Pat came in through the closed door as I got off the phone. Her barging in part of the continuing exhibition of disrespect she’d been exhibiting from the beginning. No bonus apparently meant anything to her.
“You want to knock in the future?” I asked her, pointedly.
“The office is Banker’s Life so only the agents are yours to boss around.”
I sat back and breathed in and out deeply, wondering whether to call in my two agents who’d just been ‘hired’ before they started training to acquaint Pat with a hole out in the desert. But I needed her. I let my breath out. I would not be around long enough to support her replacement, not yet anyway.
“That’s true,” I said. “What is it now?”
“The packages you wanted to be sent are ready,” she said, smiling at me for the first time, probably in triumph. “The one is going to an address in Korea but there’s no address for the other.”
“I’m going on a short business trip, so I’ll take it with me to drop off.”
Pat pulled a file up from where she’d been holding it down at her side, held it out, and dropped it in front of me with a slight smack, before turning and exiting out leaving the door gaping open. Once again, I had to get up and close it myself thinking about how convenient it would be to have only the job of agency manager, which would require no confidential conversations at all.
I picked up the phone and called Herbert back, but he didn’t answer. I asked for the duty officer and waited until I got her on the line.
“My control told me that I could only use the Amex card for mission-related expenses,” I said, taking a short breath.
“That’s accurate,” the woman answered, tersely.
“He also told me that I have to get to Washington from Albuquerque and back which is going to take money. He said that my travel and operations in
Korea was not a mission, however. He said they were a test, and the test was not over.”
“Who is your control officer,” the woman asked.
“Anthony Herbert,” I replied.
The woman started laughing gently. “He was kidding. That’s the way it is with him. Of course, it was a mission. Anyone and there aren’t many, carrying your designation are always on missions even when lounging around a pool or in the surf on Waikiki Beach.”
“My designation?” I asked, in surprise. “What exactly is my designation?”
“That’s classified,” the woman replied, going all serious once again.
“
How can it be classified if you know what it is?” I asked, not understanding. “If I am the person designated then certainly, with my Top-Secret clearance I should know.”
“You do have the clearance, you just don’t have a need to know,” the woman said, flatly, as if the conversation was over.
“I need to know,” I said, slightly raising my voice, more in wonder than anger.
“Need to know is not assigned by the person saying he or she needs to know. That’s assigned by others above both of our pay grades.”
“I have a pay grade?” I asked, learning more from the hard-bitten woman than I’d been able to get out of Herbert about my status.
“That’s classified,” she replied.
I knew the woman was enjoying herself at my expense, but I needed information.
“I’m in my insurance management office,” I said, changing the subject.
“How can I be sure that my conversations are encrypted from prying ears or people listening in here?”
“You’re evidently brand new to the field,” the woman replied.
I waited, patiently but a little peevishly as well.
“Open the left drawer of your desk,” the woman instructed.
I obeyed.
“What do you see?” she asked.
“A black box with switches and round lights in a row across the top,” I answered, my forehead wrinkled in wonder that I’d never bothered to open that drawer before.
“Your conversations with this number are always encrypted, but to the outside world you push the switch to the left to encrypt outgoing and the one next to it to encrypt incoming. The next switch turns on the VSA system.
I stared down in curiosity and surprise.
“What’s a VSA?” I asked, knowing she was waiting for just that question.
That last switch turns on the Voice Stress Analyzer, which is there to see how much stress might be in the voice coming through the line, encrypted or not.
“Lie detector?” I asked, again surprised.
“The more red lights that go on the more stress is in the voice pattern and therefore the likelihood of lying goes up.”
I switched the VSA to on.
“Is my pay grade truly classified?” I asked.
“What are you doing?” the woman said, her tone this time a bit angry.
“Funny, the lights are all red,” I replied, lying and then hanging up.
I booked my flight to Washington for late in the morning. Mary would not be happy, but I had no choice. Not only did I need to deliver and take the application for our own finances, but I had to find out what was going on with the new medical company and then visit Captain John McCain. That visit kind of sat at the edge of my mind, as the man had been a prisoner of war for five years in North Vietnam. Whatever he might have to do with anything had Vietnam footprints and fingerprints all over it in my mind and I didn’t want those feet and fingers to have anything to do with me.
I left the office and headed north on the road just outside that ran along the Rio Grande River, although at this time of the year, it was more a big stream rather than a river. Along the right side of the road, a big ranch house and then a huge warehouse appeared. The immaculate black letters on a white background sign read ‘Anderson Valley Vineyards’.
I turned in. Maxie Anderson, the world-class balloonist who’d been killed in Germany had started the vineyard right before he crashed his balloon in a storm. His son, now also a world record-setting balloonist, ran the place. My little personal mission was to somehow ingratiate myself with this special man and then find a way to go ballooning and become a balloon pilot. Somehow, after that, I might be able to wangle a balloon out of the Agency, although that seemed doubtful given Herbert’s comments about it.
Anderson was out but this sommelier was there. The tall skinny man wanted me to take a tour of the winery, but I begged off. I wasn’t a fan of wine drinking or any other drinking that might slow me down and moving fast in the multiple things I was being required to do was the key to everything.
I left a note indicating that I was housed just down the road and had been recommended to him by a friend of the family in D.C. I left my number but didn’t hold out much hope. The kid was famous, probably still going through the grief process, and not likely to respond. I knew I’d be calling on the winery again, although I didn’t mind looking around There was a comforting warmth to the place, and that no doubt was a function of the man running it. I had no friends in Albuquerque, in fact, just the opposite. Pat and Allen Weh, both disliked me rather intensely. I needed at least one friend, other than Mary, Jules, and Michael.
Mary wasn’t happy. She felt that Washington was about as dangerous a place for me to be as Korea had been. But I had no choice. My argument that we had a new house, new cars, two great kids in schools that were quality, a country club half a block away, and a real office, no matter how fake parts of it were likely to be, were solid and she bought them. The preparations and flight to D.C. were both without incident. I checked into the Willard Hotel, across from the Whitehouse. It was expensive but the culture in the place drew me in like a magnet. The Horseshoe bar off the lobby, where only recently women were allowed in.
The drive to the office building by cab took only a few moments as the traffic on the screwed-up layout of Washington streets was beyond belief but it was early in the day. The office was an imposing structure, six stories in height, and looked like it could house an entire insurance company rather than a small insurance office. The cab dropped me off near the downramp to the parking area.
I walked down the ramp which curved sharply at the bottom. It was a strange feature of the underground parking. I stopped once I came to a steel-reinforced gate. The place was a fortress underground, just as I’d been warned. A mere medical insurance company office, offering policies to ex-pat Americans living abroad would more than seem to be out of place. It was out of place but there was nothing to be done about it except avoid visitors of just about every kind.
I had to walk back up out of the garage area and head for the main entrance. It was a long walk, just like almost anywhere one might want to reach in downtown Washington D.C. without using a vehicle to get there.
Once inside the structure, where there was no one present at all in the huge lobby area, I went over to the elevators set into an interior wall. There were six of them, once again huge overkill for an insurance office that might house six to ten people. I shook my head, as I read the only name on the index set between two of the elevators. BCBSNCA was on the top floor.
“Of course,” I whispered to myself. At least the use of the acronym for Blue Cross Blue Shield of the National Capital Area was a bit stealthy, as there was nothing else about the whole structure that didn’t denote some high security top secret organization likely housed inside.
I went up to the sixth floor, the elevator being uncommonly fast. The doors slid open, and I stepped into a scene of movement and noise. I stood in shock.
Twenty to thirty people were all over, moving desks and arranging many electronic devices. In its infancy, the office was populated by ten times the equipment and personnel that my semi-real insurance office in Albuquerque was.
The Ambassador came through the throngs of moving personnel, all of them, by their attire, not blue-collar workers of any kind.
Without a preamble or any re-introduction, he motioned me off to one side by taking me by my left elbow and guiding me along.
“Sorry about all this, but it’s taking more time to put together the whole operation in such short order. We were all waiting for you.”
“Me, why?” I asked in real surprise. I was there to see how things were going not to do much of anything else, and be found by whomever was the intermediary with Captain John McCain, whom the ambassador could know nothing about.
“Medical insurance policy we’ll be offering, and also make a presentation about what we’ll be offering abroad. Lots of excitement here, but we won’t be fully staffed for another few weeks.”
I looked around, thinking of what it might be like to stand in the middle of a thunderstorm with lightning striking all around while just waiting to be hit by one of the errant strokes. I’d brought no policy. Had no presentation and I had no idea what the scale of what I’d started had already grown to.
“The size of all this,” I finally got out.
“Oh, yes,” the ambassador laughed. “We’ve got to have U.S. arm and sell the policy at home back here to, just for good cover. Your agency in New Mexico can be the sales focal point. It all fits together so nicely, proving you are as brilliant as Colonel Herbert said you might be.”
I said nothing, the shocks reverberating through my mind and body not allowing me to adjust fast enough.
“I’ll be back in the morning to make the presentation and deliver the policy. Selling in the U.S. will have fifty-state ramifications as all insurance in the U.S. is state-regulated. We would have to register in all the states where the policy is to be sold.” I backed toward the closed elevator doors I’d come through.
“That’s why we have a whole legal section and Sullivan and Cromwell on full retainer.”
I gawked. Sullivan and Cromwell was the biggest and most expensive legal firm in Washington, and I knew that because my brother-in-law, Douglas Wiggly was an attorney there. I immediately knew that Doug, not my biggest fan on earth, must never know my association with the new company. Neither my parents nor my sister had any real use for me unless they were in trouble and needed something that they felt only I might provide. My being a ‘secret agent’ would do in whatever tattered relationships I had left there. The budget for just one part of my idea was consuming millions and I felt deep down that there was no stopping it at all.
“Tomorrow, at eleven,” I said, making it sound like that was what I had planned all along. In reality, I had no plan, except to get back to the room, get on the phone with Pat, and get the Banker’s Life of Iowa small group medical plan faxed to me as quickly as possible. Just before I pushed the elevator button, I stopped.
“Can I use your office for a confidential call?” I asked the ambassador, who had been about as much of a real ambassador as I was a secret agent.
“Certainly,” he replied, guiding me through the clutter to a corner office that overlooked the entire Potomac River. The view was magnificent. Back in my office in Albuquerque, I had a view of the parking lot, usually populated by FBI agents waiting to arrest me for anything they might discover.
I closed the huge thick wooden door, obviously and painstakingly made from a single piece of a giant Walnut tree. The sound of the door closing was like that of a bank vault door, or quite possibly a prison door.
I called my office in Albuquerque. Pat picked up immediately, changing her tone of welcome as soon as I said something. I was in no mood for her attitude, however.
“You know, Pat, that I’m the guy that got you a substantial bonus less than a month ago,” I said, but got no farther.
“I’m employed directly by Bankers, so I didn’t get the bonus, everyone else did.”
I put the receiver down and rubbed my face with both hands in disbelief and frustration. No wonder the woman disliked me, and she had good cause.
I picked the phone back up. “When I get back you will receive the bonus amount in cash. It will be in one hundred dollar
bills. The same amount as everyone else got. I had no idea you were left out, now here’s what I want you to do.”
Pat took my instructions without comment until I finished.
“Yes sir, it will be done immediately, and thank you,” she said, her tone completely different from every other time we’d spoken.
I hung up and exited first the office and then the building. I had a lot to do during the rest of the day ahead and probably the night too, depending upon what might become of the John McCain mystery visit. There should be absolutely no connection between us but then I’d been shocked before about how the Agency was not really caring or sensitive about such things when it came to the individual needs of its agents, in this case, me.
The taxi I’d taken still sat out near the corner of the building. The trip back to the hotel was as quick as the one out had been. I went straight to the front desk to let them know a fax was on the way that I needed as soon as it came in. The Willard front desk crew was first-rate, and I knew I was in good hands. I went up to my room to freshen up and then called my wife. On the elevator, which wasn’t fast at all, I thought about how I would have to modify the policy. There was no way that Bankers could ever come to know that their policy had been used as a template, and that was going to take some time and trouble on my part It would be easier simply because of what I was discovering about just how well funded this effort was going to be. The policy could be a whole lot less restrictive because the government was proving that it didn’t likely care about the payment of claims coming in. Those costs were going to be offset by the benefit of getting agents in and out of countries easily and without the usual perusal by custom0s and immigration officials. There was also the problem of remembering to deliver and make sure the ambassador understood the million-dollar life insurance policy he was about to purchase. I was about to be out more thousands when I flew back to Albuquerque to justifiably satisfy Pat’s needs wants and desires.
I opened my room door with the big ornate and very old key. I stepped inside, closed the door, and then turned.
A man stood by the window, his back to it. He was wearing a blue uniform with four gold stripes running around the lower part of his forearms. I stood and said nothing. He said nothing either.
I knew his stare. I’d seen it so well at the ‘officer’s quarters’ in the mud at An Hoa when I was about to be sent to die in the valley. It had come to be known as the thousand-yard stare.
We looked into each other’s eyes and I was taken aback.
No introduction was necessary.
Captain John McCain stood facing me, somehow, inside my room. I said nothing and intended to say nothing unless he spoke. Finally, he did.
“They tell me that you’re willing to go back and save some prisoners still being held in the North,” he said, with no expression, still giving me the coldest stare of my life.
WOW, Lt. the maze gets Longer and the corn gets higher. Very intriguing. Great chapter. Keep them coming. Semper fi
Thanks Steve for the great comment and the compliment you so nicely wrote on this site.
Semper fi,
Jim
Wow, you caught the chapter as it came out which is uncommon so thanks for the intense interest.
I will definitely keep them coming.
Semper fi,
Jim
Unreal, did McCain just suggest you go back to Nam? A twist I never expected. This saga keeps getting better. Keep them coming.
Not exactly what McCain said Phil but that will come in the next chapter. thanks for the support and the compliment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Sounds like the wild ride will continue
Buckle Up LT
Thanks Robert, and yes the wild ride continues…
Semper fi, and thanks for the comment and the compliment.
Jim
LT, lots of action which makes for great reading. Once again you’ve been dumped out of the frying pan straight into the fire. Along with that it seems some people really rely on you. Your family seems to stand on it’s on. And now some idiot is pitching the idea of rescuing American prisoners of war without even introducing his self. HELL NO. Keep writing it makes good reading.
Thanks JT, just laying it down as I experienced to the best of my recollection.
McCain at that time was still running from a carrier landing that went bad supposedly
because of him. Never made admiral because of it.
Semper fi, and th thanks for the compliment.
Jim
Jim,
Well, I see I am late getting to the party for comments. So you have inadvertently discovered why your secretary Pat was less than warm toward you.
How did John McCain get in your room? How quickly will you tell him that your desire to return to Vietnam is a negative number since you are not a good fit for that honcho-ing such a clandestine and extremely dangerous adventure?
Thanks for this week’s fix, Sir.
THE WALTER DUKE. You are always out there ahead of the story. I was a good fit for a lot of -stuff that I really
didn’t want to get involved with and how John got into my room is part of the next chapter. Thanks for your usual probbing
comment and questions Walter.
Semper fi,
Jim
Incredible the John McCain and a raiding party to North Vietnam to release some P.O.W.’S !!!! Glad you were able to resolve the issue with Pat and avoid a potential “hostile” work environment. Not sure I could trust her as far as I could throw her. Step carefully my friend and watch out for booby traps like that horrible valley you were sentenced to.
Nothing was as it seemed it was back then, and sometimes even now.
Yes, it is amazing how not being fully there can make a difference. When I had Herbert generate
those ‘bonus’ payments I never thought to ask who might be left out…and the potential damage of that.
Thanks for the great comment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Holy Moley, I am, again, blown away by what I read. I had a laugh out loud moment when you indicated that you detected stress on that earlier call, and then abruptly hung up! You have me locked in, Jim. Perhaps I need to wait until the book is printed so I can read it straight through. You’re the best! SF. Batman
Batman, I have lost your mailing address. Your check came and I went to sent the three books.
Please text it to me or respond on here and let me know. Thanks for the compliments on the chapter,
and yes, a lot of it was a hoot….
Semper fi,
Jim
I really need to keep a closer eye on my email, although reading two episodes at once means I kind of get a leg up, and some continuity.
As Arte Johnson used to say on Laugh In, “very interesting “
As I have previously stated, I love the fact you bring up the names of people ( seemingly out of the blue) who have historical and/or cultural significance.
It is my personal opinion that John McCain has had his name and legacy unfairly besmirched. Do you have information to the contrary? I know becoming a politician probably did him no favors, it’s such a smarmy business.
Keep ‘em coming Jim, and thank you again.
Tim
You will like the coming chapter Tim, at least I think. You are right, i ran into scads of rather
important people merely by being an available, trusted and pretty talented servant. You never rise above that role in the Agency. You think you will or can but in truth the big positions are always selected and many times from political connections. Hard for seasoned agents to work for.
Thanks for the great comment and the compliment.
Semper fi,
Jim
Mr. Strauss, Sir,
Holy S### !
(Although, it was at least good to find out why Pat hadn’t been very cooperative)
Yes that was good for me too, although the woman was always reserved. Thanks for the incisive comment and the compliment o you usual commenting on here.
Semper fi,
Jim
Out of the pan and unto the fire! You must have had some second thoughts about working for the Agency.
Not a fan of McCain at all. IMO, the man was a snake.
I’m glad you got to the bottom of the Pat situation. Having her on your side will certainly help with some of the many problems that are certain to arise.
It’s very interesting to see you integrate into the Agency, self-educate, if you will I hope you do get to attend “Charm School”. But having come to know you a bit, I am certain you will wind up changing the agenda somewhat.
IT is easy to forget, with the extensiveness of the intelligence penetration of the world by both living and non-living
agents in the field, that back then there were only 2000 field agents world wide who worked as field people for and with the CIA. When you consider that there are 192 countries, well, that’s not a whole lot. Thanks for the great comment, as usual my friend, and also the confidence you have today, going back to yesterday, that I would see my way through.
Thank you and I so hope you are feeling well.
Semper fi,
Jim
what a marvelous chapter I can’t tell you how exquisitely you write one of my favorite passages when you were talking to the woman from headquarters and you said all the lights are flashing red and hung up about the VSA that is something I would’ve done and I’m sure it did not make you one of her favorites as I too have been in that boat and then of course I use the old Polish serenity prayer which is fuck it
I am astounded at the size of the business operation you are about to set up I know nothing about insurance but that has got to be an enormous task with a lot of people and a lot of coordination to get it to run right God bless you my man now you’re encounter with the great Senator McCain i’ll give you part of the story of when I met him because I know exactly that low-key gave you when I met him in Lori‘s office at WGN radio I introduced myself and I said to him I want to thank you so much Senator for your service to our country your heroic service in the Navy is a pilot and your family’s contribution in the Navy I said it is just unbelievably wonderful that your family has such dedication to our country and did it so magnificently and he was bowing his head and going well thank you and he was truly humble and then I said it’s even more amazing when one considers that you were all a bunch of squids his head shot up there was this look on his face and in his eyes then those blue eyes of his started to twinkle big smile on his face and he said Spemper fi marine where did you serve my wife was having a stroke sitting at her desk but that’s part of the story will tell you at the ball
Well, here is Richard with one of his in depth offerings of compliment and also a provision of additional
detail and opinion that is all supportive as well as a bit revealing. Richard, like a few others who make comments here
provides significant life experience from his nwn background and that is simply precious stuff. Wonderful man and wonderful comment here.
Semper fi, my Breat friend,
Jim
Much of what you write fills in the blanks, in a general sense, about what I always thought about my Uncles life. I only was privy to a couple stories he related but he never spoke of a major portion of his life. WWII and Korea were well known in the family but his time as a Military Attache in S America little was known. I did learn later in conversation that he and another officer hunted Nazis with the Israeli Mossad. After he left the Corp he went to work for Bechtel and Aramco ostensibly to set up logistics for Oil Rigs in the N Atlantic and South China Seas. I only met and engaged with him once when I was 10, again at my Uncles (His brothers) Funeral. We talked there and he asked if would ever considered getting together with my Dad who had abandoned us when I was 5. I indicated I would. One phone call later he gave me his phone number and address. As I result I reunited with him after 50 years and about a year before he passed. I continued corresponding with my Uncle over the next decade or so until his passing. It was an honor to attend his Funeral at Arlington. We stayed at the Army Navy Club just behind the White House grounds. My two Marine Sons home on leave from Iraq were able to be part of the Honor Guard. I can sort of fill in the blanks in his life reading your chapters.
Wow! Now that’s an addition to this never-ending odyssey of learning and history all of us who are a part of the site are on. Thanks fo much for giving us all some of your family’s history and also your opinions about it. It’s an interesting story to say the least and a poignant one, as well, what with your dad runing out on you guys when you were so young. i can thank you enough for this hearfelt rendering of your family’s trials and tribulations, as well as you own.
Semper fi,
Jim
My 1st thought was to laugh! You learned in your short time RVN how to lead and fight tactically a Marine Company; nothing about logistically planning a joint covert raid into North Vietnam! McCain was a USN Captain that had learned how to tactically kill Vietnamese with an Attack Jet and be a POW! Talk about DC Joint Ops FNGs!!
Yes, the shocks came hard and fast as I tried to understand and accommodate what it was like to work for an organization
that seemed to lack the rigidity and discipline of the Marine Corps but still steer it’s troops into highly risky operations with little or no warning at all. Thanks for the usual great comment my great friend,
Semper fi,
Jim
I don’t think you should tell your wife that you’re going to go rescue POW’s. She might want to go along lol
I am afraid I told her everything I could at the time, not forgetting that there was some stuff
that had to be withheld, but going back to Vietnam wasn’t one of them.
Read on into the next chapter.
Semper fi,
Jim
Just when you climb out of the rabbit hole it drags you right back in!! This and last chapter seem to be setting up another exciting new trip, I will wait holding my breath for the next chapter, Keep them coming LT and Semper fi
Thanks Bob, and yes they came at me just that way, like waves rolling in toward the surfline, except without
me inside on my board to see which ones were too small or too large. Thanks for the great comment and the compliments.
Semper fi,
Jim
Edit – custom0s.
Interesting that many other people knew of your ideas and exploits
then using that concept for cover !!
Now McCain has plans to include you ?? Oh boy !!
Keep ’em coming 😉
Semper Fi
The McCain meeting was historic and didn’t go the way it seemed it was headed at that moment in that hotel room, but you will read that in the coming chapter. Thanks for the compliment too.
Semper fi,
Jim
If you felt overwhelmed with what you were expected to do an hour before you met McCain, I guess you felt you just got jerked aloft by a tornado or sucked into a whirl pool.
You thought Mary was unhappy about your sudden trip to DC, that was nothing compared to what she is going to think about McCain’s idea.
I have to have those books as well as next week’s revelations. Thank you for telling your story and your care of the Veterans. I am happy that somehow you survived the experience with your family intact though your body is surely a wreck.
The survival thing, through it all, has been pretty miraculous really. I do not overlook the fact that I’ve had to go back and start again about my religious beliefs because it simply doesn’t seem possible that I made it this far without some kind of divine intervention here and there. thanks for the meaningful and pointed comment and for the compliment too.
Semper fi,
Jim