The Chameleon Soldier: NOW AS AN ALIEN BLUE HE CANNOT DIE. (28 page)

Killian nodded in agreement. “Yes. It was all CIA in Vietnam until the regular U.S. military decided the Special Forces and the Civilian Irregular Defense Group were not being employed properly. They ordered Operation Switchback, which transferred control of the CIDG program from the CIA to the Military Assistance Command Vietnam, referred to as the MACV. By then the U.S. Special Forces had trained 11,000 Montagnards Strike Force and 40,000 hamlet militia from over eight hundred villages.”

“Do you feel the MACV was a good move?” asked Whelan.

“I don’t think anything done over there is good,” Killian replied. “The MACV is there to support the Army of the Republic of Vietnam in defending the country. The ARVN is under the control of President Ngo Dinh Diem, who the CIA put in power. The MACV includes the Army of Special Forces instructors, the Green Berets and CIA personnel organizing the Montagnards in the mountains of the Central Highlands, where I spent most of my time.”

“So even with Operation Switchback, the CIA is still strongly involved,” Whelan mused.

“Absolutely, their stamp is all over Vietnam.”

“Things aren’t going all that well for Ngo Dinh Diem,” Kip put in. “Now the Buddhist priests are fasting and staging peaceful demonstrations against him.”

“Yes, we read the ARVN troops fired on them last May,” said Maggie.

“And in Saigon last June, in protest, one of them set himself on fire,” added Zack.

“Then, more recently, violence escalated when the forces of Ngo Dinh Diem raided pagodas, killing Buddhist priests and arresting thousands of others.”

“That’s true, Kip. I’ve heard rumors among the troops in Vietnam the CIA’s encouraging a coup against Ngo Dinh Diem, and the word is, our president isn’t opposed to it,” said Killian.

“That’s a pretty wild rumor,” Whelan responded.

“Jesus, that would really set things on fire over there,” said Kip.

“Yes, but there could be some truth to it,” Killian continued. “The talk is the CIA has talked to some generals in the ARVN about the removal of Ngo.”

No one said anything for a few seconds.

Kip set down his cup of coffee. “Our president had an interview with Walter Cronkite in September. He emphasized the Vietnamese government’s failings and placed the final responsibility for the success of the war on the Vietnamese. Recently, we in congress have learned that by the end of the year the president wants to start withdrawing military personnel from Vietnam. We believe he wants all CIA officers and agents out as well.”

“The CIA won’t stand for that,” injected Whelan. “The president will have great resistance from them.”

“But I’ll bet he pushes for it,” said Maggie. “The president isn’t happy with the way things are going in Vietnam. He’s incensed with the methods the CIA are using, and for their getting us into this mess.”

Again no one said anything for a few moments as they continued eating.

“Killian, please tell us about your time over there,” said Whelan. “Kip mentioned you’d found a few of those Blue Warriors, and tragically lost a good friend.”

Killian spent the next twenty minutes giving them the short version, about the Blue Warriors he had encountered, and about the loss of his friend, Connor Boyle.

After Killian had finished Zack stood up. “Well, I suppose Killian has had all this war talk up to his ass. How about we have a drink, and talk about more enjoyable things.”

As Zack headed into the large living room everyone laughed, got up from the table, and followed the wiry old man, who was already at the bar.

Days later, Killian
took a plane to Boston, to attend his friend Connor’s funeral. When he returned to Washington, D.C. he went directly to Kip’s office.

“How’d it go?” asked Kip.

“The military puts on a nice funeral. However, it’s still sad to see heartbroken family members mourning their loved ones.”

“Yes, and to think funeral ceremonies are going on all over the country. Too many young men are being killed.”

“Kip, you men in congress have got to do something. It’s a powder keg over there, and things are going to get much worse.”

“Believe me, Killian, we discuss it every day, but the CIA and the president are pulling in different directions. The rest of us are caught in the middle.”

“Doesn’t seem like a good way to run the country.”

“No, it isn’t,” agreed the congressman.

They lapsed into a silence for a moment.

“What are you going to do now?” asked Kip.

“I’m not sure. I’d really like to go back to my ranch in El Paso.”

“You know that isn’t a good idea, Killian.”

“I know, and I won’t, but maybe someday I will.”

Kip nodded.

“We do have some unfinished business I’d like to clean up, Kip.”

He looked quizzically at Killian. “What business?”

“With the Mafia underboss Mario Marcinetti, I don’t like his getting away with the murder of General Dugan.”

“Killian, you should let it rest. I don’t think now’s a good time to get involved with the Mafia again.”

“Why not?”

“There’s too much going on right now with the Vietnam problem, and I don’t believe the team would like it.”

“I thought the team was inactive.”

“Well, we are and we aren’t.”

“What the heck does that mean, Kip?”

“We want to see what’s going to happen in Cuba and Vietnam. So, for the time being, we’ve decided to cool our heels.”

Killian shook his head, “I can tell you what’s going to happen. Castro’s going to tell the U.S. to go to hell, and all hell is going to break out in Vietnam.”

“I’m a bit more optimistic about those situations, Killian.”

“I’ve been involved with the people stirring those pots, Kip. You blend in the powder kegs of Castro, the Mafia, and Ngo Dinh Diem with his army, the North Vietnamese Army, and add the CIA, as the lighted fuse, and you’ve got the potential for an explosion which will rock the United States for years.”

Kip looked worried. “God, Killian, I hope you’re not right.”

“So do I, my friend, so do I.”

They sat in silence for a short time.

“What about Mario Marcinetti then?” Kip asked.

Killian thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess I’ll cool my heels for a while.”

In South Vietnam
the days of President Ngo Dinh Diem were numbered. The United States was outraged over the actions of his regime, as were the South Vietnamese leaders in the ARVN, who wanted him out of power.

At the same time, U.S. President John F. Kennedy was struggling with the growth of communism. In the short time he’d been in office, he had acquired a number of formidable enemies. Among them were the Cuban leader Fidel Castro, Nikita Khrushchev of Russia, the Deputy Director of the CIA and powerful Mafia bosses, who were talking of targeting the president and his brother, who was no friend of the crime organization.

On the second day of November, Ngo Dinh Diem, along with his brother, Ngo Dinh Nhu, was arrested by the Army of the Republic of Vietnam. While being transferred to the military headquarters at Tan Son Nhut Air Base they were executed in the back of an armored personnel carrier by two ARVN officers.

Three weeks later, the course of American history was altered when the president of the United States was killed. President John F. Kennedy, while riding in an open convertible on a Friday afternoon in Dallas, Texas, was shot in the head by Lee Harvey Oswald, who made the rifle shot from the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository. After the murder, there was speculation the death was a conspiracy involving the CIA, the Mafia, the sitting Vice-President Lyndon B. Johnson, and many others. It was rumored there were links between Oswald and the dark labyrinths of the CIA.

Soon after the death of the president, one by one, General Charles Mittlebonn, Admiral George Hildegard and Congressman Thomas Bernard showed up at Congressman Kipling Smith’s, Washington office. They concurred that, in their opinion, the chameleon team no longer existed. They felt it was much too dangerous to be at odds with the multifarious activities of the CIA, and did not wish to continue to investigate or confront the powerful association.

Over the past months, Killian had been enjoying his work at Zack’s ranch. They had trained and sold a few excellent racehorses. The old man had basically retired and turned the everyday operations of the ZS ranch over to Killian.

Zack and Killian had read about the execution of Ngo. They discussed what it meant to the United States and South Vietnam over a steak dinner and a couple of drinks. A few days later, as they sat in front of the television and saw President Kennedy shot and killed, they became angry and drunk.

Later that afternoon, when Kip and Maggie came to the ranch, they found the two men in the corral. They were sprawled on a pile of straw, passed out. Two pistols, over fifty brass shells, and two empty whisky bottles were lying by their sides. Nailed on the fence was a large cardboard sign with a rough drawing of a man and the bold printed words “Oswald” and “CIA”. The cardboard sign was riddled with bullet holes.

Three days later, they were among the thousands who lined Pennsylvania Avenue, and somberly watched the funeral parade for President John F. Kennedy. Tears came to their eyes as they saw the late president’s three-year-old son, John Jr. saluting as the horse-drawn caisson, with the catafalque bearing the flag-draped casket of his father, passed by.

The war in
Vietnam continued to go badly for the South Vietnamese. The advisers for the CIA in Vietnam informed the U.S. government that things were fragile. On their advice, the new American president began attacks against the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese Army, by the air and naval forces. However, the war raged on and the Viet Cong continued its attacks on the ARVN and U.S. forces. American casualties grew. The Saigon government was unstable, and the United States didn’t increase its military involvement. On Christmas Eve 1964, the Viet Cong blew up the Brink Hotel, killing two U.S. Army officers and wounding fifty more. In spite of this, the president decided not to take any retaliatory action.

Killian had been managing the ranch for over a year when he read about the bombing of the Brink Hotel. It bothered him, as he had known some of the officers who frequented the hotel. It also indicated to him the Viet Cong were getting bolder if they dared to attack an American installation, which was in the center of the heavily guarded capital of Saigon. Killian knew the Vietnamese people. He knew they’d take the bombing, by the Viet Cong, as a sign the Americans were now vulnerable and could not protect them. Killian wondered why the president didn’t send additional troops to Vietnam. It was obvious South Vietnam was in deep trouble.

Then, finally, at the beginning of 1965, President Lyndon Johnson made the decision to deploy major U.S. ground, air and naval forces to South Vietnam. This was the beginning of the full-scale war in Vietnam.

Killian thought about joining the troops heading for Vietnam, but felt he still had unfinished business, regarding the Mafia underboss Mario Marcinetti. It gnawed at him that Marcinetti had gotten away with having his men kill General Dugan. Killian knew the order was confirmed by the real Mafia Don, who was referred to simply as the Boss. However, he knew Marcinetti was directly involved in the hit, and he was Killian’s target.

Killian drove to the National Airport, and boarded a plane to the newly renamed John F. Kennedy Airport in New York City. There, he hired a cab to take him to Big Ted’s Saloon. Before he entered he once again transformed into the young Italian Phil Rizzo. Killian wanted to talk to his so-called buddy, Loudmouth Louie Bono, but when he entered he didn’t see Louie sitting at the bar. Joe the bartender told Killian that Louie now hung out at a high-end uptown bar frequented by Underboss Mario Marcinetti. It seemed that since Louie had informed Marcinetti about the FBI raids on the Union’s warehouses in Miami he was now in good stead with the underboss. Joe gave Killian the directions to the Club Car Lounge.

That evening, still in the guise of Phil Rizzo, Killian walked into the fancy bar, which was modeled after a railroad club car. All the wood was highly polished mahogany, while the drapes over the windows were red velvet. On the ten foot-high walls were large, colorful paintings of scenes of Italy, complete with scantily dressed, barefoot women in huge wooden tubs, crushing grapes. As Killian’s eyes adjusted to the overhead lights, he spotted the half-assed wise guy he was looking for. Louie was sitting at his usual station, the end seat, at the long wooden bar. Killian smiled as he walked toward the thin, homely man, who clearly pictured himself as somewhat of a Don Juan. Killian knew Louie always chose that particular bar stool so he could talk to the waitresses and look down the front of their low-cut dress tops, maybe occasionally cop a feel of their ass.

Killian stood behind Louie and tapped him on the shoulder. “Louie, I’ve been looking for you.”

Louie turned on his barstool. He grinned when he saw the man he knew as Phil. “Where the hell have you been? I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

“Traveling, I went across the big pond for a while.”

“What for?” asked Louie.

“I heard about some good deals being made regarding drugs.”

“Do any good, Phil?”

“Let’s say I’m pretty set for cash right now.”

“Good for you. Sit down and buy me a drink, my well-heeled friend,” said Louie, laughing loudly.

Louie called over the bartender and they ordered a drink. Killian laid a twenty on the bar.

As they talked, Killian looked around the long, wide saloon, hoping to see Mario Marcinetti, but the underboss wasn’t there.

“I like your new hang-out, Louie; it’s a big improvement over Big Ted’s.”

“Yeah, I don’t go to those sleaze-bag bars anymore. Life’s gotten a whole lot better lately.”

“I heard you’re now an amico with Underboss Marcinetti,” said Killian.

Louie picked up his fresh drink, “More than just a friend, Phil. I’m doing some interesting work for him.”

“Wow, how about that? I’d like to meet him some time. Do you think it’s possible?”