“Please join us, Colonel,” Mobutu said in French. “And let us know what you think of our Congolese beer.”
“Thank you, sir,” Felter said, and helped himself to a beer before sitting down.
“Major Lunsford was just telling me that despite the terrible things this Cuban plans for my country—that is, if he actually does plan terrible things for my country, of which I am yet to be convinced—that the President of the United States wants him kept alive. And I had just asked him why I should believe either thing.”
“General,” Felter said. “Insofar as Guevara’s intentions are concerned, I’ve got material in my briefcase that should remove any doubts you may have. And I hope this will remove any doubts you might have about President Johnson.”
Felter handed Mobutu a small, nearly square envelope.
Mobutu opened it, read it, and then laid it on the table where Jack could see it.
THE WHITE HOUSE
WASHINGTON, D. C.
January 12, 1965
Lieutenant General Joseph D. Mobutu Chief of Staff, the Army of the Republic of the Congo
By Hand
Dear General Mobutu:
This will introduce Counselor-to-the-President of the United States Colonel Sanford T. Felter, USA, who has my absolute confidence and speaks for me.
Lyndon B. Johnson
LYNDON BAINES JOHNSON
Mobutu looked at Felter for a long moment before finally speaking.
“So you are a little more than a parachute officer, Colonel?” Mobutu said.
“Like yourself, General, I am a parachute officer whom fate has chosen to give additional duties.”
Mobutu chuckled.
“I will have to give this matter some thought,” Mobutu said.
By that he means he wants to ask Dannelly what he thinks he should do, Jack thought. Which means we’re right back at square one. His decision will be based on whether or not Finton can convince Dannelly that we’re doing the righteous thing in the eyes of God.
“Of course,” Felter said.
[ EIGHT ]
Captain Jean-Philippe Portet showed up fifteen minutes later, interrupting Major Lunsford’s lecture on the training of Special Forces soldiers, and the composition of Green Beret A and B Teams, which Mobutu had obviously found fascinating.
He and Mobutu embraced warmly, and when Captain Portet helped himself to a beer, Mobutu asked for another.
“It’s good to have you back, my friend,” Mobutu said. “I have missed you.”
“And I have missed you,” Portet said, tapping the neck of his beer bottle against Mobutu’s, then slumping into one of the chairs. “And I’m going to miss the house—the Congo—very much. I can only hope it won’t take long.”
“What are you talking about?” Mobutu asked, confused.
“You don’t know, obviously,” Captain Portet said. “I thought Jacques or Colonel Felter would have told you.”
Mobutu flashed a look of annoyance at both Jack and Felter. “Told me what?”
“Jacques is not the only one who’s been conscripted,” Portet said.
“Conscripted?” Mobutu asked. “You mean into the Army?”
“Not exactly,” Captain Portet said. “But into government service. ”
“Can they do that?” Mobutu asked incredulously.
“Well, it’s about the same thing that happened to you, Joseph,” Captain Portet said. “I know you didn’t want to remain chief of staff. . . .”
In a pig’s ass, he didn’t, Jack thought.
“You had done your military service, as I had, and as Jacques is now doing,” Portet said. “You had earned the right to take off your uniform and put soldiering behind you. But duty called. There was no one better qualified than you to command the army, and you knew it.”
“I saw it as my duty,” Mobutu said. “You and I talked about it.”
“And when we talked about it, we talked about it meaning that keeping the position would mean a great loss of income for you.”
“I saw it as my duty,” Mobutu repeated modestly.
Christ, he’s playing this for Father’s benefit, maybe for Colonel Felter’s, too, but he really wants Lunsford to see what a noble man, what a patriot, he is. He’s glad my father gave him the opportunity.
“How long did that last?” Portet asked.
“Eight days,” Mobutu said. “Kasavubu and Lumumba should have known that after Independence the Force Publique would not serve under Belgian officers. I told them both the Force Publique would mutiny, and it did.”
“And you knew then that only you could stop the mutiny. . . .”
“They saw me as a fellow soldier, one who understood their concerns,” Mobutu said. “I did what had to be done.”
You made colonels—including yourself—out of Force Publique sergeant majors, majors out of sergeants, lieutenants out of corporals, and every private who could read and write got to be a sergeant, Jack thought. But, I