“Well, you can hardly stay on here, now can you?”
“What would you have done in my situation, Sir?” Jason asked, his eyes filled with tears.
Commander Gates looked at Jason and softened slightly. “Well...” He paused and exhaled. “I wouldn’t have put three MPs in hospital.”
“Sir, I couldn’t see. They threw dirt in my eyes. They were calling Yankee racist names and wanted him to wipe spit off this bullies boot. It was Cowboy that stopped that, then he got hit for helping and was about to get kicked. I was just defending Cowboy and myself. Should I have let them kick Cowboy and let Yankee, a Quentin Roosevelt Military Academy cadet no less, wipe spit off another cadets boot just because of his skin color?” Jason stopped himself. He was brimming with emotion. The last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of the commander. He took a deep breath.
“Please sir, what should I have done?” he asked again.
“Well ah...” The commander stuttered and placed his pipe in his mouth. “It’s irrelevant now. What’s done is done. Until I decide what to do, you will be confined to your room.” He paused and looked at Corporal Jones. “His roommate can fetch his dinner. For now, he leaves him room just to use the bathroom. That will be all for now gentlemen.”
*
QRMA’s officers and training instructors put their heads together and decided that Jason and his group of friends needed a sharp reminder about the importance of discipline. The reminder would take the form of two-day hike across South Dakota’s countryside, led by the notorious Corporal Armstrong. All QRMA instructors were tough, but Armstrong was the worst because he got a huge kick out of making students suffer.
All four boys were dropped off the back of a truck just before dawn and Armstrong gleefully announced that they each had to carry a twenty-five pound weight, on top of the tent, utensils, drinking water, and clothing already crammed inside their backpacks.
Despite all four boys being fit, they found the punishment hell. Armstrong, who drove in a Jeep, kept reminding them that a student could quit at anytime. They knew if they wanted to graduate they had to get through it. A ruthless instructor who didn't care if you’re crying, injured, or sick pushed your body and brain to breaking point. All he cared about was toughening up the students so they could cope with all the bad stuff that might happen in the military. When it was punishment they made it extra hard.
The two-day course chosen would normally be tackled in three days. To do it in two they had to forgo sleep one of the nights. They arrived back at the academy two days later exhausted with blister-covered feet and hungry.
“Took you four men long enough to get back here. Jason, you're still confined to your room,” Armstrong ordered. The boys were tired, but being called men by Armstrong lifted their spirits. Jason stood in the shower, trying to refresh and refocus. It took a minute for the water to heat up, but as soon as it did, Jason wished he never had to leave. By the time Tex and the others had eaten and brought food back, he was in his bunk asleep.
For two more days Jason stayed in his room. He ventured out into the corridor only to use the bathroom or shower. He did go to the end of the corridor to use the phone to call Scott but never went through with the call. He didn’t think he could bring himself to say the actual words he was getting expelled from the academy. Just thinking about it and the shame it would bring to his father put him off the idea.
He was working out in the bedroom, push-ups, karate forms, and sit-ups when someone knocked at the door.
“Come in, it’s not locked.” Jason panted. He was doing stretching exercises, his right leg was held straight up, with his knee almost touching his face. Jason looked as the door opened. A slim man with dark hair stepped in. Jason recognized him. The weirdo from the dinner, Jason said to himself he immediately lowered his leg and faced the man.
“I like girls,” Jason said, although as soon as he’d said it he thought how stupid he must have sounded. The man looked at him and smiled.
“Good. But why is that relevant now?” The man grinned. Jason studied him, He was about thirty. He looked fit, with dark hair and large brown watchful eyes. Maybe even good-looking Jason thought.
“Cause you’re a Willy watcher?” Jason said in way that sounded like a question.
“Ha ha. Whatever gave you that idea Jason?” The man laughed.
“You were watching me at the diner. Then when I went to use the bathroom you got up and followed. I never went in and waited. When I tried again you went in again. What were you hoping to see?”
“Oh, I see and you think that I wanted to...” He paused. “No, that was the furthest thing on my mind. If I made you feel uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”
“You come any closer and I’ll make you sorry,” Jason said still not trusting the stranger.
“So you're the famous Jason Steed. Born March 24, 1963 in Hong Kong. Your mother was a Scottish champion athlete and an Olympic bronze medal winner. Your father is English and serves in the Royal Navy. An IRA bomb killed his parents just over a year before you were born. You’re a third Dan black belt in Taekwondo, and you hold black belts in Judo and other forms, plus you’ve also studied Jiu Jitsu. You are the youngest person to receive the Queen's Award for Bravery and the Victoria Cross. And probably the youngest in Europe to hold a pilot's license. You have worked with various intelligence agencies on missions.” He smiled at Jason and continued. “Plus, you are very close friends to the Queen's youngest daughter, Princess Catherine, and you have a vicious temper that you can’t control. Shall I go on?”
“If you know so much about me, when did I last take a pee?” Jason asked.
The man laughed and extended his hand to Jason, who reluctantly shook it. “You’re much smaller than I expected, Jason, but I guess you are only twelve. Let me introduce myself. I’m Max Fisher I work for D.O.D.”
“D.O.D., what’s that? Dumbasses On Drugs? What do you want?” Jason asked.
Max grinned at Jason’s remark.
“That’s a good one Jason, but it actually stands for Department of Defense.”
“So, why do you know so much about me? I told the general I was defending Cowboy and I didn’t know it was the MPs I was hitting. They threw dirt in my eyes. I don’t want to get expelled. You don’t know what it’s like not having a mum, a real family. My father is always away at sea. I love it here at the academy. Why does the dodos have to get involved? I really want to stay here.”
“It’s D.O.D., Jason, and this has nothing to do with the brawl you got into at Camp Pendleton, although that has caused enough problems. Didn’t they tell you in Britain you would be contacted over here?”
“Yes but I thought by a...” Jason paused. “Em, No.” Jason was unsure what to say. He assumed he would be making contact with British intelligence. He scratched his head and sat on his bunk.
“You make a terrible liar, Jason. Don’t worry, my department works with the Brits and oversees most organizations here in the states, including the CIA. Jason, you are working for us. That’s why you’re here.”
“No, I’m here to go to school and just keep an ear to the ground,” Jason protested.
“And what would your father have said if we had asked if you could come in to the academy undercover?” Max asked. He sat next to Jason on the bunk.
“You’re the smart one, you already know my dad would have said no.”
“Exactly. So we came up with this, and it had the added benefit of bringing you to the world's top military academy where you could be among people more like yourself. Although you may have blown that with your fight at Pendleton, unless we can smooth it over.”
Chapter Thirteen
Max Fisher spoke to Jason for almost three hours briefing him on the mission. He told him he had originally wanted to make contact at the diner and arrange a meeting, but Jason’s paranoia spoilt that plan.
The United States government was working with a private company called Lockheed. They were building a new type of aircraft th
at could avoid enemy radar by a secret system called Echo 1. The aircraft would be built with flat panels that would be invisible to radar. The plane had the nickname of Stealth; the D.O.D was concerned that the details would get into the hands of the Russians or Chinese. They suspected a double agent was working and using the academy as cover.
Max would be working at the academy under cover as a new instructor teaching older students geography. The previous teacher became suddenly ill and left. They still needed Jason’s help as Max would be suspected, as he was new. Max would let Jason do the snooping around and work with him on any information they could gather to find the suspected mole.
Jason agreed to help if it meant he could stay at the academy, although Max told him that was not going to be easy. They needed to find a suitable punishment that would keep everyone happy and not raise suspicions.
The General smoothed things over with Fort Worth Military Academy. They agreed to let him deal with Jason Steed and concurred that Carver had started the trouble Jason and his friends had just been defending themselves. Camp Pendleton was a different matter; the wounded MP’s were embarrassed by the incident and exaggerated what Jason had done. Eventually they agreed to drop the matter as long as Jason Steed never returned to the games another year. He was banned for life.
Jason was allowed to return to his classes and confinement to his room was lifted. The dirty looks he was given by many of the students stopped after hearing what he had done to help Yankee and Cowboy.
Max Fisher kept his distance from Jason while he was in public, but would turn up at various locations to speak to Jason alone. In the library he spoke to Jason between the bookshelves. He crept into Jason and Tex’s room one night to talk to him while both boys were sleeping. He woke Jason up and suggested they talk in the restroom.
“This had better be good. I was asleep, and I have a math test tomorrow.” Jason yawned. He leaned back heavy against a row of sinks.
Max was his usual happy self. “I sometimes wonder if all what they say about you is true. So far you have given me nothing. You're just like a normal boy.” Max frowned.
“I am a normal boy. What did you expect, Sherlock Holmes? I’m just good at martial arts. I have no idea who the spy is. I’m new here I have seen nothing suspicious apart from you creeping around,” Jason argued. He yawned again, looked at his watch and his reflection in the mirror, and tightened the cord on his Pajamas. “It’s two in the morning. Can’t you find another time to chat to me?”
“Ah well actually, I have and you are going to enjoy it.” Max smiled. “Some of the special guard at the airbase heard about your karate skills. They train two times a week and they heard that you are over qualified for the academy martial arts class and agreed to let you join them training. It will be Mondays and Thursdays around six in the evening. You will be given a special pass.”
Jason came to life. He practiced a kick at himself in the mirror. “I'll be training with special forces? Whoa, bloody awesome. Will you want me to spy on them?”
“No, Jason. The airbase is secure. It’s the academy where we think we have the problem. Can you not think of anyone who is suspicious?” Max paused. “And don’t say me.”
Jason laughed. “No, I have no clue. I spend my time with my class. After class Tex, Yankee, Cowboy, and me sometimes hang out. They're teaching me baseball, although it’s just like a game I’ve played in England we call rounder’s. Apart from that, I’m not sure what you want me to do. I never said I was a good spy.”
“Well, keep an eye out. I'll get you your pass for Monday night. You will be the only one from the academy who has been given one to go into the airbase,” Max said.
“Wait, maybe it’s nothing but maybe it’s something,” Jason said.
“What?” Max said, gaining interest.
“Well, the night I arrived here, Corporal Jones said something strange.”
“Corporal Jones? That guy’s a idiot. He's far too stupid to be a spy for another country,” Max said and continued. “Unless that’s just a cover... What did he say?”
“He mentioned the Jakarta massacre. He knew I was involved.”
“Well Jason, he probably just read your file,” Max argued.
“No, he never knew it was me. He just knew it was a Sea Cadet, but he said, one even escaped with a cassette we had that armed a nuclear warhead.”
“I don’t follow,” Max said.
“Derr, I knew D.O.D stood for Dumbasses on Drugs.” Jason grinned. “A Cassette we had,” he repeated. “What did he mean by we? Is he the agent working for the Chinese?”
“Wow Jason, that’s impressive. Slow to give it to me since it happened when you arrived three weeks ago, but nevertheless something to go on. I will investigate him fully. Okay, you had better get back to bed. You have a math test tomorrow.”
*
Three French sailors and four British naval personal taking part in the United Nations observation team, along with three journalists, were all arrested and imprisoned by the Vietnamese. The United Nations team members and journalists from Australia, Japan, and the United States were in coastal waters off Ho Chi Minh City in a small cruiser launched from British Aircraft Carrier HMS Hermes. The communist Vietnamese government accused them of spying because they came to shore to help with the relief work. The United Nations, along with the respective foreign governments, was trying to negotiate the release of the ten men.
*
Dressed in his karate gee, Jason proudly marched across from the Academy to the airbase. He showed his pass and was allowed into the base. The two-armed guards pointed him in the direction he needed to go. Two more armed guards greeted him and allowed him inside. Once inside, Alex Hannity, a well-built man with a shaved head, greeted him. Jason couldn’t help but notice his tattoos that covered his arms and chest.
He spent the next two hours working out with the men. Much of it consisted with circuit training and various karate movements they called katas and finished off with non-contact sparing. Jason enjoyed sparing more than anything. He was of course much smaller and lighter than his opponents but made up for it with his incredibly fast reactions and moves. Often, they watched in astonishment at his moves. He switched from Taekwondo to Jiu Jitsu to Jeet Kune Do and, every now and then, he would throw an opponent in a Judo move.
On his way out, he passed several offices. They were closed the people working at the secret facility had gone home for the night. On one door he read the sign Radio Communications High Level Security. He tried the door to see just how secure it was and was surprised when it opened. After checking he was not being watched, he snuck inside and looked around. The room had large radios. They looked similar to his friends Scott’s, but these were much larger and looked more modern. On the table, he noticed a folder marked Top Secret. Inside were codes for radio contacts. Jason had no idea what he could do with it but remembered Scott saying that the Americans used secret codes and could never understand what they were saying. I bet Scott would love his. It'd make an awesome birthday gift, he said to himself as he stuck it under his jacket.
He returned back to the academy covered in sweat. He had bruises on his forearms after blocking various blows. he couldn’t wait to see Max again to thank him. He mailed out the secret codes to Scott the following morning, wishing he could see his friend's face when he opened it.
*
Tex and Jason joined Cowboy and Yankee for breakfast the next morning. It was the usual mocking of each other's accents, talking about girls, and what revolver would be best suited to carry. Jason felt strangely at home. He never missed his old school. Maybe Scott, but other than that, he was thoroughly happy.
Even more so, he enjoyed first lesson of the day—military training. Each week at the same time they were taught something of military importance and often had a guest speaker. Jason was delighted when Alex Hannity greeted the boys.
The three-hour lesson was jungle survival training. Hannity had returned from Vietnam just five mon
ths earlier. He had spent six years fighting in ‘Nam as he called it. He had lost many friends and colleagues during the war. He called the North Vietnamese the Vietcong, and he recalled events to the enthusiastic youngsters in Jason’s class. He covered how to survive by eating certain bugs and snakes as well as what plants to eat and avoid. He was awarded the Purple Heart. In a question and answer session at the end of the lesson, Yankee asked him what he hated the most about the war. He replied coming home to America. He was walking down a street and called a baby killer and literally spat on.
It was shocking to hear how he and many were treated. However, reports had hit the news that some troops had raped Vietnamese woman. Over four hundred thousand civilians had been caught up in the cross fire from both sides. Alex Hannity had to take a breath at one moment to prevent himself from breaking down. He explained that, in all wars, bad things happen. Your job, as a solider, is to follow orders on behalf of your country.
The whole class enjoyed the lesson and was disappointed when the bell went for lunch break. They all saluted him and thanked him for his service as they left.
Chapter Fourteen
Jason was called into the commander's office just after lunch. He suspected it had something to do with the fight at Camp Pendleton. He'd hoped by now they would drop the matter and let him get on with his studies. He knocked at the door and was told to wait.
He was concerned about seeing the commander. He would rather face a group of samurai assassins. He knew how to handle them. The commander, on the other hand, was far more unpredictable.
“Come in,” the commander called. Jason marched in and saluted. The commander swiftly saluted back and sucked on his cigar and the tip glowed an angry red. “Ah Jason, please take a seat. I need to talk to you.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” Jason said. He was now worried. The commander never called anyone by his or her first name.
“Jason, have you been watching the news?”