ience because that was the proper major for entering into the process which really mattered in the world。 Both got master‘s degrees； and most important of all； both were noticed by people who mattered … their parents helped there； and in finding a form of government service that did not expose them to uniformed servitude。 The time of their vulnerability to the draft was early enough that a quiet telephone call to the right bureaucrat was sufficient。
And so； now； both young men had achieved their own entry…level positions in sensitive posts； both as aides to important men。 Their heady expectations of landing policymaking roles while still short of thirty had run hard into the blank wall of reality； but in fact they were closer to it than they fully appreciated； In screening information for their bosses and deciding what appeared on the master‘s desk in what order； they had a real effect on the decision process； and they also had access to data that was wide； diverse； and sensitive。 As a result in many ways both knew more than their bosses did。 And that； Hicks and Henderson thought； was fitting； because they often understood the important things better than their bosses did。 It was all so clear。 War was a bad thing and had to be avoided entirely； or when that wasn‘t possible； ended as rapidly as one could bring it about； because war ended lives； and that was a very bad thing； and with war out of the way； people could learn to solve their disagreements peacefully。 It was so obvious both stood in wonder that so many people failed to grasp the simple clarity of the Truth that both men had discovered in high school。
There was only one difference between the two； really。 As a White House staffer； Hicks worked inside the system。 But be shared everything with his classmate； which was okay because both had Special Access security clearances … and besides； he needed the feedback of a trained mind he both understood and trusted。
Hicks didn‘t know that Henderson had taken one step beyond him。 If he couldn‘t change government policy from the inside； Henderson had decided during the Days of Rage following the Cambodia incursion； he had to get help from the outside … some outside agency that could assist him in blocking government actions that endangered the world。 There were others around the world who shared his aversion to war； people who saw that you couldn‘t force people to accept a form of government they really didn‘t want。 The first contact had e at Harvard； a friend in the peace movement。 Now he municated with someone else。 He ought to have shared this fact with his friend； Henderson told himself； but the timing just wasn‘t right。 Wally might not understand yet。
‘ … it has to； and it will；‘ Henderson said； waving to the waitress for another round。 ‘The war will end。 We will get out。 Vietnam will have the government it wants。 We will have lost a war； and that will be a good thing for our country。 We‘ll learn from that。 We‘ll learn the limits of our power。 We‘ll learn to live and let live； and then we can give peace a chance。‘
Kelly arose after five。 The events of the previous day had left him more fatigued than he had appreciated； and besides； traveling had always tired him out。 But he was not tired now。 A total of eleven hours‘ sleep in the last twenty…four had left him fully rested and alert。 Looking in the mirror； he saw the heavy beard from almost two days‘ worth of growth。 Good。 Then he selected his clothing。 Dark； baggy； and old。 He‘d taken the whole bundle down to the laundry room and washed everything with hot water and extra bleach to abuse the fabric and mute the colors； making already shabby clothing look all the more unsightly。 Old white gym socks and sneakers pleted the picture； though both were more serviceable than their appearance suggested。 The shirt was too large for him； and long； which suited his purposes。 A wig pleted the picture he wanted； made of coarse black Asian hair； none too long。 He held it under a hot…water faucet and soaked it； then brushed it out in a deliberately sloppy way。 He‘d have to find a way to make it smell； too； Kelly thought。
Nature again provided some additional cover。 Evening storms were rolling in； bringing with them leaf…swirling wind and rain that covered him on the way to his Volkswagen。 Ten minutes later he parked near a neighborhood liquor store； where he purchased a bottle of cheap yellow wine and a paper bag to semiconceal it。 He took off the twist cap and poured about half of it into a gutter。 Then it was time to go。
It all looked different now； Kelly thought。 It was no longer an area he could pass through； seeing the dangers or not。 Now it was a place of sought danger。 He drove past the spot where he‘d led Billy and his Roadrunner； turning to see if the tire marks were still there … they weren‘t。 He shook his head。 That was in the past； and the future occupied his thoughts。
In Vietnam there always seemed to be the treeline； a spot where you passed from the openness of a field or farmed area into the jungle； and in your mind that was the place where safety ended and danger began because Charlie lived in the woods。 It was just a thing of the mind； a boundary imaginary rather than real； but in looking around this area he saw the same thing。 Only this time he wasn‘t walking in with five or ten rades in striped jungle fatigues。 He was driving through the barrier in a rust…speckled car。 He accelerated； and just like that； Kelly was in the jungle； and again at war。
He found a parking place among autos as decrepit as his own； and quickly got out； as he once would have run away from a helicopter LZ the enemy might see and approach； and headed into an alley dotted with trash and several discarded appliances。 His senses were alert now。 Kelly was already sweating； and that was good。 He wanted to sweat and smell。 He took a mouthful of the cheap wine and sloshed it around his mouth before letting it dribble out onto his face； neck； and clothing。 Bending down briefly； he got a handful of dirt； which he rubbed onto his hands and forearms； and a little onto his face。 An afterthought added some to the hair of his wig； and by the time Kelly had passed through the city…block…length of the alley； he was just one more wino； a street bum like those who dotted the area even more than the drug pushers。 Kelly adjusted his gait； slowing down and being deliberately sloppy in his movements while his eyes searched for a good perch。 It wasn‘t all that difficult。 Several of the houses in the area were vacant； and it was just a matter of funding one with a good view。 That required half an hour。 He settled for a corner house with upstairs bay windows。 Kelly entered it from the back door。 He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw two rats in the wreckage of what a few years before had been a kitchen。 Fuckin‘ rats！ It was foolish to fear them； but he loathed their small black eyes and leprous hair and naked tails。
‘Shit！‘ he whispered to himself。 Why hadn‘t he thought about that？ Everybody got a creeping chill from something： spiders； snakes； or tall buildings。 For Kelly； it was rats。 He walked towards the doorway； careful to keep his distance。 The rats merely looked at him； edging away but less afraid of him than he was of them。 ‘Fuck！‘ they heard him whisper； leaving them to their meal。
What followed was anger。 Kelly made his way up the unbanistered stairs and found the corner bedroom with the bay windows； furious with himself for allowing such a dumb and cowardly distraction。 Didn‘t he have a perfectly good weapon for dealing with rats？ What were they going to do； assemble into a battalion for a rat…wave attack？ That thought finally caused an embarrassed smile in the darkness of the room。 Kelly crouched at the windows； evaluating his field of view and his own visibility。 The windows were dirty and cracked。 Some glass panels were missing entirely； but each window had a fortable sill on which he could sit； and the house‘s location at the corner of two streets gave him a long view along each of the four main points of the pass； since this part of the city streets was laid out along precisely surveyed north…south； east…west lines。 There wasn‘t enough illumination on the streets for those below him to see into the house。 With his dark； shabby clothing； in this unfit and derelict house； Kelly was invisible。 He took out a small pair of binoculars and began his reconnaissance。
His first task was to learn the environment。 The rain showers passed； leaving moisture in the air that made for little globes of light punctuated by the flying insects attracted to their eventual doom by streetlights。 The air was still warm； perhaps mid…eighties； falling slowly； and Kelly was perspiring a little。 His first analytical thought was that he should have brought water to drink。 Well； he could correct that in the future； and he didn‘t really need a drink for some hours。 He had thought to bring chewing gum； and that made things easier。 The sounds of the streets were curious。 In the jungle he‘d heard the tittering of insects； the calls of birds； and the flapping of bats。 Here it was automotive sounds near or distant； the occasional squeal of brakes； conversations loud or muted； barking dogs； and rattling