Fourth Attack Recon Battalion,

 Camp Humphreys, ROK

“Chief Warrant Officer Willson Spaulding reports to the battalion commander,” said Will, holding his salute until Lieutenant Colonel August Faas returned it.

A tall, black, almost gaunt man in his early forties, Faas regarded Spaulding with a mixture of surprise and skepticism.

“At ease, Spaulding,” Faas said.

A muscular man in his late twenties and of average height with blue eyes and a receding hairline, Will relaxed, still standing, with his hands clasped behind his back.

Faas said, “Who the hell are you, really?”

“I beg your pardon, sir?”

“Are you some kind of spook, here to investigate someone or something in my battalion?”

“No, sir.”

Faas fumbled on his desk and came up with a sheet of paper, which he held up in front of his face.

“This says that I’m supposed to award you the Air Medal with V for valor.”

Will remained silent.

“Well? Cat got your tongue?’

“Sorry sir, I didn’t realize that was a question.”

“The citation reads “Compartmentalized Intelligence. Need to Know Only,”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why?”

“Excuse me, sir, you’ve lost me?”

“Why is the citation classified? And why is it way above my clearance?”

“I have no idea how to answer your questions, sir.”

“Do you know why you are being awarded this medal?”

“I have some idea, sir.”

“Tell me.”

“Sir, now that I am aware that the citation is classified, I think it best that I seek guidance before I try to answer your question.”

“Guidance from whom?”

“Major General Morris Goldzweig, sir. Or Major General Jonathon Davis.”

“Davis is commanding general, Fort Rucker. Who the hell is Goldzweig?”

“Provost Marshal General of the Army, which includes the Criminal Investigation Division.”

“So you are a spook.”

“No, sir. Just a pilot, sir.”

“But you were a spook?”

“Sir, my last duty assignment was as a student pilot transitioning into the AH64 Apache Longbow. Before that, I was a student at Fort Rucker learning to fly the Kiowa Scout. Immediately after the conclusion of my training, I was ordered to accept duty as a CID investigator for an indefinite period. It turned out to be about three weeks, during which I was the lead investigator into the disappearance of three Fort Rucker aviators who were presumed dead. At the conclusion of that investigation, I returned to flight duty and was shortly thereafter went on to transition training in the Apache Longbow aircraft.”

“So you’re actually CID?”

“No, sir. As I said, I was ordered to CID duty for a brief period only.”

“You were CID before you went to warrant officer training and then to flight training?”

“No, sir.”

“I see in your records that you were awarded the Army Commendation Medal and the Soldiers Medal at the end of your eight-week basic combat training course.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well?”

“Sir, on the day that I arrived at Fort Fremont to begin basic training, I was on a detail unloading a Quartermaster boxcar. In the course of this duty, I discovered a corpse. The CID Agent-In-Charge ordered me to assist him in the investigation of this murder. I did so, and after about three weeks, it became necessary for me to save his life. That involved a brief gunfight with the individual who had kidnapped him. I was awarded the Soldiers Medal for that, and the Army Commendation Medal for my assistance in the investigation.”

“None of that makes sense. Why would a senior CID agent need a recruit to assist him? Even before you had started basic training, as it were.”

“Sir, before I enlisted, I was a detective in the Barstow, California, Police Department. And before that, a patrolman. And before that, I earned a BS in Police Science and Criminal Law. I enlisted because my father was an Army helicopter pilot—he died in Desert Storm. My grandfather flew Hueys in Vietnam, and my great-grandfather flew Grumman Wildcats and Bearcats off USS Enterprise during World War II.”

His mouth open, Faas stared at Spaulding for almost a minute.

“Spaulding, how is it that you were promoted to W-2 more than a year earlier than regulations specify?”

“General Davis decided that I had demonstrated sufficient capabilities both as an aviator and in leadership for him to request a waiver from the Department of the Army. The Secretary of the Army agreed, I guess.”

“So, you are here to fly, and nothing more?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m going to send a classified message to your General Goldzweig and ask him to confirm what you just told me. And to explain why your Air Medal citation is classified.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you are here to poke around in my outfit looking for dirt, I will transfer you out of here so fast it will make your head swim,” Faas said.

“Sir, I am here to fly. I enlisted in the hope of flying, as did my father, my grandfather, and my great-grandfather. I do not expect that I will be asked to conduct an investigation again, but if I do, you will be first to know of it.”

“Another thing, Spaulding. I’m also supposed to award you the Distinguished Flying Cross, and I have read that citation three times and do not understand how you are still alive or why you are still on flight duty.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I think that you might have a death wish. I will not have a pilot with a death wish. If I get any indication that you are going to foolishly risk a multi-million-dollar aircraft, I will ground you immediately. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you know why you weren’t grounded?”

“Yes, sir. A board of inquiry was convened—five O-6 colonels, all master aviators. Two voted to ground me. Two voted to exonerate me and recommended an award. The president of the board abstained and kicked the issue up to Major General Davis, who recommended me for the DFC, and put me in charge of finding the missing aviators.”

“I assume they were found alive, and that is reflected in the third medal that I’m supposed to pin on your chest. But I have to say, Spaulding, that I’ve never known anyone below field grade rank to receive the Legion of Merit. I have read the citation, however, and I concur with the award. Which puts me in a very awkward position, do you see that?”

“No, sir, I don’t. I don’t mean to be obtuse, but what is awkward about your position?

“Spaulding. On the one hand, I see a young man with a lot of guts—maybe too many—and unusual leadership skills. I see a man capable of carrying out a highly complex criminal investigation with minimal supervision. I see a man who might be yanked out of my command at any time to conduct another investigation. I’m not sure I should keep you and have my officers invest in your training as an attack helicopter pilot because I could lose you the next time General Goldzweig decides that he wants you on a case.

“I understand, sir. I hope that you can also see a man who yearns with all his soul to serve as an aviator. I am here to fly. Also, my fiancé is stationed at Yongsan in Seoul. I requested this assignment so that we might see each other once in a while.”

“It will be only once in a while,” Faas said. “The peninsula remains in a state of heightened alert. We could go to war tomorrow or next week. All my pilots are usually on some condition of standby. Most of the time we have to be in the air within two hours of an alert.”

“Sir, would that preclude my fiancée from coming here from time to time for a visit?”

“Not if she has the correct security clearance. She’s a nurse?”

“No, sir. She’s the Special Agent-in-Charge of the Yongsan CID office.”

“Another spook! I like this less and less.”

“Yes, sir. You can order me not to see her, but Agent Shapiro’s credentials specify that she can enter any building on any installation.”

“Far be it from me to interfere with your love life, Spaulding. Just do your job and we will all be happy.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m still going to message General Goldzweig. Dismissed.”

Spaulding came to attention, saluted, and then did an about-face and left the office.

When the door closed behind him, Faas picked up the phone on his desk.

“Claudia, get me Major General Jonathan Davis at Fort Rucker. If he’s not in his office, ask to have him call me back on a secure line at any hour.”