Eagle Station Part 30

"Can all of the POWs leave with me?" That Connert is some ... oh my G.o.d, oh my G.o.d ... he's flashing code at me.

Flak felt as if an electric shock were surging through his body, and he suddenly got goose b.u.mps as thrill after thrill went up his spine. He had to restrain himself from shouting. He tried to collect his thoughts and listen carefully to the sniffles and coughs that Connert was wheezing into his tissue and handkerchief. He watched Connert's body motions as well as he could without attracting attention to what he was doing.

HI FLAC U OLD CELL RAT ... HOW THEY HANGING ... YOUR DOG QUEENIE.

MISSES U AND THE SKINS ARE DOING TERRIBLE THIS YEAR ... FLAC ...

FLAC ... U READ ...

Flak suddenly lowered his head, as he knew his face was lighting up, and tears of joy sprang to his eyes. He didn't want Thach to catch on. Oh dear G.o.d. Right infront of these commie b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. He's real, he's from home, he knows about Queenie and the Skins.

Every combat aircrewman had to write out for the Intelligence people an authentication file with a few easily remembered facts known only to them. These could then be used to authenticate the crewman to determine if he had been compromised in a rescue situation. They would usually list a favorite car or dog or sports team. I've got to keep this conversation going-I've got to stall. Can this guy Connert read my flash?

He raised his head and started to talk.

"Go home, you say-yes, well, let's talk about that." As Flak spoke he nervously started to rub his face and ma.s.sage his fingers.

YES YES YES I READ, he flashed.

Shawn shot a triumphant smile at Thach. "What we can do," he said to Flak, "is walk out of here anytime we want."

"You mean I can get up and go out the door with you whenever we want to go out the door?"

"Yes, yes, that's exactly what I mean."

"Right out that door over there?" DO YOU READ ME, he flashed.

"Yes, yes. That very door."

"Well, do I get any clothes to wear? I can't very well go out like this, can I?"

"Yes, G.o.dd.a.m.nit, you'll get clothes." This guy is so thick, Shawn said to himself.

"Well, what kind of clothes?" DO YOU READ ME.

"Clothes clothes. How the f.u.c.k would I know?" Shawn turned to Thach.

"For G.o.d's sake, you got clothes, don't you?"

"Yes, I have clothes for Algernon Apple when he is ready to go." Thach beamed as much as a man who never smiles can beam, and said, "I will have the press conference for him now."

"Good, good," Shawn said and fluffed out his hair with his fingers and wished he'd thought to bring a pocket mirror. You never know when someone will take a picture.

"You will prepare to read this statement," Thach said as he handed a piece of paper to Flak and walked to the open door.

Flak took the paper and read the words to himself.

"I Algernon Apple of the United States Air Force confess to indiscriminately bombing the peaceful peasants and children of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam. I am very sorry for my crimes and I repent my awful crimes. I ask for my release under the humane and lenient policy of Ho Chi Minh."

Three heavyset Caucasian men came in the room at Thach's bidding. Two carried still cameras and tape recorders, the third held an electric newsreel camera plugged into a battery pack on his belt. They set up their gear and Flak heard the camera whir and the shutters click as the men warmed up their equipment.

I READ YOU, Connert flashed.

STALL. WHEN THEY ROLL FILM U TRY FLASH CODE ON FILM ... NAME N TORTURE.

... WE TRY GET FILM FOR OUR USE ...

Flak didn't know why Connert wanted him to do it, but he flashed AA APPLE and the words TORTURED TO BE HERE over and over as he stalled the proceedings with inane talk.

"You sure you got enough light in here? Maybe I should stand over by the window? You want me to stand by the window? Where you guys from, anyway? You speak English?

Hi, what's your name?" Flak wondered what the h.e.l.l he meant by "for our own use" as he babbled on and on.

SORRY YUR ESCAPE WENT SOUR, Connert flashed.

THEY BEAT THE s.h.i.t OUT OF ME ... CILLED FREDERIC I THINC, Flak answered as the cameras clicked and whiffed, totally oblivious to the coded conversation taking place. A C replaced a K in the code matrix.

Shawn Bannister looked at Flak in amazement and decided he needed to get in the footage too. After all, this was just a ploy to get some good voter-grabbing material, he told himself.

But what is with this Apple idiot? First he wouldn't talk at all, now he won't shut up.

HOW YUR PHYSICAL CONDITION, Connert asked.

THEY GAVE ME SUNDAY SPECIAL ... d.a.m.n NEAR DIED ... THEN PUT GIRL TO.

GET ME GO HOME OR AT LEAST GO FRONT OF CAMERA BY TWO NOV TO DENOUNCE.

WAR...

Shawn stepped over and grabbed Flak's hand and shook it.

"On behalf of the United States of America," he said, "I am very proud to congratulate you on your momentous decision to return home to help win the war."

THEY TELL U WHAT SO IMPORT BOUT TWO NOV ...

NO ... WHO THE L R U ANYHOW ... HOW U NO HOW TO FLASH ...

Flak deftly pulled from Shawn's hand and mumbled something Thach couldn't hear.

"I'm A BLUE MAILMAN ... Connert flashed.

Flak was so excited he had to work hard not to leap about the room in spasms of joy. All his pains and aches disappeared under the rush of adrenaline from contact with a real live American military man. After one of his survival schools had been completed, Flak had stayed on for a special course taught to air-crew who were going into combat where the danger of being shot down was high. The men had been taught they might receive clandestine communications from select persons who would identify themselves as mailmen. As an extra identifier, a color code was added to denote the mailman's service: blue for Air Force, green for Army, gold for the Navy, and red for the Marines. Civilian mailmen were white. Flak was taught that mailmen were strictly communicators, but package carriers were guides and rescuers who were trained to get a prisoner out under the worst possible conditions.

U GOT A CALLSIGN...

DANCER ...

U GOT ANY MAIL...

MUCH ...

"Excuse me, what did you say?" Shawn asked Flak.

"Eat s.h.i.t, hippie p.r.i.c.k," Flak mumbled under his breath.

WHO FOR ...

EVERYBODY BUT MOST IMPORTANT FOR SROS ...

SROs were the senior ranking officers in each of the compounds. They had the duty and responsibility to take command the best way they could.

If they were slammed into solitary which they often were-the next man would step up to take his place in the clandestine POW command network.

"I am not a hippie. We need to discuss what you must do," Shawn said to Flak.

When Flak continued fidgeting but did not answer, Thach spoke up from behind the photographers. "Perhaps Algernon Apple's nurse can help to sit down and relax." He thrust Co Dust forward. She took Flak by the hand and led him back to his chair.

SHE TRIES HELP ME, Flak flashed. I WANT ESCAPE ... CAN U HELP ...

NO ... U CANT ESCAPE... NOT NOW ... U MUST DELIVER MY MESSAGES...

WHAT SHOULD I DO RIGHT NOW ...

STALL ... I GOT MESSAGES TO Pa.s.s ...

Flak took the paper with his prepared speech and spent long moments smoothing it out. He found his motions a fine way to flash to Connert.

"Unh, this is what you want me to read?" he said to Thach.

Embarra.s.sed, Thach said, "Of course, they are your words."

Flak continued to smooth the paper.

R ... GO AHEAD WITH MSGS ... he flashed. R was POW shorthand for Roger, meaning yes or go ahead.

NO ESCAPE ATTEMPTS WITHOUT PERMISSION FROM SRO R ...

DESIRED BUT NOT MANDATORY THAT NO ESCAPES ATTEMPTED WITHOUT OUTSIDE HELP.

... SRO TO USE THIS AS DECISION FACTOR.

ONE SONIC BOOM WHEN NO STRIKE ON MEANS RESCUE ATTEMPT WITHIN WEEC AT.

CAMP THAT GETS THREE BURNER BANGS DURING NEXT STRIKE.

R ... Flak was so thrilled over the news he almost dropped the paper.

To his knowledge there had been no outside communication ever before on the subject of a rescue attempt. His fingers trembled on the paper so much that Thach glared at him.

"Okay," Flak said when he settled himself down. "Here's what I have to say."

EVERYONE ON FLOOR WHEN RESCUE IN EFFECT ... NO MOVE TIL HEAR AMERICAN.

VOICE...

GIVE FOLLOWING TO MORALE OFFICER... EVERY MAN PROMOTED HIS DUE DATE ...

WHAT ABOUT LEAVES N Pa.s.sES...

HA HA ... U GOT ALL THIS ...

YEAH BUT GOT TO TALC NOW... Flak pretended to read from the paper. "I am United States Air Force Major Algernon A. Apple and I want to tell you-"

DON'T PO 'EM. ... U R ONLY CONTACT ... U GOT TO DELIVER THE MAIL ...

" . . . and I want to tell you ... to tell you that we receive food here and... and we receive CAREFUL...

" . . . and we receive, unh, food and goodies and, unh, Ho Chi Minh is the leader here."

One of the photographers said something in a language that Flak did not understand, and all three men laughed.

"Well," Shawn said, "is that all you have to say? What are your views on the war, Algernon?"

MY views on the war, you hippie p.r.i.c.k, are that we should shoot you, nuke Hanoi, and make a parking lot out of Moscow.

And n.o.body calls me Algernon and gets away with it.

CAREFUL ... U R ONLY GUY TO DELIVER MAIL ...

"It is a long and dangerous war and I hope it will be over soon and I am sorry so many people have died. I really am sorry." Flak almost bit his tongue off.

"Do you have a message for the American people?" Shawn asked.

You bet I do. Tell them to get off their dead a.s.s and invade this place. "I think the American people should take the appropriate action to end this dreadful conflict."

"What exactly do you mean by 'appropriate action,' Algernon?"

Nukes, invasion, the usual, you p.r.i.c.k. "Prayer. Yes, prayer.

The American people should go to church and pray for peace."

Connert made some frantic flashs. HEY I NEED MORE ...

STALL ... I GOT QUESTIONS FOR YOU ...

Thach rose and stood in front of Flak. "seat is enough," he said with barely concealed rage. The interview had not gone the way his superiors had told him it must go, and he was angry and worried about his future.

He needed a favorable event by tomorrow, the second of November. He nodded to Co Dust and told her in Vietnamese to take Flak to his room.