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Authors: Tom Wallace

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She removed the first letter, laid the rest of the papers on the desk, and began reading.

THE WHITE HOUSE

Washington, D.C.

March 3, 1968

Dear Mickey,

   Lucas White recently informed me that you have agreed to join us in our new project. I’m delighted. I don’t think he could have made a better choice. Your skills, your dedication to the cause of this great nation of ours, and your good work in the past are well-documented and appreciated. I am excited about the task we are undertaking. It is my firm belief that in today’s world there exists a need for what we are doing. These perilous times demand extraordinary action. The project you and Lucas are overseeing will help us maintain the strength to continue as a beacon of freedom and hope in the world.

I have made a firm commitment to the task at hand, and have full confidence that it will be successful.

Congratulations on your recent promotion to the rank of major. It is well-deserved.

   LBJ

Kate read the letter again, slowly this time, finally letting her eyes come to rest on the scribbled initials near the bottom of the page. LBJ.
Lyndon Baines Johnson
, for christsakes. Only then did she make the connection—a long-gone president and Professor Michael Collins.

But what was the connection? When? At what point in time could the paths of these two men have possibly crossed? In what way? For what reasons? Her curiosity now in high gear, she dove deeper into the folder, holding her breath like a scholar who had directly stumbled onto a rare and ancient manuscript.

On top were twelve color photographs, two close-up face shots for each of six men. She thumbed through them quickly, looking for a picture of Collins. There weren’t any. Beneath the photos were more letters and other official-looking forms. She removed the clip holding them together, took the first letter, and began reading.

May 1, 1968

Mick:

I was happy to hear that the laborious task of interviewing potential candidates is nearly completed. As I told you in our Tuesday phone conversation, Rear Admiral Cunningham is sending three Seals he thinks can be of help. I trust you will judge their merits before making your final decision.

Plans here in Washington are being finalized. We will set up shop at Aberdeen Proving Grounds. Several alternate sites were proposed, but APG seems the most logical. Have you decided how many candidates will be needed? My feeling is no more than twenty. Of course, in that matter I will yield to your wishes. I should be finished here NLT Sunday, which means I’ll be available to help in the selection process should I be needed.

Please keep me apprised of the situation. I look forward to rejoining you soon.

Lucas

June 24, 1968

Mick:

Your list of thirteen looks good to me. I was particularly pleased to see that you included one of Cunningham’s men. That should make him happy, and keep him off my back. Whether we like to admit it or not, politics are always present, even in a project such as this.

Teach them well.

Lucas

July 2, 1968

Mick:

Orders are being cut at this moment for your return to Vietnam. You should have them by Friday. Sorry we had to rush things, but recent events have put a sense of urgency on everything. People are running around the War Room with blood in their eyes.

I’m sure you will be more than happy to return to those God-forsaken jungles. As for me, I have mixed emotions. When I think I fought alongside your father and will now be fighting alongside you, well, you can imagine how old that makes me feel. I’m not sure war is for old men. But duty calls, so you’ll be seeing my smiling face more than you care to.

One other matter. Some are wondering if six men are enough. Are you positive that’s all you’ll need? Remember, even our Savior needed twelve. Give this matter some consideration. If you are comfortable with six, we’ll proceed as planned. Please advise.

Lucas

January 25, 1969

Mick:

Just finished briefing Nixon’s people. They appear to be even more enthusiastic about the project than their predecessors were. I have a feeling the kind of work we’re doing is right up their alley. They seem to have a thirst for blood that many in LBJ’s crowd lacked. RN, the “Dark Prince,” is a man I’ve known for almost two decades, since he was a congressman. I’ve never much cared for the man, and I wouldn’t trust him under any set of circumstances. Having said that, I can’t argue with the enthusiasm he and his fellow henchmen showed when informed of this project. It almost rivaled that of the Kennedy brothers, and God knows JFK and Bobby certainly had an affinity for wet ops. As I have learned after many years in this business, you dance with certain devils in order to kill other devils.

I’ll see you in about a month.

Lucas

August 10, 1970

Mick:

Everyone here is raving about the success of Operation Clean Sweep. One CIA big shot called it state of the art. Jolly good show. The green light has been given for Operation Silent Night. It is my understanding that you plan to proceed within the next three weeks.

Keep me advised, and let me know if there is anything you or your men need. Lucas

P.S. As for that other matter, it is still under consideration.

March 3, 1971

Mick:

I have passed along your blueprint for Operation Fallen Angels. It is being met with near-unanimous approval. I must add, however, that I have some reservations, which I shall discuss with you in detail at a later date.

I ran into your father yesterday. He is doing well and sends his love.

Lucas

January 13,1972

Mick:

It is my understanding that Ted Shackley has informed you that Operation Fallen Angels is off. I’m sure he also informed you that I had the deciding vote and that I cast mine against proceeding. No doubt you are steaming—I know you well enough to know that.

My vote was cast not so much against the mission, but rather in consideration of your safety. I cannot convince myself that it’s anything less than a suicide mission. I simply don’t see how you and your men can get into Hanoi, do what needs to be done, then get out safely. And the logistics trouble me. How would you get to Hanoi in the first place? Up from the South, down from the North, from the West?

BOOK: Heirs of Cain
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