he put a couple of bottles in the refrigerator in case a celebration was in order, and I suggest one is."

"My G.o.d!" Pickering said. "A house like this, with champagne in a refrigerator, in what my favorite journalist refers to as 'the battered capital of this war-torn nation'? Pay attention, Ed, these doggies really know how to live. See if you can find out how they do it!"

There was laughter from everyone but Banning, who came up with a somewhat restrained smile.

Dunston went through the door to the kitchen, and a moment later Lai-Min, the housekeeper, came through it carrying a tray with two bottles of champagne in coolers and champagne gla.s.ses on it. She set it on the table, went back into the kitchen, and came back with another tray. This one held hors d'oeuvres.

"I will be d.a.m.ned!" Pickering said.

"More than likely," Howe said, mock serious.

Dunston came back into the room, and he and Hart opened the champagne and poured.

Howe raised his gla.s.s. "Major Malcolm S. Pickering," he toasted. "Who has proved he's as good a Marine as his father, and probably a lot smarter."

Pickering took a swallow and then raised his gla.s.s again.

"How about to Major Ken McCoy and whoever was with him when he found Pick?" he said.

"Well, I'll drink to the Killer anytime," Howe said. "But that's not exactly what happened, Flem."

"Excuse me?"

Howe gestured to Jennings, whose face showed he would much rather not have to tell the story.

"Sir, what happened was that we were coming back to Socho-Ri in a Big Black Bird after having picked up a recon patrol-"

"You're talking about a helicopter?" Banning interrupted.

"Yes, sir," Jennings said. "And we heard somebody- 'Road Service'-calling for any U.S. aircraft-"

"Road Service?" Banning parroted. Pickering looked at him sharply.

"Yes, sir," Jennings went on. "We found out later it was an Army convoy, a couple of tanks and some heavy vehicles, trying to find a land route to Wonsan. We even knew them. Anyway, we didn't reply, of course-"

"Why not?" Banning interrupted.

"Ed, for Christ's sake, let Sergeant Jennings finish," Pickering snapped, and immediately regretted it.

The remark earned him a look of grat.i.tude from Jennings and a look of astonishment, even hurt, from Banning.

"But an Air Force F-51 did," Jennings went on. "And Road Service told him they'd just picked up a shot-down pilot and needed to get him to a hospital. The Air Force guy asked for a location, and it was about five miles from where we were, so the Kil . . . Major McCoy told Major Donald to go there, and see if we could land, and so we did. What we found was that the Army was lost, and Major Pickering had seen them and come out from where he was hiding."

Pickering saw Jennings smile.

"What's funny, Sergeant?" he asked.

"Well, sir, what Major Pickering did was come down the road to the doggie convoy with his hands over his head, singing 'The Marines' Hymn' as loud as he could and shouting 'Don't shoot' between lines."

"Jesus Christ!" Pickering said, smiling at the image.

"Anyway, sir, we could get in where they were, so we loaded Major Pickering on the Big Black Bird-they left me behind to show the Army the road to Wonsan-and flew on to Socho-Ri, took on fuel, and then flew him out to the aircraft carrier. But we didn't find him, sir, although G.o.d knows we sure looked hard for him-the major found the Army."

Pickering smiled and shook his head.

"What difference does it make, Flem?" Howe asked. "He's back. That's all that counts."

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