The Chameleon Soldier: NOW AS AN ALIEN BLUE HE CANNOT DIE. (10 page)

“Jesus, it’s good to see you, Killian! It’s been over five years and look at you, I’ll be damned if you don’t look the same.”

Killian laughed. “What’d you expect? You know I’m sort of frozen in time.”

“That you are.” Kip patted Killian on the back. “Damn, it’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too, Kip. I don’t have many friends.”

“Many?” grinned Kip.

“Well,” laughed Killian, “one.”

“Yes, but one good one. Come on, let’s get you checked in, and have some lunch.”

They entered the hotel lobby, and walked over to the main desk. Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting in the hotel restaurant on K Street. They ordered a drink.

Killian looked around the room. “Kip, this hotel’s pretty fancy for a guy like me. I’d be just fine at a smaller hotel.”

“You’re right; it is a first class hotel. In fact, President Truman said this is the ‘second best address in America, right after the White House.” They both laughed. “Killian, you deserve the best for all you’ve done for your country. Hell, the government should be footing the bill. Hey, come to think of it, they are because I’m putting this on my expense account.”

They both laughed again. The waiter came to their table and set down their drinks.

“Here’s to you, Killian.”

They touched glasses.

“And to you, Kip.”

They drank and sat in silence for a few moments.

“So you made it as a congressman. It’s what you wanted, and I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Killian, but I’m proud of all the good things you’ve done. Christ, you’re the all-American soldier.”

“Good God, Kip, listen to us, we sound like some back-patting admiration group.”

They were chuckling as the waiter came over to take their lunch order.

“Killian, all I do now is attend meetings, sit on boring committees and write letters. It isn’t all that exciting. But I’m anxious to hear what you have been doing.”

Killian explained how Kip’s brooding on concerns over the plight of the Indians, and their mistreatment had gotten him to go to Arizona to see for himself. He told Kip how terrible it was, and about his encounters with the two Blues. He asked Kip if anything was being done about the boarding schools.

“Not enough! However, we do have the National Congress of American Indians. It was founded in 1944, in response to the termination and assimilation policies the United States government was forcing upon the tribes in contradiction of their treaty rights. The goals of the NCAI were, and are, to enforce Indians’ rights under the constitution, and to expand and improve education, settle claims equitably, and preserve Indian cultural values.”

“And how’s it working out?”

“The NCAI is doing good work, but things could be better.”

Killian nodded. Then he told Kip about his looking for Lupan, and about his experiences in the Korean War.

“God Killian, how do you do it? Year after year, war after war, if I were to write a book about you, no one would believe it.”

“Why would they? It’s something beyond the realm of the possible as comprehended by most people. And yet, there are a great number of alien Blues walking around this place we call earth.”

“Do you really believe that, Killian?”

“I do. I’ve seen them, and many times I’ve felt Blues in my presence.”

The waiter set down their lunch, and they began to eat.

“What now, Killian?” Kip asked. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure.”

Kip laughed. “Hell, you’re one hundred and twenty-one years old. You should know what to do.”

“Yeah, I should. And I should have had a birthday party a couple of months ago.”

“Well, I could have a belated party for you, but I’d have a problem, Killian.”

“What problem?”

“What the heck would I put on top of the cake for candles, a flamethrower, and then pull the trigger?”

They laughed, touched glasses, and finished their drinks. Kip waved to the waiter to bring another round.

“Killian, over the past two years, I’ve been thinking about you and your situation. Your secret is going to be found out, especially if you keep going back to the dude ranch.”

Killian nodded in agreement.

Kip continued. “The younger Freeman children are not going to understand why you never seem to age. The word is going to get out. People are going to learn about you, and sooner or later the government is going to get involved.”

“I know, Kip. I have thought about it.”

“Killian, over the past few months I’ve gotten involved with the Armed Forces committee.”

“Do you have a special reason for getting involved?”

“Yes. It’s about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Like I say, over the past few months I’ve often thought about your situation. I’ve been looking for a career where you’d be able to use your fantastic skills, yet conceal your identity, and earn a great living.”

Killian grinned. “Sounds like the impossible. That would be some career.”

“I don’t think it’s impossible, my friend.”

“Kip, how could it not be? What could I do?”

“Through the Armed Forces committee, and other sources I’ve learned about the special divisions within the CIA. One of them is the Special Activities Division. Within the division is the SOG, which stands for Specialized Skilled Officers. It is the most secretive special operation in the US, and deals in clandestine and covert operations. Most operations are handled by officers selected from special operation forces. However, I have learned some individuals or groups are chosen secretly, and not put on the government payroll. They’re paid out of trusts and private funding.”

Killian pursed his lips.

“So, what do you think, Killian?”

“I think we need to spend a lot more time talking about it. But right now, I don’t want to think about those things. How about we do the town tonight?”

Kip chuckled. “You’re right. You need to relax and enjoy yourself.”

Over the following three days Killian became a tourist. He visited the Lincoln Memorial, the White House, the Smithsonian, Arlington Cemetery, and the Washington Monument, which at five hundred and fifty-five feet is the world’s tallest stone structure.

Killian thoroughly enjoyed his few days of sightseeing leisure. In the evenings, he and Kip went to fine restaurants for dinner, attended plays or hit the popular night clubs in town. They had one heck of a good time.

On the fifth morning, Killian and Kip were having breakfast at the hotel restaurant.

“Kip, I’ve been thinking over what you said about my needing to separate my ties to the KF Dude Ranch. I agree with you. The situation is too dangerous for me. Sooner or later, someone is going to get wise to me, or one of the younger Freeman children will tell someone about their uncle Killian, who never ages.”

“I’m glad you agree, Killian.”

“However, I’d like to go back one more time. I want to see Peter, Tillie, Jacob and Rosita. They’re now in their late seventies. If I wait a few years I may never see them again. Plus, I’d like to see the ranch, and spend a day riding the trails.”

“I understand,” said Kip.

“And, Kip, I’d like you to go with me.”

Kip thought about it, “Why not? It’ll be good for me to get away from the city, and politics for a few days.”

The next morning they were on a plane to El Paso, Texas. During the flight they discussed the things Killian needed to do while in El Paso. First, he needed to set up a financial plan for the ranch, and decide what to do with the profits on his fifty-one per cent ownership. Secondly, he needed to inform the Freemans that he was going on a special mission, and would be out of the country for a few years.

Upon landing, they rented a car, and drove over to Crossland and Sons accounting firm. Years ago, when Killian had decided to give the Freeman family forty-nine per cent ownership of the ranch, he had hired Gary Crossland, a CPA, to handle the ranch’s yearly taxes, and other related matters. Now Killian had decided to make some changes in the way his profits were to be distributed.

When they pulled up in front of the ranch’s hotel, the Freemans assumed they were new customers. The younger Freemans, who took their bags from the car, didn’t recognize them. But, when they entered the lobby the faces of the older Freemans beamed, and there were delighted screams and laughter. They surrounded Kip and Killian, shook their hands and hugged them. The word spread, and more and more of the Freeman family showed up. The lobby became almost like a party. That evening there was a special barbecue, with music, singing and dancing.

The following day Killian and Kip took a long ride along the miles of trails that crisscrossed the ranch. Killian wallowed in the beautiful landscape he knew so well. His mind wandered back to when he was a boy, working their small plot of land with his father. He thought of his mother, and when he had first hired Chester Freeman. He thought of the day they had bought the horses from the 1st Cavalry at Fort Bliss, and when the soldiers, like Kip, had come back from the war to reclaim their old mounts.

They stopped by a small pond, dismounted to stretch their legs, and let the horses drink the cool water. Killian stood and silently looked around him.

Kip noticed sadness in his friend. “You’re going to miss the ranch, aren’t you?”

“Yes. In the past, every time I left, I knew I’d be returning, but not this time.”

“It’s not forever, Killian. Some day you will return.”

“What makes you say that? We’ve agreed I shouldn’t return.”

“No, not in the near future, but you’re going to live for a long time. It’s sad that the older Freemans will die, and you’ll never see them again. However, years from now you could return, maybe pretending to be your own son, the heir to your ranch.”

Killian thought about it. “That’s a strange scenario, Kip. I’m not sure I like it.”

“I’m sorry, but it could happen.”

“It would be weird, my friend.”

“But you don’t have to give up your ranch; you just can’t live here all the time.”

“Many people wish they could live forever, Kip. But, in a way, it’s a curse.”

They mounted their horses, and rode back to the ranch. In the evening after dinner, and when the small Freeman children were put to bed, Kip, Killian and the Freeman adults sat outside on the large verandah.

“It’s been wonderful coming back and seeing all of you,” Killian told them. “I’ve missed you very much. I’m glad to see you’re all so happy and doing well. I wish we could stay longer, but Kip and I must leave in the morning.”

“Oh, not so soon, Killian, you just got here,” said Tillie.

“It’s important that we leave. I only came to see you, and take care of some business. When we arrived we went to see Mr. Crossland, the ranch’s CPA. I made changes to what’s to happen to the profits of my fifty-one per cent ownership of the ranch. Starting next month, one third of my profit will be put in a reserve fund for the ranch. It will be used for emergencies, to help keep the ranch in good repair. Then one third will be donated to the NCAI, which is the National Congress of American Indians. Kip and I both want to help the Indian nation. We’re very disturbed with their plight, especially over what has happened at the government’s boarding schools. The last third of my profits will put in a savings account for me by the Crossland firm.”

“Killian, you have always been a generous man. It’s good of you to give money to the Indians and to put funds in reserve for the preservation of the ranch, but we’ll be sad to see you leave,” said Peter.

He and other members of the family stood up, came over to Killian and hugged him. There were tears in everyone’s eyes.

Early the next morning, after breakfast, Killian handed Peter the title to his 1940 Chevy pickup.

“Take good care of my truck, Peter. It’s been good to me over the years.”

Kip and Killian left for the airport.

A short time later, they were onboard a plane heading for Washington, D.C. As they sipped on cocktails, they discussed the possibility of Killian getting involved with the CIA’s Special Operations Group.

“Killian, are you one hundred per cent sure you want me to meet with the CIA’s Deputy Director of Plans, William Spencer, who’s the head of the Specialized Skilled Officers unit?”

“Kip, it seems to fit what I’m best at doing. You know I want to serve my country.”

Kip didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. “There is something we haven’t discussed.”

Killian turned in his seat and faced his friend. “What?”

“Once I’ve talked to Director Spencer and discussed with him the possibility of his engaging the group we’ve fabricated, and he agrees to do so, then our present friendship, to a large degree, will be curtailed.”

“Why?”

“Because, Killian, as soon as I strike an agreement with them on your behalf I will be under constant surveillance. Remember, part of our deal with them is that they won’t have any contact with you. Their only contact will be through me. I know them. They’re going to try to find out who I’m dealing with.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t thought about that. They’re going to be watching you like a hawk.”

“That’s for damn sure. They’ll bug my phone, office, apartment, car and anything else that might lead them to you, or I should say the group we’ve invented.”

For a short time they lapsed into silence.

“So have you come up with a way for us to communicate?” asked Killian.

“Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about it. I may have the answer.”

“Okay. What is it?”

“Well, Director Spencer is friends with my parents and my grandfather. He’d never suspect either of them of helping me to conceal your identity. You need a place to live, and you’re very good with horses. You’ll live at my grandfather’s ranch in Virginia, and be a part-time trainer for his racehorses. The old man will get a kick out of being involved in the security of our mission. I go home to Virginia quite often, now more than ever, since I met a woman who’s the daughter of one of our neighbors.”

Killian looked at him. They both smiled.

“You didn’t tell me about her, Kip. Is it serious?”

“It’s leaning that way.”