to five percent of the promotions on any promotion list may be awarded without regard to their seniority (time in grade) to officers who have demonstrated outstanding capabilities.
That makes sense, Felter thought. He’s an usually bright officer; he worked hard for Bob Bellmon, and because he worked for Bellmon he knows a lot more than most captains do about aviation, and he’ll work hard for George Rand, who’ll write him another outstanding efficiency report, and he’ll earn a place on the five percent list.
“I’m sure he could,” Felter said. “Father, quickly, before he comes back: I don’t need an answer right now, although I’d like one, but would you be willing to continue working on Africa?”
“Jesus Christ, I haven’t been home seventy-two fucking hours, and you’re asking me to go back to the fucking African jungle?” Lunsford flared, then got control of himself. “Sorry, sir. I know you wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t necessary. What went wrong over there now?”
“I don’t think you’ll have to go back in the jungle, Father,” Felter said. “The deal is this. I’ve managed to convince the President that Che Guevara has to be watched—”
“In Africa?” Lunsford asked dubiously.
“Yeah, in Africa. Later, Central and South America. But right now in Africa.”
“Why don’t we just shoot the sonofabitch? I heard he shot, or had shot, a thousand people in cold blood in Havana. . . .”
“The figure was higher,” Felter said. “And that’s what the CIA wants to do—terminate him.”
“It sounds like a good idea to me. But why me?”
“I’m not asking you anything like that, Father. And actually, we don’t—the President and I don’t—want him terminated. We don’t want to turn him into a martyr.”
“You don’t want to turn who into a martyr?” Captain John S. Oliver asked, cheerfully, as he came back into the game room.
And then he saw the looks he got from Felter and Lunsford, and it cut through the alcohol.
“Sorry, sir,” he said. “I’ll wait outside.”
“Come in, close the door behind you, and sit down, Captain,” Felter ordered.
The tone of Felter’s voice, too, cut through the alcohol. “Colonel, no excuse, sir, but I’ve had a couple of drinks,” Oliver said. “Maybe it would be better if I . . .”
Felter pointed to a chair, and Oliver sat down.
“You are advised, Captain, that what we are discussing is classified Top Secret,” Felter said.
“Yes, sir.”
“When there is time, there will be another classification, Top Secret Slash Something. You understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“There’s no reason not to label this right now,” Felter said. “Okay. The material we will discuss is classified Top Secret Slash Ernesto . . . make that Top Secret Slash Earnest. Got that, the both of you?”
“Yes, sir,” they said, nearly in unison.
“I understand you will be going to work for General Rand at the 11th Air Assault at Benning,” Felter said.
“Yes, sir.”
“General Rand will not be cleared for Top Secret/Earnest, and neither will anyone else at Benning,” Felter said. “Which means that he cannot be made privy to Slash Earnest information. Clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“When are you going to Bragg, Father?”
“Actually, we were talking about driving down there tomorrow, ” Lunsford said. “Not for duty. We know some people down there we haven’t seen since Vietnam.”
“The only person at Benning who will be, for the foreseeable future, cleared for Earnest will be General Hanrahan.”
“I understand, sir,” Lunsford said.
“I don’t, sir,” Oliver said.
“We’re going to keep an eye on Che Guevara,” Felter said. “Maybe cause him some trouble, but we are not, repeat not, going to terminate him, and we’re going to do our damndest to make sure Langley doesn’t terminate him, either.”
“It’s probably the alcohol, sir, but I still don’t understand,” Oliver said. “Che Guevara in Cuba?”
“He’s leaving for Africa in a couple of days,” Felter said. “To get to the point here, I want to make Father the project officer.”
“He just got of there, barely,” Oliver said.
“I don’t want him to get involved with anything like that again,” Felter said. “I want him to run this.”
“Explain ‘run this,’ please, Colonel,” Lunsford said. “And ‘project officer.’ ”
“Set up a team, as small as possible, but as large as you need. You’ll run it. The first priority will be to keep me up to date on what he’s doing, and where.”
“Won’t the CIA be doing that?”
“Yeah, they will, and I will have—which means you will have— access to what they develop. But I want independent reports. And, where and when possible, I want to destroy his image.”
“His image?”
“Right now, he’s sort of like a movie