another we’re speaking of for love. With disastrous results later, when . . . that sort of attraction . . . disappears in the realities of marriage.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” Hanrahan agreed.
“General, as you know, with your approval, it has been my policy that when young people come to me for prenuptial counseling, I invariably ask them to think it over, prayerfully, for two weeks, and then come back.”
“I think that’s a very good idea,” Hanrahan said.
“When I suggested this to Captain Oliver and Mrs. Wood, Captain Oliver said that he was getting married tomorrow— which is today—whether by me in the chapel, or by the nearest justice of the peace.”
“That’s what he said, huh?”
“And Mrs. Wood seems equally determined.”
“Well, he’s going on TDY tomorrow for a couple of weeks,” Hanrahan said. “Obviously, he wants to tie the knot before he goes.”
“Several weeks of separation might be just what the situation calls for,” Chaplain Martin said. “It would give the both of them time to cool off . . . that was an unfortunate choice of words, forgive me . . . think things over seriously.”
“So what you’re thinking of is declining to perform the ceremony? ”
“What I’m thinking of, General—and I realize this is an imposition—is that you speak with Captain Oliver.”
“Padre, at sixteen hundred hours this afternoon, you are going to marry them in the chapel,” Hanrahan said. “That’s what they call an order.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Believe me, Padre, those two have really given this a whole hell of a lot of thought. And with a little bit of luck—he is an officer and a gentleman, after all—he will refrain from sprinkling any more pollen on her until after the wedding and the reception. Which Mrs. Hanrahan and I are giving at the O Club, and to which you are of, course, invited.”
"Yes, sir.”
“Anything else, Padre?”
Captain Martin got out of the chair, came to attention, and saluted.
“No, sir,” he said. “By your leave, sir?”
“Granted,” Hanrahan said, and returned the salute.
Chaplain (Lt. Col.) Martin executed a perfect about-face movement and marched out of the office.
[ FIVE ]
Room 637, The Executive Office Building
Washington, D.C.
1045 28 January 1965
“Major Lunsford on two-two, Colonel,” Mary Margaret Dunne said.
Felter grabbed the red secure phone on his desk before he remembered Mary Margaret had said “two-two.” He dropped the red phone, picked up the black, multiline phone and punched the illuminated button.
“Felter.”
“Lunsford, sir. The line is not secure.”
“Go.”
“Sir, how would you feel about me sending Doubting Thomas to Supo instead of south?”
“Reasoning?”
“I don’t want Colonel Supo to have second thoughts,” Lunsford said. “The sooner we get him the airplane, the better, and once he’s got it, he’s sort of committed.”
“And Doubting Thomas and Supo are going to get along?”
“Master Sergeants understand master sergeants, sir.”
“And Supo and what’s the captain’s name?”
“Smythe, sir. I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. Oliver likes him.”
“Do it,” Felter ordered, then asked, “What’s the status of the L-19?”
“It’s painted, sir,” Lunsford said. “And the radios are in. Smythe wonders why we can’t fly it here at night, instead of waiting for the Air Force.”
“Do it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Any problems with the trip down south?”
“No, sir. Departure is scheduled for 1400 29 January; ETA they don’t know, but probably no later than 2 February. It’s about thirty-six hours in the air.”
“Keep me advised.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Anything else?”
“I’d like to go on the 130 with the L-19, sir. Put Supo together with Smythe and Thomas.”
“Let me think about that. Oliver will be south with Portet. Who’d be minding the store?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Anything else?”
“Oliver’s getting married at sixteen hundred, sir.”
“To the lady who lost her husband?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Does General Bellmon know?”
“I don’t know, sir. Perhaps Marjorie told him. Or Mrs. Bellmon. I’ll find out for sure, sir.”
“I’ll handle it. Anything else?”
“No, sir.”
Felter hung up without another word.
“Mary Margaret?” he called.
“She’s in the ladies’ room, Colonel,” Warrant Officer Finton called, then appeared in the door.
“Call the Air Force, lay on a Lear for right now. Destination, Fort Bragg and possibly Fort Rucker first. They can drop me and pick me up later.”
“Yes, sir.”
Felter reached for the red secure telephone.
“Get me General Bellmon at Fort Rucker,” he ordered when the White House operator came on the line.
[ SIX ]
Office of the Deputy Director
The Central Intelligence Agency
Langley, Virginia
1115 28 January 1965
“Thanks for fitting me in, Paul,” Howard W. O’Connor, the assistant director for administration of the Central Intelligence Agency, said to the deputy director.
“Happy to,” the deputy director said. “But I have to be in the District not later than half past twelve.