“And when that inevitably happens, and he comes to me, as I strongly suspect he will, I will resort to the last defense of the Machiavellians. I will tell the truth. These machines were brought to my attention; I concluded that at the moment I could see no really practical operational use for them, but thought that the CIA might find some use for them.”
[FIVE]
THE CAPITOL BUILDING SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA 1205 29 SEPTEMBER 1950
“Mr. President,” General of the Army Douglas MacArthur sonorously intoned, “in God’s name, I herewith return the city of Seoul to you as the chief of its lawful government.”
There came the shock wave of what most experienced soldiers and Marines in the building recognized as coming from a massive 155-mm cannon “time on target”—that is, the firing of perhaps ten, fifteen, or more heavy cannon nearly simultaneously, so that their projectiles would all land on the target at the same instant.
The shock wave caused plaster and glass to fall from the ceiling and walls of the bullet-pocked building. Many people cringed.
MacArthur did not seem to notice.
“I invite you now to join me in recitation of the Lord’s Prayer,” he went on. “Our Father which art in heaven . . .”
“Am I allowed to ask questions?” Captain George F. Hart, USMCR, asked of Brigadier General Pickering ten minutes later.
“Shoot,” Pickering said.
“That was the DSC El Supremo gave Almond and the other guy, Walker, wasn’t it? The cross, as opposed to the medal? As in DSM?”
“A little decorum would be in order, Captain Hart. Yes, General MacArthur has just decorated General Almond and General Walker with the Distinguished Service Cross.”
“I thought that was like the Navy Cross, that you only got it for courage above and beyond in combat.”
“The DSC is the Army version of the Navy Cross. And General MacArthur apparently feels that the service of both general officers was above and beyond the call of the duty in combat. Any further questions, Captain Hart?”
“No, sir.”
“Good,” Pickering said. “One day, George, your curiosity is going to get us both in trouble.” He paused. “Where’s McCoy going to meet us?”
“Outside,” Hart said. “He sent Zimmerman back out to Kimpo to see if Colonel Dunn had sent any fresh aerials, and wasn’t sure they’d let Zimmerman in here without a fuss.”
“Let’s go. El Supremo told me he wants to get out of here as soon as possible.”
Miss Jeanette Priestly was sitting in McCoy’s Russian jeep and he and Zimmerman were leaning against it. The men stood erect when they saw Pickering coming.
“You should have come inside, Ken,” Pickering greeted him. “That was an historic moment.”
“I wanted to see what, if anything, Billy Dunn came up with,” McCoy said matter-of-factly, then added: “Nothing, I’m afraid, sir.”
“And what do you make of that, Ken?” Pickering asked.
“He’s moving again, sir. Probably north. Zimmerman told Colonel Dunn where we think he might be headed. Either almost due east, toward Wonju, or northeast, toward Chunchon. There’s not many paved roads in that area, mostly rice paddies. I think he wants to be somewhere where there won’t be much movement on the roads. . . .”
“Like yours, for instance,” Jeanette said.
The men looked at her but said nothing.
“. . . and where he can easily find rice paddies to stamp out his arrows,” McCoy finished.
“We have to presume, sir, that the NKs have also come across one of Pick’s stampings. And that they would be looking for others. The advantage we have is that we’ve got air superiority, which means they have to look at paddies from the ground. The more paddies there are, the more they have to look at. . . .”
Pickering nodded.
“I take your point. You think Pick has thought of this?”
“I’m sure he has,” McCoy replied. “General, there’s often been two- and three-day intervals between sightings. There may be another this afternoon; if not, then probably tomorrow. When there is—”
“You’ll go out again,” Pickering finished the sentence for him.
“Yes, sir. Of course.”
“Pick is really putting a lot of lives at risk, isn’t he?” Pickering said, and then he heard what he had said and added: “That sounded pretty stupid, didn’t it?”
“General,” McCoy said, “we’re Marines. We go after people who find themselves in trouble.”
“What I meant to say was that the lives we’re putting at risk are yours and Zimmerman’s, and I can’t afford to lose either of you. Isn’t there someone else