JEH: Yes, and much of it is directed toward the passage of dubious legislation. I view the words "Great Society" as fresh lyrics to "The Internationale."

WJL: It's a deft analogy, Sir.

JEH: Lyndon Johnson will deplete his prestige on the homefront and recoup it in Vietnam. History will judge him as a tall man with big ears who needed wretched people to love him.

WJL: Said with verve, Sir.

JEH: Lyndon Johnson appreciates the verve of one Martin Lucifer King. I've been sending him motel-room tapes. Lucifer performs with equal verve in bed and at barricades.

WJL: Dr. King wears many hats, Sir.

JEH: Yes, and he also wears garishly patterned Fruit-of-theLoom briefs.

WJL: You're maintaining a close surveillance, Sir.

JEH: Yes, and I have Lyle Holly to direct me to Lucifer's favored tryst-spots. I talk to Lyle on a near-daily basis, and he tells me that Bayard Rustin is very much taken with you and your allegedly pilfered organized-crime donations.

WJL: Mr. Rustin finds me sincere, Sir.

JEH: Because you are.

WJL: I work at verve, Sir.

JEH: You succeed.

WJL: Thank you, Sir.

JEH: I detect a shift in tone. Do you wish to ask a question?

WJL: Yes, Sir.

JEH: Ask, Mr. Littell. You know I find preambles taxing.

WJL: Do you know when you'll leak word of my donations?

JEH: When I sense that my missives on Lucifer's Communist ties and sex life have reached their cumulative peak.

WJL: That's a sound strategy, Sir.

JEH: It's an inspired strategy. It's inimical to your recent gambit with Wayne Senior.

WJL: Is he peeved at me, Sir?

JEH: Yes, but he won't tell me why.

WJL: I set up a deal for him. He facilitated some charter flights out of Nellis and wanted a higher percentage. His Mormons have cut him out of his existing one.

JEH: Percentage of what?

WJL: The casino skim his Mormons were moving.

JEH: I am as delighted by that bit of data as Wayne Senior is vexed.

WJL: I'm always pleased to amuse you, Sir.

JEH: Wayne Senior has been in a thoroughly vexed state lately. He's rebuffed all my inquiries about his son.

WJL: I'm going to raise his percentage, Sir. That should improve his mood.

JEH: Why? What do you need from him?

WJL: I need to expand my Nellis clearance.

JEH: To include?

WJL: Flights from Vietnam.

JEH: Data coheres in odd fashions. You're my second postcard from Vietnam this morning.

WJL: Sir?

JEH: Dwight Holly called. He told me that Wayne Tedrow Junior and Pete Bondurant were recently granted Vietnamese travel visas.

WJL: That is odd, Sir.

JEH: Yes, and you are being oddly and blithely disingenuous, so I'll change the subject. How are Count Dracula's colonization plans proceeding?

WJL: Very well, Sir. Pete Bondurant has purchased a taxi stand and is using it to accrue intelligence for Mr. Hughes. The drivers have picked up dirt on several Nevada state legislators.

JEH: It's ingenious. Cab drivers are night-riding denizens of the first order. They view wretched foibles from a gutter perspective.

WJL: I thought you'd appreciate it, Sir. And while we're on the topic of-- JEH: Don't lead me. Ask your favor while I'm still pixilated and bemused.

WJL: I'd like to initiate a standing-bug operation in Vegas. I want to bug the hotel rooms the legislators stay in most frequently. I'll bring in Fred Turentine to help me with the installation, and I'd like local agents to do the retrievals and forward copies to me.

JEH: Do it. I'll assign two agents from the Las Vegas Office.

WJL: Thank you, Sir.

JEH: Thank yourself. You charmed me out of a bad mood.

WJL: I'm glad, Sir.

JEH: What would Tedrow Junior and Le Grand Pierre be doing in Vietnam?

WJL: I couldn't begin to guess.

JEH: Good day, Mr. Littell.

WJL: Good day, Sir.

60.

(Saigon, 11/3/64)

Dig it: Rickshaw bikes and sandbags. Gun nests and frangipani trees. Grenade nets and gooks.

Saigon at high noon--Brave New Fucking World.

It's big. It's tricultural. It's hot. It's noisy. It stinks.

The limo crawled. The limo bucked rickshaws. They bumped. They slid. They locked a la Ben-Hur.

White buildings. Pagodas. Propaganda signs: VIGILANCE IS FREEDOM! TREASON HAILS NORTH!

The limo crawled. The shocks creaked. The wheels slid. The cooler fan died.

Mesplede smoked. Chuck smoked. Flash smoked. The driver sold them black-market Kools. Guery smoked a Cohiba. Chaffee smoked a Mecundo. They smoked pro-Fidel.

Wayne moaned. Wayne got green-gilled. Pete got queasy. Pete read native tongue: A BAS LES VIET-CONG! HO CHI MINH, LE DIABLE COMMUNISTE!.

Qu'est-ce que c'est, toute cette merde?

The limo crawled. They hit Tu Do Street--the Gook Sunset Strip.

Big trees and big shops. Big hotels and big traffic. Big noise en gook.

Pete yawned. Pete stretched. They flew nineteen hours in. Stanton set their rooms up. Hotel Catinat upcoming--sleep most ricky-tick.

The driver rode his horn. The driver clipped a rickshaw. Mesplede sniffed the air and nailed scents.

Nuoc mam--fish sauce--goat bar-b-que. Machine-gun oil/frangipani blossoms/goat shit.

Stanton said, "You'll lay up for two days, then fly to Dak Sut. You'll cross into Laos and meet Tran Lao Dinh. An ARVN rifle squad will walk point for you. Two Hueys will meet you and fly you to a dope camp near Saravan. You'll negotiate right there."

Buddhist monks jaywalked. Traffic stalled up. Pete yawned. Pete stretched. Pete elbowed more room.

Milt C. ran Tiger now. Milt ran liaison gigs. Milt ran adjunct ops: Ward Littell to bug hotel suites. Milt to bribe hotel clerks. Milt to schmooze them. Milt to tell them: place state legislators within.

Pete's bigggg decree: Restrict the Tiger crew. Restrict all pill ops. Rat rival pill crews. Rat said crews to Agent Dwight Holly.

Trash the Vegas pill trade. Dry up West Vegas. Deprive hopheads. Tempt taste buds. Prepare hopheads for Big "H."

Chaffee waved his ditty bag. Chaffee offered gifts. Shrunken heads--certified--all VC tres bien.

Wayne tossed his out. Flash kissed his. Guery named his "Fidel."

Pete yawned. Pete popped Dramamine. The Arden bit bugged him. It bugged him incessant. It bugged him nonstop.

He factored Carlos in. 3/56: Carlos bails Arden/Arden splits K.C.

New Orleans--'59--Mesplede sees Arden. Arden has a date. He's a Carlos man/he's a wop. 11/63: Arden visits the safe house. Carlos thus orders her clipped.

He factored Carlos in. He held back. He never told Ward. He called Fred Otash. He said call around.

Run Arden. Call your contacts. Glom me some leads. Check Arden out. Check out her ex--one Danny Bruvick.

Flash kissed his shrunken head. Flash applied some tongue. Chaffee laughed. Mesplede named his head "de Gaulle."

Chuck waved his head. Wayne grabbed it. Wayne threw it out.

Chuck said, "There's times I think we hired the wrong Tedrow."

No sleep--his head wouldn't stop.

The room was okay--comme ci/comme ca--likewise the Tu Do Street view.

The bed sagged. The grenade-screen creaked. The AC sputtered. Fumes cut through--nuoc mam sauce--ce n 'est pus bon.

Street noise carried up. Choppers buzzed the roof.

Pete gave up. Pete oiled his piece. Pete put out his bedside pix. Barb/the cat snarling/Barb with the cat.

Stanton set up an outing--1900 hours--Saigon by night. We'll check out the natives. We'll dig the night view.

Pete sat on the terrace. Pete dug the now view. Pete saw ARVN cliques. Pete saw gook cops.

Chaffee called them "White Mice." Mesplede called GIs "Con Van My."

The skyline clashed--tin roofs and spires--M-60 machine guns.

He loved war zones. He saw Pearl Harbor. He saw Okinawa. He saw Saipan. He saw Pigs. He avenged Pigs. He scalped Reds beaucoup.

Dusk hit. The roof crews rejoiced. They arced their guns. They shot tracer rounds. They made fireworks.