by Joe Weber
"Wait a second," Palmer said, turning serious. "I don't know what's up, but a Lieutenant Colonel Chastain has been trying to locate you since yesterday. The guy has called almost every hour."
Puzzled, Brad looked at Palmer for a moment. "I've never heard of him. Did he leave a number?"
"He sure did," Palmer responded with an emphasis on the word sure. "Every single time, as far as I know, including his home phone. They've got it over at admissions. Says he's calling on behalf of Senator Kerwin."
The senator had contacted Leigh Ann the day before she had left Memphis.
"Brad," Leigh Ann said in a small voice, "I need to tell you something."
He looked at her suspiciously. "What?"
Hutton and Palmer looked up expectantly.
"I had been worried about you, and the possibility of a court-martial when you are really a hero, so I talked to a friend of the family--"
"Court-martial?" Nick interrupted, thoroughly confused. "What court-martial?"
"Nick," Brad said, trying to find out what Leigh Ann had done, "Harry can fill you in on the details."
Turning back to Leigh Ann, Brad spoke in a measured voice. "Whom did you talk to?"
She looked toward the ceiling, then back to Brad. "Senator Kerwin."
"No shit," Harry exclaimed, quickly adding to Leigh Ann, "excuse me."
Stupefied, Brad considered the implications. "Arlin Kerwin, the head of the Senate Armed Services Committee? You talked to him?"
"Yes," she answered, feeling a sudden chill. "I wanted to help you. I was so worried, and I didn't know to whom to turn."
Brad collected his thoughts. "Leigh Ann, it was supposed to be confidential, and anyway the matter has been dismissed. It's history, and everything is okay."
Palmer was growing more inquisitive. "What is going on?" Clearly irritated, Brad looked at Hutton. "It's a military secret. Harry, keep them amused until after I make this call."
Ashen faced, Brad rejoined his friends. "Well, folks, I've been invited to a hearing in Washington."
Leigh Ann cringed. "I'm sorry. I was . . . ," she cast her head down.
Brad put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to him. "I guess you blew it, but how could you know? It's okay. It really is. I have been asked--ordered, actually--to attend a hearing concerning what we were told never happened at Phuc Yen." Austin exhaled, then shook his head. "So, it's time for another rug dance."
"Are we in the frying pan again?" Harry asked, changing his words out of respect for the lady who was present.
"I don't know anything at this point, except that I've got to report to Colonel Chastain tomorrow afternoon." Brad hugged Leigh Ann in an attempt to reassure her. "I'm supposed to catch a flight out of North Island this evening."
Taking a deep breath, Leigh Ann looked up at Brad. "I want to go with you. Please."
"Okay," Brad replied without hesitation. "I'll let them know that I'm going to fly commercially."
Harry frowned. "You better watch your six."
Brad nodded and faced Leigh Ann. "Where are you staying?" "In a motel near here, and I've got a rental car."
"Okay," Brad replied with a smile, "we'll grab your luggage, check out, and head for the airport."
Brad turned to Hutton. "Harry, will you call North Island, and let them know that I'm taking an airliner to Washington?" "Sure," he grinned. "Give 'em hell."
"Yeah," Brad chuckled. "What can they do? Make me a captain and send me to Yankee Station? You guys take care of each other."
WASHINGTON, D. C.
After the long flight, Brad and Leigh Ann checked into the Hotel Washington. They ate a late dinner, followed by a nightcap in the quiet cocktail lounge. Their relationship was on solid footing again, but the stress and uncertainty of Brad's difficult situation dulled the elation.
Exhausted by the tedious trip from San Diego, Leigh Ann and Brad succumbed to their weariness shortly after midnight. Collapsing on the ornate bed, they held each other, then fell asleep with Leigh Ann's head on Brad's chest.
After breakfast in the hotel restaurant, Brad and Leigh Ann walked down Pennsylvania Avenue to the White House.
Instead of experiencing pride, Brad had a gnawing feeling inside. His anguish was fueled by a mixture of sadness and loathing. The decisions that were being made in that building were causing untold lives to be lost in a protracted, senseless strategy of slow escalation.
He steered Leigh Ann back past the Treasury Building, crossing the street to enter Sherman Park.
"Brad," Leigh Ann said as they crossed another street and walked into Pershing Park, "what do you think will happen in the meeting?"
"Hearing," Brad squeezed her hand affectionately. "This is not a good-old-boy town meeting."
She tugged on his arm. "Okay, hearing. Will you be in any jeopardy?"
Brad thought about the various possibilities. "The way I understand this, your friend Senator Kerwin is basically using me as the kindling to start a roaring blaze."
Leigh Ann pulled Brad to a halt. "What do you mean? Arlin Kerwin is one of the most respected politicians in Washington. I don't think he would do anything to hurt you . . . or me."
"Leigh Ann," Brad replied, taking both of her hands. "My handler, the lieutenant colonel I called from San Diego, couldn't say much over an open phone line, but he painted a clear picture for me."
"What did he tell you?" Leigh Ann asked, motioning toward a park bench.
"I don't know the whole story," Brad answered, sitting beside Leigh Ann. "Apparently, there has been a lot of feuding between Capitol Hill and the White House about the direction the war has taken.
"It seems as if," he continued, lowering his voice as a couple walked past, "certain individuals, including Senator Kerwin, have been waiting for an opportunity to catch the administration with their shorts down."
"Brad, I am really sorry for getting you into this. I didn't know that everything had worked out so well for you and Harry."
Brad smiled and put his arm around her. "I told you not to worry. My incident, and the subsequent cover-up, is the catalyst Kerwin has been waiting for. If, in some small way, I can help expose the madness in the White House, the better off we'll all be."
Brad chuckled and shook his head. "Believe me, when Kerwin starts digging, he won't quit until he has all the answers, or he surfaces in China."
"That's what bothers me," Leigh Ann said with a hint of sadness. "I don't want to see you used, then discarded."
Leaning over, Brad tilted Leigh Ann's chin up and lightly kissed her. "Let's have some lunch before I have to report to the colonel."
***
Brad paid the taxi driver, then walked into the hotel lobby. Leigh Ann was sitting in a chair, looking radiant in a beige dress with brown accessories.
"How did it go?" she asked, rising to greet him.
"Fine. The colonel is a nice guy, and we had a cordial chat. He told me when and where I have to be tomorrow, then encouraged me to hold my ground and tell it like I see it."
"Is he going to be there with you?"
Brad gave Leigh Ann a wry smile. "I don't think so. I would imagine that anyone remotely connected with me will be hunkered down in a bunker tomorrow."
Leigh Ann impulsively kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be there."_
Brad laughed out loud.
"What's so funny?"
"Ah . . . I'm not sure I can withstand any more of your help." Leigh Ann looked hurt.
"I'm kidding . . . just a little humor."
She gave him a thin smile. "I am sorry, and I'd like to make it up to you. How about if I take you to dinner?"
Brad cocked his head. "You're going to take me out for dinner?"
"That's right, flyboy," she said with a look of determination. "I learned a lot about being independent from a guy I once met in Hawaii."
Brad raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?"
"Yes," she smiled demurely, "and afterward, I have a stimulating evening planned."
Chapter 44.
Brad donned his tunic and adjusted his tie, then glanced at his watch for the fourth time in ten minutes. He dreaded the next few hours more than he had ever feared anything.
Turning, he saw Leigh Ann smooth her conservative suit. She, too, looked nervous. How different from the sensuous, confident woman he had known in bed.
"Leigh Ann, you don't have to attend this hearing. It's closed door, and you may have to sit outside for who knows how long."
She walked to Brad, then kissed him, careful not to disturb his uniform. "I happen to be in love with you, and I want to be by your side, or as close as possible."
"Okay," Brad replied, looking at his watch. "It's time to go to the gallows."
Arriving fifteen minutes early, Brad and Leigh Ann walked up the steps to the imposing building. After Austin identified himself, he and Leigh Ann were allowed to go to the area outside of the room where the hearing would take place.
They took seats outside the room, and silently watched a number of people shuffle in and out of the hearing chamber.
Brad started to speak to Leigh Ann, then stopped abruptly. Ogilvie, from the State Department, accompanied by Captain Emmett from CINCPAC were approaching them.
"Great," Brad said quietly to Leigh Ann, "here come the two sweethearts who grilled me on the ship."
"Who are they?"
"I'll tell you later."
Emmett sat down without acknowledging Austin, while Ogilvie, wearing the same rumpled suit he had worn on the carrier, walked toward the couple. Brad rose to face him.
"Captain," Ogilvie said testily, "you've opened a real can of worms, and you're going to rue the day you blew the whistle."
Bristling, Brad thrust out his jaw but refrained from replying. Ogilvie spun around and rejoined Emmett.
Precisely at 10 A. M., the doors were closed. The waiting area became as quiet as a tomb. Ten minutes later, Brad was called into the hearing.
Ushered to a long table, Brad stated his full name, then remained standing and swore to tell the truth and nothing but the truth. He observed Arlin Kerwin, who reminded him of a simpleminded country humorist he had seen on television. Appearances, Brad thought, can be deceiving.
"Son," Kerwin said in a friendly, fatherly manner, "we're here today to establish exactly what happened at Phuc Yen, and why there is an ongoing attempt to conceal what happened."
Brad silently nodded.
"There aren't any members of the service present," Kerwin continued in a congenial tone, "so you needn't be intimidated. I want you to tell this committee precisely what happened, and what consequences you faced. We are going to get to the bottom of this matter, so don't leave anything out. I've got the dates, so just tell us the facts."
Clearing his throat, Brad fixed his eyes on the chairman of the Armed Services Committee. "Senator, I was flying as wingman in a two-plane section. We were providing combat air patrol for a strike group when we were attacked by three MiGs, one of which was flown by North Vietnam's second-leading ace, Major Nguyen Thanh Dao."
A lanky senator whom Brad recognized pointed a finger at him. "How could you tell who was flying the planes?"
Brad saw a look of irritation cross Kerwin's face, but he remained quiet.
"We had had briefs on the aircraft markings of various North Vietnamese pilots. Major Dao's aircraft was readily distinguishable by the white stripe on the tail, and the seven red stars on the fuselage, signifying seven American aircraft shot down. Plus, you could tell by the way he handled his aircraft. He was definitely one of the better pilots."
"Continue, Captain," Kerwin said, glancing at the tall senator.
Brad swallowed. "We engaged the MiGs, and during the battle, Major Dao shot down my flight leader, Lieutenant Commander Lincoln Durham. I was initially stunned, then outraged." Brad paused, carefully selecting his words. "I made an instantaneous decision to pursue Major Dao and destroy his aircraft before he could land at a restricted airfield."
The contentious senator leaned next to his microphone. "Can you define restricted airfield for us?"
"Yessir, to the best of my understanding of the rules of engagement on that particular date."
Brad sensed the members of the committee staring at him. "If we were engaged in battle, we could overfly an off-limits airfield. However, we were not authorized to attack the airfield or the aircraft on the ground."
Kerwin wrote a note. "Please proceed."
Taking a deep breath, Brad concentrated on Kerwin. "I shot down Major Dao over the airfield at Phuc Yen, a designated off-limits airfield, and proceeded to destroy a MiG on the ground. I violated a restriction and did not report the fact."
The tall senator's eyes narrowed. "Why did you think that you had the authority to operate like a loose cannon?"
A hush settled over the large room.
"I didn't feel that I had the authority to operate on my own." Brad was boiling inside but showed little outwardly. "In the heat of battle, with my life on the line and my adrenaline pumping, I fired a missile at a MiG taxiing for takeoff without analyzing the ramifications of my actions."
"Perhaps, Captain Austin," the combative lawmaker said in a surly manner, "you should seek some other profession that will allow you the time to think before you act."
Kerwin responded before Brad could form a civilized answer. "We are not here to discuss Captain Austin's qualifications, or question his actions. He has demonstrated his capabilities by destroying three MiGs. I think that tells it all."
Brad was surprised that the chairman knew about all three MiGs, then realized that the senator probably knew his life history. "What we are trying to do," Kerwin continued, "is find out why his actions were censored.
"Then what happened, Captain?" the chairman asked, removing his glasses.
"After what I had done had been revealed, I was confined to quarters, along with my backseat radar operator. We were informed that an investigation would take place."
Kerwin replaced his glasses. "And did an investigation take place?"
"Yes, Senator. On board the ship."
"And what was the outcome?"
Brad steeled himself. "We were informed that we would not be court-martialed and that the matter was being shelved."
Kerwin leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. "What were you told, and who told you?"
"We were informed," Brad said evenly, "that the incident had never happened, and that it would be in our best interest to keep it that way."
Showing no emotion, Kerwin wrote another note. "Was there a reason given?"
"Yessir," Brad replied uncomfortably. "We were told that my incursion, if admitted, might compromise expected negotiations with the North Vietnamese."
"Who informed you of that finding?"
Brad's stomach knotted. "The State Department representative waiting outside in the hall." A murmur filled the room. Kerwin paused, consulting his notes. "A Mister Ogilvie?" "Yes, sir."
"Did he give you a reason--tell you who initiated the cover-up?"
Brad hesitated, unsure how far he should go. "Mister Ogilvie explained that the decision had originated in the White House."
Kerwin locked Brad in an unblinking stare. "Is that unconditionally true?"
"Yes, it is, Senator, to the best of my recollection. I don't remember his exact wording, but he clearly stated that the decision came from the White House." The tension in the room was palpable.
"Okay, son," Kerwin said, smiling pleasantly, "tell us about your feelings, and those of your colleagues, about how the war is progressing--how it's being managed."
Throwing caution to the wind, Brad drew a breath and placed his folded hands on the table.
"Senator, I can only speak for myself, but I'm sure that the majority of the aircrews would express the same feelings. I feel that the air war is being micromanaged to the detriment of everyone. Targets are apparently considered for the effect they will have on the media, and what the general public will think
. We are being forced to operate under restrictions and limitations that completely negate our efforts, while more aircrews are being sacrificed.
"We bomb, then back off while more restrictions are shoved down our throats. Every new sanctuary becomes a haven for North Vietnamese antiaircraft guns, surface-to-air missiles, and ground-controlled radar."
Brad slowed, keeping his emotions in check. "Senator, we have been shocked by the missions that we have been ordered to fly. It's obvious to all of the aircrews that the targets, weapons and aircraft used, and routes to and from the target areas are not being selected by military planners." The members of the committee were riveted by Brad's solemn testimony.
Brad looked from one end of the table to the other, then back to Arlin Kerwin. "Gentlemen, we are being sold down the river."
Kerwin removed his glasses and placed them in his pocket. "Captain Austin, this committee appreciates your cooperation, and your candid remarks."
Brad remained silent.
"We will take a ten-minute break," Kerwin announced, then rose, "and then reconvene."
Sliding his chair back, Brad saw the chairman approaching him. The senator motioned him to the side. "Son, I admire you for your forthrightness. You have been very helpful."
"Thank you, Senator. This has been one of the most difficult things I have ever faced."
Kerwin tilted his head and lowered his voice. "I don't want you to worry about anything. My job is to make sure that you can do your job."
"I appreciate that, Senator."
"I'll tell you something," Kerwin said with a knowing smile. "There is a young lady who thinks mighty highly of you."
Brad beamed. "The feeling is mutual, sir. She's right outside."
Kerwin's surprise showed on his face. "Is she?" He had a moment of doubt. "Well, I'm afraid, under the circumstances, that I'll just have to have you give her my best."
"I understand, sir."
Kerwin patted Brad on the shoulder. "Now, you get on out of here, and take good care of that young lady. She is a special little gal."
Brad shook Arlin Kerwin's hand. "Thank you, Senator Kerwin, on behalf of both of us."
