CHAPTER 75
“Hello, Frank? Ed Johns here.”
“What can I do for you?”
The Brigadier General Johns played with his letter opener. A slim, nasty little bit of work. Chinese steel, rough sharpened, pencil thin. As much chance as skill that it had finally landed in the belly of the Viet Cong who’d jumped him instead of his own.
“We go back a long way, right?”
A pause.
“Embassy gates in ’75. What’s up?”
Hell of a place. Choosing who passed through the gates and had a chance at life, and who stayed to be “reeducated.” It wasn’t the sort of thing you brought up. Not at parties, not with your family, not in the quiet backwaters of a late night watch. It wasn’t something you mentioned unless you were calling in a favor, a damn big one.
“I need something answered straight and plain. You got peo
