“Sir, with all that’s going on in Korea right now, General McLanahan and I feel our program might be the best option if China starts—”
“You obviously didn’t hear what I said, General Samson,” Hayes cut in angrily. “Cut the Air National Guard guys back to their unit and stand down, now, or drop your stars in the mailbox on your way out of town.”
As before, the only item on the news when the members of the 111th Bomb Squadron woke up the next morning was events in Korea. They hardly noticed what they had for breakfast or how long the coffee had been standing — every one of them was glued to the TV sets, which as in their own unit were tuned to CNN.
The news of the creation of the independent United Republic of Korea rippled around the world faster than a meteor, and as the sun rose on various parts of the globe, world leaders one by one endorsed and welcomed it. Even close North Korean allies, such as Russia, Iraq, Iran, and Libya, seemed to at least accede that the people might be better off. Revolutionary ideas, they said, might be better spread throughout a united, independent Korea rather than a divided peninsula with lots of foreign troops stationed on either side.
The People’s Republic of China was the one glaring holdout. The president of the former Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, Kim Jong-il, had set up a government-in-exile in Beijing, and Chinese President Jiang Zemin had warmly welcomed him. China had not committed any troops when South Korean planes started flying over North Korea — in fact, China had not even mobilized troops. But despite the televised appearance of a Chinese government functionary at the announcement, no one believed China would support a united, independent Korea that was not Communist, and they did not.
The world was holding its breath, afraid to move too fast or even blink for fear of touching off a global thermonuclear exchange. But it really did appear as if this was going to work: a Korea that was one nation again for the first time in nearly fifty years, and free from foreign troops on its soil for the first time in almost one hundred years.
Breakfast was served in the bottom-floor dayroom of the dormitory in which the 111th Aces High men and women were billeted. It resembled a standard Air Force base’s transient lodging facility — except for the security. Like every building they could see, it was surrounded by tall barbed-wire fences and ringed by security cameras. They decided it was very much like being in prison.
Breakfast was “continental”—rolls, toast, cold cereal, juices, and coffee, wheeled in a tall stainless-steel warming cart, along with the Las Vegas newspaper and USA Today. Like the TV, the papers focused on the Korea situation.
Except for occasional comments about a TV or newspaper item, there was almost no talk. Then John Long and Rinc Seaver reached for the copy of USA Today at the same time. “You’ve got it, Long Dong,” Rinc said.
“No. Go ahead.”
“I can wait.”
“Jesus Christ, Seaver, you irritate the hell out of me every time I talk to you,” Long snapped. “Take the damn paper, I said.”
“Is that an order, sir?”
“Hey, how about I order you to shut your fucking mouth, asshole?”
“What is it with you, Colonel?” Rinc asked angrily. “You can’t give me one goddamn break. I do a good job for you, I bust my nuts to be the best, and all I get is grief.”
“Everyone gets what they deserve, Seaver,” John Long said. “Maybe you get grief because you deserve it. Maybe you just rub most folks the wrong way. That’s why everyone hates your fucking guts.”
“No one asked you, Long.”
“Hey, Major Jerkoff, you watch who you’re talking to!” Long retorted. “Act like an aviator instead of teacher’s ass-kissing pet…”
“I got an ass for you to kiss, Long, right here.”
“Maybe you ought to be kissing a little less butt with your buddy the general and concentrate on doing your job,” Long said. “You almost killed us yesterday on the range. I’m surprised you didn’t punch out again, Seaver.”
The other members of Aces High were startled; this was the first they had heard of the incident. “The general probably had to fight to keep your hands off the handles.”
“You’re the ass-kisser, Long,” Seaver said. “You got your nose so far up Furness’s ass that she needs to fart for you to breathe.”
Long lunged at Seaver in a rage so violent that it stunned. Long got in one good shot at Seaver’s face and drew blood from a cut on the lip before Seaver fought him off.
“Knock it off!” Furness shouted. Someone tried to grab Long’s arms from behind, but he shrugged them off and went at Seaver again. This time it was Furness who got in his way. “I said knock it off, John!” she shouted again.
“I’m gonna kick that asshole’s butt but good!” Long yelled. “He damned near kills his crew again, and he has the nerve to mouth off at you and me?”
“Room, ten-hut!” someone called out. Everyone automatically snapped to attention as Patrick McLanahan and Hal Briggs entered the dayroom.
Patrick looked at Seaver’s cut lip, then at Long, and finally at Furness. “What the hell is going on in here, Colonel?” he asked.
“Hangar flying, sir,” Furness replied.
“Don’t shit around with me, Colonel!” Patrick snapped. “I’m asking you again, what the hell is going on in here?”
“We are having a critique of our first day on the ranges, sir,” Furness replied. “Our discussions sometimes get a little heated.”
“How did the major’s lip get cut?”
“I cut myself shaving, sir,” Rinc replied.
“Is that right?” Patrick walked over to Seaver and looked him in the face. Seaver kept his eyes straight ahead. “It looks to me like you got hit, Major Seaver. Colonel Briggs?”
Hal Briggs grabbed John Long’s right hand and lifted it up so everyone could see. Long tried to snatch it away but found Briggs’s grip as strong as steel. There was a gash on his right middle knuckle. “Looks to me like Colonel Long hit him with his right fist, sir,” said Briggs.
“Did he hit you, Major?” Patrick asked.
“No, sir.”
“Don’t lie to me, Major!” Patrick shouted. “There are reasons for every argument, and even reasons for someone to take a swing at another officer. I can understand such actions. I can even excuse them if they’re provoked, or if there’s good cause and the man is genuinely sorry and willing to repent. But I will not tolerate lying for any reason. A liar is someone of imperfect and questionable character. A liar is not fit to fly in my planes. A liar is not fit to wear a uniform or command a fighting unit. A liar is not fit to walk upon the same ground that true American heroes have walked on. I will turn in my stars and wings before I allow a liar to remain one second longer on this base and tarnish the honor and memory of the great men and women who have stood here and given their lives for this country.”
Patrick stood face-to-face with Rinc Seaver. “Now, which are you, Major? Are you going to lie to my face? Are you going to show me you have no character? Or are you going to tell me the truth and let us deal with this incident like officers?”
“I will tell you the truth, sir,” Seaver responded.
“That’s all I ask, Major,” Patrick said, much more gently. “After all, it does look like you were the wronged one. The truth never hurts the innocent. Now, what happened? Is my chief of security’s observation wrong? Did Colonel Long strike you?”