of military matériel, and Cubans, both across Lake Tanganyika and coming across the Congo River from Congo Brazzaville, and (b) to have accurate and timely intel vis-à-vis Mitoudidi’s intentions, and that brings us back to Major Lunsford’s outposts in the Luluabourg area.”
“How are you going to get that intelligence?” Cecilia Taylor asked. It was the first time she had spoken.
“Colonel Supo’s agents have the intel, Miss Taylor,” Father Lunsford said. “The problem is getting it out before it’s yesterday’s news.”
“How are you going to solve that problem, Major Lunsford?” she asked.
“We’re making up sort of A Teams, mixed Congolese and American,” Lunsford said, and paused. “You know what I’m talking about?”
“I know what an A Team is,” she said.
“The teams will consist of two American Special Forces people who speak Swahili,” Lunsford went on, “and have experience in Vietnam in running around in the bad guy’s backyard without getting caught. There will be at least one, maybe two, ASA radio people. There will be six Congolese paratroopers, and two of those six will be what the Congolese call trackers. The trackers will establish contact with Colonel Supo’s agents, bring their intel to the outpost, where it will be relayed to L-19s flying overhead on a regular schedule.”
“These ASA people,” O’Hara said. “They’re technicians. Can they survive in the bush?”
“We ran them through a jackleg course at Fort Bragg,” Lunsford said. “They’ll be all right. And they all want to go.”
“And what if a team is detected?” O’Hara pursued.
“The worst possible scenario?” Lunsford asked rhetorically. “That’s when we’ll need some more air support. We don’t have, and can’t get, because that would blow the covert nature of this operation, any extraction choppers—Hueys—so if a team is discovered, we’ll first send in the T-28s and the B-26s to suppress fire while we jump reinforcements in from C-47s. If we can do that, jump in a platoon of Colonel Supo’s shooters with some heavier weaponry—machine guns, mortars, et cetera—and maintain the air cover over the position, Colonel Supo and I figure we can get a reaction team to the site on the ground before things go down the tube.”
“And that brings us . . .” Lowell said, looking at the Léopoldville CIA station chief, “. . . Charley, is it?”
“My name is Willard, Colonel,” the CIA station chief said reprovingly. “Charles M. Willard.”
“I thought I heard Howard call you ’Charley,’ ” Lowell said. “Sorry.”
“It’s Charles, Colonel, Charles M. Willard.”
“Well, now that that’s been straightened out, Charles,” Lowell said, “as I was saying, Charles, that brings us to the vehicles in your motor pool. Which is, as I understand it, at Kamina?”
“I have some vehicular assets at Kamina, but none that can be diverted from supporting Major Hoare and his forces.”
“Tell me something, Howard,” Lowell said. “I was under the impression that you and I were sent here by our bosses to make sure that my people and your people, who have had little disagreements in the past, kissed, made up, and were made to understand we’re on the same team. Was I wrong?”
“That’s essentially correct, of course,” O’Connor said.
“Don’t you think it’s about time you passed that on to Charles, here?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Colonel,” O’Connor said.
“Yes, you do. And I’ve had about all I intend to take of Mr. Willard.”
“Is that so?” O’Connor flared.
“Yes, it is. I’m right on the edge of suggesting to Colonel Supo that he requisition all of the vehicles in the Kamina motor pool.”
And you would do just that, wouldn’t you, you sonofabitch?
“What I think, Colonel,” O’Connor said, “is that Mr. Willard was simply trying to make you aware that Major Hoare’s operations would be severely curtailed if you took the vehicular assets at Kamina—”
“I didn’t tell him how many vehicles I need,” Lowell snapped.
“So how could he make that judgment?” He paused. “I’m right on the edge of calling this conference off and telling my boss that what he and your boss thought was a pretty good idea failed in the execution.”
“How many vehicles are you going to need, Colonel?” Cecilia turned and asked.
“Six two-and-a-half-ton six-by-six trucks, with trailers; a fuel truck; a wrecker; two jeeps; and two three-quarter-ton trucks, with trailers,” Geoff Craig said. “Colonel Supo will provide the drivers from the reaction force.”
“That doesn’t sound unreasonable to me,” Cecilia Taylor said. “Why can’t you do that, Charley?”
“Welcome to the team, Miss Taylor,” Lowell said.
Charles Willard gave her a dirty look and then looked to Howard W. O’Connor for support and got