“I’m below you and taking ground fire. Lots of hostiles down here.” A short pause. “I’m in.”
Maggot descended out of the clouds as the distinctive sound of a GAU-8 cannon roared directly below him. He looked down between his legs and saw Duke pulling off from a strafing attack. He tugged on his right riser line, trying to drift away. His canopy ripped, and he looked up as the distinctive sound of a bullet whistled past. “Taking ground fire!” he radioed. He sawed at the risers, desperate as more bullets ripped into his parachute. He was falling faster as the trees rushed up to meet him. He crossed his ankles and disappeared into the dense foliage.
Maggot’s first conscious thought was that he was still alive. He looked down as he swayed back and forth, and calculated he was thirty to forty feet above the ground. He looked up. His parachute was snagged firmly in the branches above him. He heard voices off to his right, on the other side of the massive tree trunk. He managed to catch a branch as the voices grew louder and more distinct. He recognized a few words he had learned in China, and heard the anger. Moving as quietly as possible, he pulled himself onto the top of the thick branch and lay on his stomach. The chest strap of his parachute harness cut into him as he pressed against the branch, willing himself to be invisible. Two soldiers moved into view, and he prayed they wouldn’t see his camouflage parachute still hanging in the trees. He held his breath as one looked up, directly at him. Not knowing what to look for, the soldier saw nothing and moved on, chattering aimlessly about something. Slowly Maggot reached for his survival radio and keyed the silent beacon, sending his location and warning Duke that he couldn’t talk or receive because he was surrounded.
He released the chest strap of his harness and pressed his cheek against the wood. An insect crawled up his face, but he didn’t move.
It was slightly after 9:00 P.M. when Shaw knocked on the door of the residence. Parrish opened the door and let him in. “You wanted to see me, Mizz President?” She patted the couch next to her and glanced at Parrish. Her chief of staff read her look correctly and excused himself. Shaw dropped his bulk down beside her and leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees.
“Patrick,” she began, “is something wrong?”
Whenever he was asked a direct question, Shaw’s natural instinct was to lie. He couldn’t help it, for he was a natural politician. But he would never lie to his president, the young woman he had befriended when she was a junior state senator in California and marginalized by the “old boys” who ran the state. He had mentored her in the realities of power politics, and she had taken him on the wildest ride of his life, straight into the national arena. “Yes, ma’am. It’s the cancer. Six months max.”
She held his hand, tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, so sorry.”
“It’s been a damn good run. No complaints, Mrs. President.”
“Will it ever be Maddy again?” she asked.
“No, ma’am.” How could he explain? She was his guiding star, his reason for living, the daughter he never had, and all that he could never be. He didn’t even try to tell her what was in his heart. Instead, “Bobbi Jo is backstopping me on the campaign.” Maddy nodded. Bobbi Jo Reynolds was the vice chairman of the reelection committee and Shaw’s protégée. She was a heavyset woman with short black hair, thick glasses, and a cherubic look. But underneath lurked the heart of a pit bull and the mind of a Machiavelli. “She can take over if I go lame.” He stared at his hands. “Mrs. President, the war is killin’ us. End it or we get flushed.”
Again the nod. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“I know. It’s the casualties. I’ve seen your face. I know what it’s doing to you.”
“I’m going to bring the Germans in,” she told him. “Please don’t ask me how.”
“That was the policy meeting this afternoon?”
She nodded. “Mazie’s in Germany. Her contact is von Lubeck.”
“He is the man over there.” Shaw pulled into himself and redrew the power structure of Europe. “I suppose Butler is approaching the Turks?” She looked at him in surprise, stunned that he had divined the strategy. “That’s gonna take some fancy dancin’ with the facts.” He allowed a little chuckle. “Bernie’s the man.”
“What about Leland?” she asked.
Shaw grunted. “I’m taking care of it. Give me a few days.”
Twenty-three
Kamigami, Tel, and Waldo were with the battalion’s headquarters company explaining how a FAC worked when Duke’s Mayday came over the UHF radio. Waldo grabbed the mike and acknowledged the call. “Understand Maggot is down. Say coordinates.” While he copied the coordinates, Kamigami explained what was happening and Tel translated into Chinese. “Duke, are you in contact with Chicken Coop?” Waldo asked.
“Negative,” Duke answered.
“He’s too low,” Waldo said. “Can we raise ’em on the field telephone?”
“I can try,” Tel replied. He spoke to the battalion’s communications officer while Waldo plotted the coordinates on a chart. Kamigami hovered like an anxious hawk in the background, eager to escape his tether. “That’s it,” Waldo finally said, tapping Maggot’s position on the chart. “He’s down near a ridgeline close to a place called Kemayan, fifty miles to the northwest.” He keyed the radio. “Duke, say position of hostiles.”
“Hostiles are concentrated along the main LOC south of a village,” Duke replied. An LOC was a line of communication, in this case the main north-south road running down the center of the peninsula. “The village is Kemayan, I think. Problems. Lots of refugees on the LOC.”
“Can you keep the hostiles away from Maggot?” Waldo said.
“Am I cleared in hot?” Duke asked, sounding much too enthusiastic.
Waldo gritted his teeth. “Stand by one.” He hated saying that, but he had to clear it through Pontowski at Camp Alpha. “I’ve got to coordinate with Chicken Coop,” he explained to his listeners. Tel handed him the phone, telling him Alpha was on the line. “Let me speak to Bossman,” Waldo said. Pontowski was on the phone in seconds, and Waldo quickly explained the situation.
Pontowski didn’t hesitate. “You’ve got it, Waldo. Duke is the airborne SAR commander for now.” SAR was search and rescue. “He’s cleared to use whatever he’s got but to stay one kilometer away from the LOC. Four Hogs headed your way ASAP.” A short pause. “Scrambling now, they should be on station in twenty minutes. Let me speak to General Kamigami.” Waldo handed Kamigami the receiver, which seemed to disappear in his huge hand. “Victor,” Pontowski said, “can you help us with search and rescue?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Kamigami answered. “Ask Colonel Sun to form up two teams for a ground extraction and send them our way in two helicopters. Bring my gear.”
“Copy all,” Pontowski replied. Another short pause. “Colonel Sun says they’ll be airborne in two hours.”