The Richard Jackson Saga Book 13: Regicide
Ed & Carol Nelson
The Richard Jackson Saga
Book 13: Regicide
By Ed Nelson
Other books by Ed Nelson
The Richard Jackson Saga
Book 1 The Beginning
Book 2 Schooldays.
Book 3 Hollywood!
Book 4 In the Movies
Book 5 Star to Deckhand
Book 6 Surfing Dude
Book 7 Third Time is a Charm
Book 8: Oxford University
Book 9: Cold War
Book 10: Taking Care of Business
Book 11: Interesting Times
Book 12: Escape From Siberia
Book 13: Regicide
Stand Alone Stories
Ever and Always
Dedication
This is dedicated to my wife Carol for her support and help as my first reader and editor.
Thanks to my Editors, Ernest Bywater, Lonelydad57, Old Rotorhead, Lon, and Antti.
Also, the Bellefontaine High School Class of 1962, just because.
Quotation
“That’s the way it happened, give or take a lie or two.”
James Garner as Wyatt Earp describing the gunfight at the OK Corral in the movie Sunset.
Copyright © 2021
E. E. Nelson
All rights reserved.
Eastern Shore Publishing
2331 Del Webb Blvd. W.
Sun City Center, FL 33573
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
ISBN 978-1953395-26-9
Table of Contents
Contents
The Richard Jackson Saga
Other books by Ed Nelson
Dedication
Quotation
Copyright © 2021
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 1
On the first Wednesday of the new year, 1963 I had a call from the White House. The President would like to speak with me, would I please take the call.
I had received a lot of calls from the White House, but that was the first time the word, “Please,” was used, and wanting to know if I would take the call. It was usually, “Stand by for the President.”
“Most certainly.”
While I said this I was puckering up, the Kennedys and my family and I were not on the best of terms, it would be more accurate to say we were on the outs.
“Rick, this is John, I need a favor.”
Before I was tightening up waiting for a punch, now it was getting ready for a car crash.
“What sort of favor?”
“We need your influence in South Vietnam.”
“What for?”
“There is a warlord in the Golden Triangle that is getting out of hand. He is close to unifying the whole area. As you may know, this area is where most of the world's heroin comes from. The only thing that has limited their production has been the infighting there. If this guy controls the entire area the cost of heroin would go down, and our problems would multiply.
“We need to get a SEAL element of four men there quietly and quickly. That is where you come in. If you could have them flown in and get them upcountry it would be a tremendous help.”
“I’ll do it. Who is my contact? The CIA?”
“Yes, the CIA for now but I can see a time when they will be part of a special warfare command. I don’t like the idea of the CIA having their own army; they cause enough problems as it is. At this time, I retain approval on all missions. You will be contacted by a SEAL Commander from Team 2 in Little River, Va. In the meantime, could you get things set up with the South Vietnamese?”
“I can, Mister President.”
“Rick, I have told my father and Bobbie to lay off, this feud between our families is getting us nowhere.”
“That is good to hear.”
“Knowing that will you put new products in the US.”
“No promises, let's see how things go for a while.”
“I will keep a tight rein on them.”
“Time will tell.”
“You have gotten cynical since I first met you.”
“Thank you for the education, Mister President, I will be waiting for a call from the SEALs.”
At that, I hung up. Wow, I just hung up on the President of the United States. How many nineteen-year-olds can say that?
I placed a call to South Vietnam. It only took the long-distance operator two hours to make the connection. I got through to the President’s Chief of Staff.
I told him that I would be flying to South Vietnam shortly and would like to arrange the rental of an aircraft to fly up the country. A DC3 would be perfect.
He told me he could and asked if I could share why I was doing this. I told him that I would update him and the President when I got there, this was an open line.
Even saying that may be giving information away.
An hour later I had a call from Commander Steve Wallace from SEAL Team 2.
“I was told to give you a call about our trip upcountry.”
“Yeah, a guy who lives in a vanilla house asked me to give some of your guys a lift.”
“When can you do it?”
“As soon as you want to. My plane is staged at Ontario Airport so it could be there in six or seven hours, make that ten as I have to round the crew up.”
“So late afternoon tomorrow?”
“Yeah, we can take off at o’dark thirty and be there.”
Can you fly into Norfolk?”
“Can it take a 707?”
“No, we better meet at Pax River.”
“Okay, we can do that, but we will need advance landing permission.”
“I’ll arrange it, use the call sign Hollywood.”
“That works. We will land around two p.m.”
“See you then.”
I went in search of my parents. Dad was at work, with Mum at some charity planning meeting, so I had to wait until they got home.
I told them that JFK had called and asked a favor while declaring his family would back off. Mum was cynical about the whole thing, but she decided that wait and see was the best choice.
As far as the favor they saw no problems with flying a team of SEALs into South Vietnam and providing them a DC3 to get upcountry to carry out their mission.
While it hadn’t been discussed all three of us thought it would be best if I waited around to give them a ride out.
I had called my Chief Pilot in the afternoon, and he assured me the plane would be ready to go. Its engines had just had a three thousand flight hour rebuild and were good to go. In this case, the engines had been pulled and rebuilt engines hung. That lessened the aircraft downtime. At the same time, the airframe was inspected.
It was nice to know the plane would probably stay up in the air.
This flight had a full service on board. That meant two flight crews to relieve each other in the air and extra stewardesses for the same purpose. Food was on board for ten passengers. I requested that enough food for the trip out and back be on board.
I didn’t want to depend on some catering service in South Vietnam. I had done that once, and that would be the only time.
It was a good thing we weren’t like the commercial airlines. We had both refrigerators and freezers on board.
The flight east didn’t seem to last long, at least to me. I went right back to bed as soon as we took off. Another four hours of sleep did wonders. Also, a shower and shave didn’t hurt.
I debated on what to wear. The ever-present Harold had me in what I called California casual, slacks, polo shirt, and sport coat. No bright colors.
Landing at Patuxent River was beautiful. It is located on the Chesapeake Bay. Even though it was the middle of the winter with ice on the river and edges of the bay it was still a striking view.
During the landing, I sat up front with the cockpit crew. There were no hassles with our landing call sign. As we were landing two Phantom F4s were taking off, side by side.
Our copilot had gone through the test pilot school there and had been stationed there for a while until he got the urge to make more money. Dusty told us the F4’s would make a racetrack circle around the bay for six hours and land, new pilots would take over and keep flying the planes.
Each change to a Navy aircraft had to have fifteen hundred hours flight time before they could be introduced to the fleet. This included everything from a change in the seat upholstery to new weapon systems.
To keep costs down they would test many purposed changes at the same time. The test pilots would make notes during their circles.
That sounded boring to me. Dusty agreed, he said it had been known for a pilot to swing wide and leave a sonic boom across the Eastern Shore that woke all the chickens. That was when I found out that was a major industry there. Talk about things you don’t need to know.
After landing we followed a jeep to a pad outside of a hangar. The hangar was out of sight of anyone driving the perimeter road. At soon as the engines were shut down armed Marines surrounded the aircraft.
Stairs were wheeled out and four men came up the steps, each lugging a seabag full of gear. As soon as they crossed the threshold the door was closed, and we taxied out for a quick turnaround.
Since the trip was about nine thousand miles, we couldn’t do it non-stop by taking the great polar route. The flight plan called for us to refuel in Alaska, then Japan before going to Saigon City.
This would make the trip around twenty-four hours with refueling stops.
Chapter 2
During the flight, I got to know a little about the SEAL team members and what was required to be a SEAL. It was simple, be able to jump out of airplanes, swim forever, and be a ghost on land. Those abilities got you a ticket to play the game. Once in you had to show that you hadn’t “any give up in you.”
I thought I was in good shape, when they described their initial BUD/S requirements I now knew that I am a wimp. They had to explain that BUD/S stood for Basic Underwater Demolition/ SEAL training. And what took place.
One of the guys was a little fellow, he stood five feet in his stocking feet. I towered over him. He described having his hands and feet tied together and being thrown into fifteen feet of water and then having to retrieve a facemask. He used his teeth to bring it up.
They did have the grace to ask me about my escape from Siberia and I appeared to meet their requirements for being a ghost on land, and they approved of my hang glider tactics to get away from the tracking dogs.
Mostly they slept on the flight, as they explained once they hit the ground, they might not get any sleep for days. That and they went over their equipment.
I knew enough about classified operations not to ask for any details. My job was to get them into South Vietnam and arrange for the government to allow them to transit to the north so they could get into the Shan State of Burma. They intended to go through Laos to get there.
I did ask if they were going by air or walk-in. They told me that it would be good if I could arrange them a ride by air to the Laos border and they would walk from there.
That did sound like a time-sensitive journey to me. I asked if they could parachute in. They could but would need the proper aircraft and someone crazy enough to fly into the area.
When we landed at Saigon I was whisked away in a new limo, which was bought with my money, to see the President.
He wanted to know what was so sensitive that I couldn’t talk on the phone. I explained the outline of the mission. He thought the goal was good but agreed with me that they could never hike that far in the country without getting caught.
He then shared with me that South Vietnam had several agents living in a village near where the SEALs need to go. They could establish a drop zone for the SEALs if they could get flown in.
I asked if the DC3 that I had requested was available. He told me that one leftover from World War II had just been reconditioned and they would be glad to sell it to me.
Bless their little capitalist hearts.
The price was reasonable, now all I needed was a flight crew. My next stop was the US Embassy to ask for the local CIA contact. Of course, no such person existed. I was allowed to talk to an agricultural attaché, as he might know someone that could help me.
I didn’t know his name, but he was one of the guys that I had seen being outed by the Russians in LA. He recognized me and chose not to play any games which I appreciated.
I told him I need a pilot, copilot, and a jumpmaster. He knew of a pilot and even a jumpmaster in the area that could be hired quickly but not a second person qualified on the DC3.
Making an executive decision I decided I could go as the copilot since I was qualified on twin engines. The pilot could teach me what the differences were while we were in the air.
Okay, I’m not always the sharpest tool in the shed.
The SEAL team had been waiting on my 707 while I was in my meetings. When I returned there was a South Vietnamese Air Force Major waiting with the keys and logbook to my newly purchased DC3.
It took another day to find the pilot and jumpmaster, both retired French Air Force. I thought all the French had been kicked out of the South but a lot who lived with native wives were still there.
After a long walk around and discussion about the aircraft, I decided that I could fly safely with them. My Chief Pilot on the 707 told me I was crazy and none of the 707 crew would go with me.
That is the little guy, Harry Beal almost had one of the stewardesses talked into it, but she backed down at the last minute. Harry told Marge that he forgave her and would see her when he got back.
While we were waiting on our French crewmen, I got a message that two nights from now at a given set of coordinates, gasoline drums would be lit to outline a drop zone. The SEALs would have to jump in.
It would be a long walk out. Still, that was better than having to walk both ways.
I had made some phone calls and got permission for us to refuel in Hanoi so we would be in good shape fuel-wise.
The SEALs had several radio sets with them. They decided to leave one and take two with them as the chance of failure while walking in had dropped. They left it with me with a list of frequencies they could use. We didn’t see where it would be needed but they believed in over preparation.
For parachutes, they had the newest type that acted as an airfoil instead of the type used by army paratroopers. With those, they could land within feet of their target zone.
I didn’t know it was possible to carry as many weapons as they unloaded from their duffle bags. After cleaning and checking each weapon and making sure that it had a magazine in the well and the safety was on, they were ready to jump.
Their gear in the duffle bags would be pushed out the door first with a line attached to their waist so they wouldn’t get crushed by their gear when hitting the ground.
They had a simple plan, jump into the area, and then do what they called snoop and poop around until they found the warlord. Kill him with a sniper shot and walk back home.
They had maps of the area which showed where the warlord stayed. They planned on hitting him when he came out of his mansion. They even had pictures of his house and him.
It was a mansion. I suspect a Frenchman built it. He looked Chinese to me, and when I asked if he was, they shrugged.
On the flight to Hanoi, I made a pest of myself asking the pilot questions about the aircraft. He got a little surly the third hour into the flight, so I laid off for a while.
One thing I found interesting was that the plane required 232 quarts of oil, more than the fuel load of a single-engine plane.
Taking off was supposed to be strange. You had to bring the tail up so the aircraft was flying level. This was to bring the tail seven feet off the ground.
When landing he did share that enriching the mixture before landing was backward to most planes. Pushing them forward makes for a very underpowered plane.
I took the controls for a while and found it was heavy on the controls, one could get a real workout flying the plane. I found that the trim tabs were a pilot's best friend.
I figured that with another ten or twenty hours I could be checked out on this plane.
We took off just at dusk from Hanoi and made our flight to the Golden Triangle. When we reached the designated coordinates, lights flared below. They had heard our aircraft which was now circling at ten thousand feet.
The jumpmaster had the SEALs ready to go. The door of the aircraft had been removed for this flight, so it was easy for them to go out.
After Harry Beal, the last man, left the plane, we turned for Hanoi. They were walking out but I wanted to stay in the area if we were needed.
I had the radio they left with me and tuned to the correct channel. About half an hour after the drop the radio squelched twice. They were down in the landing zone with no injuries.
We returned to Hanoi where my pilot and jumpmaster left for a night on the town. I just hoped they didn’t get arrested. It turned out a vain hope as the Police let me know they were in custody and not to expect them back soon.
It was a good thing I had brought a sleeping bag and extra food. I would spend the next two days listening for signals from the SEALs. I did wonder how I had gone from providing transportation to South Vietnam to listening for mission signals in North Vietnam. I suspected I shouldn’t tell Mum about this.
Chapter 3
My pilot was in jail, along with the jumpmaster. I had made phone calls to the government but all of a sudden no one wanted to talk to me.
It was a case of me having to offer bribes or they were in bed with the drug lords. Probably both. No one was touching me, but they certainly weren’t helping.
Having nothing else to do until I could free my flight crew, I waited by the radio to see if the SEAL team came on the air. If they did, they had dire problems.
The team was supposed to walk out so I could have flown home as soon as they were dropped. That was all well and good, but I remembered that in war the enemy had a vote. This was war.
Two days later my flight crew was still in jail, I did manage to find out that they had gotten into a fight in a brothel and that someone had been stabbed to death.
They were both being held on murder charges and wouldn’t be getting out shortly. The only reason the aircraft wasn’t seized was that I was on board. If I left it would be impounded as a flight risk.
One thing they had right, it was a risk to fly this plane.
Late afternoon the third day the radio came alive. The SEAL team had accomplished their mission, but one man had been severely wounded, and they could never carry him out. He would die before they could get him to safety.
When I answered it took a few minutes for us to gain trust in our communications. When a guy said he was looking forward to seeing Marge again I knew it was Harry Beal at the other end.
Now the question was, “Was he under duress?”
No matter the answer I couldn’t be certain. That is until I thought to ask him if he was still thinking of joining the Wallenda’s.
“That ship has sailed.”
That told me he was not held captive. I had allowed him to lie, and he hadn’t. Not the best way to handle it, but all I could think of at the time.
“How close are you to the drop zone?”
“Our friends are hiding us very close to it.”
“Is there anywhere near there that the plane can land.”
“Yes, there is an open field that is long enough to land and take off from. It looked clear of obstructions, but you never know about potholes.”
“Can they light the place up like they did the drop zone?”
It took a couple of minutes for the reply to come back but the answer was, “Yes.”
“Okay the plane is good to go, and it is two hours flying time, so when they hear the engines have them light the zone up. If possible, make a visible arrow showing the wind direction.”
“Will do. Hurry if you can, Steve is in a bad way.”
I knew it was terrible radio procedure on a covert op, but you do what you have to do.
“On my way.”
The DC3 hadn’t been tied down but I had to remove sandbags from in front of the tires. I did a perfunctory walk around.
The obvious problem here was that I wasn’t checked out on this aircraft, and it normally took two people.
One person could fly it, but the controls were so heavy that a person would tire out.
As Mum would say, “Needs must when the devil drives.”
She talked about the devil a lot.
I fired up the first engine and counted twelve prop blades passing by before trying the other. The second one had the same procedure.
At least the Hanoi air control tower wasn’t manned at night. It also meant there were no runway lights. Fortunately, for being a tail dragger, you could see out the front fairly well.
To this day I’m not certain how I did it, but I got the bird up in the air. Now the problem was to find the small village. I had no navigator and no idea what the winds aloft were doing to my flight path.
I was able to follow a road west out of Hanoi into Laos so my first hundred miles or so were on track.
The plane had a rudimentary autopilot, so I was able to set it and look at the maps we had brought with us for the first flight in.
There were enough villages with lights along the way that I was able to feel confident that I was on track. Also, as the lights of the next town came upon the horizon, I could tell that I had little wind drift that night.
Thank the lord for small, or not-so-small favors.
The last twenty or so miles were the tensest. I flew by compass heading towards where I thought the small village was.
The radio came alive with, “We hear you. We are lighting up.”
At first, I couldn’t see the lights of the burning fifty-five-gallon drums. But all of a sudden, I saw one of them, then others.
I circled the area until I was pretty sure of the runway layout. Well, the open direction of the field. I was going to put to the test the DC3s ability to land on rough ground.
The next problem I faced was getting this plane on the ground. How do you tell where the ground is at night? I had no reliable landmarks.
All I could do was turn on the landing lights and go in low and slow. I had to hope that the lights would show me the ground before I crashed into it.
As I passed the first set of drums, I saw land below. I was too high but had enough open area to bring it down. The plane was a beast fighting me all the way. I was too hyped up to notice it now, but I would pay a price later.
I had to stand on the brakes while idling the engines. At least there were no large ruts to cause a ground loop.
As the plane rolled to a stop a car came up alongside the rear door. Three men jumped out of the door. One of them was using a fireman's carry to handle a fourth.
No sooner were they out of the car than machine-gun fire ripped into it. The car was shredded and in flames. If anyone was in it, they were gone.
The guys helped each other to the plane. I had to turn the plane around so we could take off. I had idled the engines but hadn’t shut them off. I had planned on a quick turnaround, just not this quick.
I could hear bullets tearing into the plane's fuselage but nothing vital had been hit to my knowledge, at least yet.
As I completed turning the plane around, I heard yelling from the back.
“We’re in!”
I started my forward roll. The DC3, at least the one I had, featured a mirror outside of the pilot's window, just like a car.
It was dark out but from the flames of the burning car, I could see one last man running hanging from the doorway. He hadn’t got on board before I started rolling.
That was when I saw Harry Beal catch the door frame and lift himself one-handed. In his other hand, he had some sort of light machine gun, and he was firing it at some unseen target.
I could still hear bullets hitting the aircraft, so I started zigzagging down the field as we picked up speed. I heard the door in the back thud closed so Harry was on board or not. I couldn’t check at that moment.
He was because he came up to the cockpit as I rotated the nose. He sat in the copilot's seat and put on the co-pilot's communication gear.
“Where’s your pilot?”
“In jail in Hanoi, he and the jumpmaster got in a fight in a brothel and killed a guy.”
“Are we going back for them?”
“No way, I have broken so many rules tonight they would keep me forever.”
“Well, we appreciate it.”
“How’s Steve?”
Steve wasn’t his real name; it was the one he was using on this mission.
“He’ll make it now; we didn’t have enough anti-biotics with us. When we got to the village there was a kid in dire need, so we used them on her.”
“So where are we going?”
“We have enough fuel to make Saigon.”
“Good.”
“Did you get your guy?”
“Oh yeah.”
That was the last I heard of that. Harry went to the back to check on the other guys. They were chowing down on some k-rations which were probably old when Custer was making his stand.
While I flew Harry worked the radio. He reached a contact in Saigon who arranged for a doctor with the antibiotics to meet us. I had him contact my real flight crew to have the 707 ready to go.
At least they had lights at the Saigon airport and a manned control tower. I landed the plane and taxied over to the 707.
I turned off the engines of the DC3 and we left it. A doctor was on board the 707, he was being paid to accompany our wounded guy to the States.
It was only when we were on board my jet, I realized how tired I was. That had been a wild ride.
I slept most of the flight home. We refueled in transit at Tokyo and landed at some airbase in Alaska. There the SEAL team disappeared. At least they got off the plane.
We flew on down to Ontario airport in California. There the flight was treated as though we had just returned from Washington D. C.
I always wondered what happened to that DC3 I left in Saigon. I suppose it is still flying somewhere in the world.
Chapter 4
It was the middle of the day when I got home. Both my parents were waiting for me. I knew I would have to face the music sometime, just not now.
Dad asked, “Rick, what did you do in South Vietnam? We thought you were just ferrying a SEAL team into place.”
“Things got out of hand.”
“How,” Mum asked?
“When we got there, we couldn’t round up a full crew to fly the team to Laos.”
“Round up a team, I thought you were just allowing them to fly on your plane, once you got there they were on their own.”
“The CIA was going to have them hike up there, they would have never made it, much less got back. At that point I went to the South Vietnamese government for help, they sold me a DC3 and gave me leads on a flight crew.”
“So, you were done?”
“Well, no, we had a pilot and jumpmaster but no co-pilot.”
“So, the mission was aborted?”
“I decided that since I’m checked out on twin engines I could act as the copilot.”
“So, you flew into Laos and helped drop the SEAL team.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Idiot.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Then what?”
“After the SEALs jumped in the designated drop zone we flew on to Hanoi.”
“Why there, why not back to Saigon?”
“The SEALs had left a radio with me, I figured that I had better keep the plane close if the pilot had to go back in.”
“Did he?”
“No, he and the jumpmaster got in a fight in a brothel and killed a guy. They are still in jail.”
“How did you get back to Saigon?”
This was worse than being grilled about my schoolwork.
“I flew.”
“Flew what?”
“The DC3.”
At that point, my Dad lost it, “Damn it, Rick, spit it out, tell us all that happened.”
“On my second day there with the flight crew in jail, I got a radio message that the SEAL team had accomplished its mission but were in trouble.”
“You slept with the radio?”
“I slept on the plane with it. One of the team members was wounded and would not survive being carried out. He had an infection.”
“So, you flew a DC3 by yourself, finding them, landing, picking them up, and flying onto Saigon.”
“That is about it.”
I hoped they wouldn’t ask if there was any trouble with the pickup.
“Was there any trouble on the pickup?”
“The warlord's men chased them down. While I turned the plane, their car got shot up, but they got out okay. Two of them managed to get the wounded man on board.”
“What about the fourth man?”
“The fourth SEAL, Harry Beal, was firing at the warlord's men while lifting himself onto the aircraft, which I had just started to taxi.”
“It’s a wonder they didn’t hit the DC3.”
“They did, luckily nothing critical. I zig-zagged enough they couldn’t get a good shot.”
“Anything else?”
“No, I flew us back to Saigon, there was a medical team waiting. We all transferred to the 707 and got out of Dodge.”
“What about the DC3?”
“I left it there with the keys in it, so it is probably gone.”
“The South Vietnamese government called; they want to know what you want to do with the airplane that has over one hundred bullet holes in it.”
“Repair it, I guess. I may need it again to fly back upcountry.”
Mum looked at me and shook her head.
“Over my dead body.”
I took that as a no.
“Your father told them to have it repaired and flown back here to the States. It is a good plane; we shouldn’t waste it. Though if I had my way, we would dump it in the Pacific.”
Mums get worked up over everything.
“Also, the President would like you to call him when you have the time.”
Now seemed like a good time, the President was less likely to give me a hard time than my parents.
The operator managed to place the call in ten minutes, it must have been a record. Half a day would have been fine with me, being on the phone when my parents were unhappy seemed like a good deal.
“Rick, congratulations on a successful mission.”
“Thank you, Mister President; not what I set out to do.”
“But you did it when the chips were down. The country owes you another debt of gratitude but just like in the past we can’t acknowledge it.”
“I didn’t do it for any glory.”
“That’s what makes you a hero. But you do have a job offer.”
“What's that?”
“The CIA would like to hire you as a pilot for their Asian airline, Air America.”
“No thank you. On second thought are they serious?”
“Yes.”
“Now that is scary, they are offering me a job like that without doing a background check to see if I could take the job or even needed the money.”
“That’s what I told them.”
We both chuckled at that thought.
“Seriously Rick if you ever need anything call me. Also, there is a SEAL team that would run through brick walls for you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind; never know when you might have a brick wall that needs running through.”
“Smart aleck.”
“Part of my job description, I’m still a teenager you know.”
“May I speak to one of your parents please?”
“Here is my Mum, she knows the whole story.”
They talked for a while. When she hung up, she had a funny smile.
“That guy is nothing like his Dad. It’s a shame I hadn’t met him first.”
I wanted to stick my fingers in my ears and make funny sounds, somethings you didn’t want to hear.”
“Rick, I do think our problems with the Kennedys are over, at least with JFK, I'm still not sure about Bobby.”
After that, I took the afternoon off. I rode George over to the Forestry Service station and hit a few golf balls.
At dinner that night Dad informed me that since I was here it would be a good time to have a business meeting. I agreed, so we planned to bring everyone together at the end of next week.
Mum brought up that she had seen a brief article that Nina was dating a young actor from the studio.
That announcement didn’t give me any pangs at all. It did make me wonder about all my agony when she cheated on me. Maybe it was my ego about being cheated on, rather than a betrayed love for Nina.
Food for thought. As it was, she could date whomever she wanted, it didn’t bother me anymore.
Dad also advised me to stop at the Jackson R&D center to see what all the excitement was about. The chips that they had developed had everyone in an uproar.
I didn’t understand this as other people had made and patented some forms of chips. The only thing we could have done differently was come up with a practical chip. One that worked in the real world and not just in the laboratory. One that could be manufactured.
I told him I would stop by and ask to be updated. He frowned at that statement.
“Maybe I had better call them in the morning and make an appointment so they will be ready for me.”
“Good idea.”
At dinner, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I knew they weren’t happy about what I had done in Vietnam. They had grilled me in detail. The one thing I expected was a lecture at least if not being grounded, or whatever parents could do with an emancipated kid.
I was about to die with nervous anticipation after dinner, so asked if we could talk in the library. Mary didn’t help when she asked, “What did Ricky do now?”
Mum told her, “Just his normal heroics.”
“Oh, okay.”
When we got to the library, I asked them what they had to say or do about my actions in Vietnam.
“Why, nothing, Rick, you are an adult now and can make your own choices. We don’t agree with this one but done is done.”
“I thought I would be in trouble.”
“I guess we could send you to your room with no dinner.”
“I just ate.”
Dad sighed, “You don’t get it, we worry about you, but we know you are going to do what you do. Someday it will catch up with you. It scares us.”
“I don’t mean to try to be a hero, but when you are there and only you can do the job, what would you have me do?”
“That’s the problem, Rick, we would have you do what you need to do, we just don’t have to like the situation.”
Mum broke in, “It all began when JFK called you to take the SEAL team into Vietnam. There had to be other ways to do that. Once you started down that road it seemed to be foreordained that your life would be at risk.”
Dad continued, “You do what you have to do when you are on the ground, but you should have never been on the ground in the first place. If you don’t learn to say no, events will catch up with you someday.”
“I hear you; I have to think about this.”
Chapter 5
My first stop of the week was at the R&D lab. I wish I hadn’t gone there. I developed a monumental headache trying to follow what they were telling me.
They had come up with a family of integrated circuits which was more efficient than any of its predecessors and more importantly didn’t infringe on any other patents.
Another plus was these could be manufactured with a higher throughput rate. They attributed a lot of that to my suggestion that they use pharmaceutical cleanroom protocols.
Another advancement they made was in the passivation process. This was the stabilization of the silicon surfaces through oxidation. I nodded my head as though I understood what they were talking about.
Also, they were protecting the transistors with a planar process using a thick layer of oxide. At this point, I couldn’t even figure out when to nod my head.
I stopped listening when they started talking about large numbers of p-n junctions for impedance. I never figured out if impedance was a good or bad thing.
In their main conference room, we talked about the best way to proceed. They were upfront that while they had developed the process, they were not the people to implement it.
It would take a manufacturing team to design the equipment to manufacture something new to the world. The cost would be enormous.
We would have to either take in partners or license the right to manufacture the chips. I had very good luck with licensing the shower heads and hairdryers, so my first impulse was to go that way.
After listening to what would be needed in the way of personnel and financing my mind was made up. We would try to license out the new integrated circuit chips. We might even finance a new start-up company if it looked like it could succeed but we wouldn’t take on the project ourselves.
We moved on to what their next projects would be. One director thought they had done as much as they could and that the teams should be reassigned to other projects.
Now I didn’t understand the technology involved but I did understand that the result was a complete breakthrough in electronics. From devices with hundreds or even thousands of tubes we now could use these IC Chips.
I asked them how long it had taken them to develop what they currently had. It was eighteen months.
Deciding with no real data I asked that the team be divided into three groups. The first group would work on optimizing the current production technology.
The second group would spend eighteen months generating second-generation chips which would double the number of transistors.
The third group would be working on a third generation which would double once more the number of transistors.
When group two completed their task, in the eighteen-month timeline they move up to the third step using the data created by group three.
Group three then would move onto another third step or doubling what they had previously been working on.
If we could keep this pace up, we would always be the leading technical source for IC Chips. Our licensing agreements were to take this into account.
Several people wanted to argue with me because I was just a kid. I stopped all that by reminding them that I owned this company lock, stock, and barrel.
That shut them up. It also reminded me of Mum saying, “Because I said so!”
My next stop was to see Jim Williamson in his office. We had to plan the agenda for the business meeting. Before that, I asked him to look into what the appropriate bonuses would be for the people at the R&D lab.
He thought a one-time cash bonus and a continuing extremely small portion of the licensing profits should go into a pool to be shared by the staff who had worked on the project.
I asked him why an extremely small portion of the profits.
“Rick, I have talked to them about the applications. We are talking about billions of IC Chips.”
“Oh, they still would get rich.”
“Right, and it would be over a longer period so we wouldn’t have a lot of immediate retirees.”
“This is why I pay you the big bucks.”
“Speaking of which.”
“You want more!”
“No, I just wanted to get a rise out of you.”
We talked about the upcoming business meeting. We both agreed that the format we used in the last meeting worked so we would follow it again.
The next week flew bye in a flurry of pre-meeting meetings. I didn’t realize so much work went into getting ready for a state of the business meeting.
I had been able to avoid it in the past, but now I knew that I had to be involved if I was to consider this my business.
Since by the time all the meetings were finished, I pretty well knew the status of the business. I asked Jim why we went through this exercise. Why have a meeting?
“This is what a publicly held company has to go through every time they have their annual meeting.”
“But we aren’t publicly held.”
“Not at this time, someday it may be in your best interest to go public. This way we will be ready. Also, if the company is ever investigated, we can demonstrate that due diligence was being exercised.”
“If you say so, I'm just getting to hate meetings.”
“Unfortunately, a necessary evil.”
“And all these overheads, after a while they all run together.”
“Until there is a better way of showing charts and graphs, they will have to do.”
“Maybe these new chips will help us develop a method of creating them quickly and projecting them without all the heat.”
“That would be a powerful tool to make your points.”
“That’s what we will call it, PowerPoints.”
“I think you are getting ahead of yourself Rick but keep it in mind.
“I intend to.”
On the day of the business meeting, I was up early and got my run and exercise in. After that a good breakfast and a shower. I had a new suit, custom-made, from Hart, Shaffner, and Marx. It was dark blue with the finest red line running vertically.
We met in the small conference room for the Divisional meetings. The agenda allowed an hour each for Jackson Personal Products, Jackson Home Products, and the Entertainment Division. Jackson Transportation was in the afternoon.
First up was a review of Personal Products. The meeting room was set up with a sideboard with the usual coffee, tea, orange juice, bagels, and donuts.
I had coffee and a crème filled donut even though I had a large breakfast.
The new markets which we had opened in Brazil, Argentina, Peru, Columbia, and Chile had brought in ten million this past year. Way ahead of projections.
It looked solid overall in Africa, but hairdryer sales were still not doing as well as projected in South Africa. Market penetration had started in Egypt and Southern Rhodesia and was moving ahead. We still couldn’t get a foothold in Liberia.
Don had talked again to the Managing Director of the Firestone Plantation. Mr. Dawson was still helpful, but everything was held up by the corruption in the Liberian government.
We continued to refuse to pay the bribes requested. These were for large cash payments. I still supported our position.
Australia and the New Zealand markets were above projections which had been ambitious in the first place.
Europe was still spotty. The Mediterranean countries were still slow adopters while the Scandinavians couldn’t buy enough dryers and curling irons. We discussed spending more money on advertising in the Mediterranean countries but finally decided not to. A few ads weren’t going to change a culture.
The bottom line on the Division was that it was going to earn over twenty million dollars in profit this year, well over the sixteen million projected.
Mark and Sharon Downing flew in for the meeting. It was good to see them. Sharon had had her baby. They had left their new daughter with her mother.
For the newborn's gift, I had fully endowed a college fund.
The purchase of a competitor worked out nicely. The production facility and its infrastructure were filling the need for expansion. The old workforce found that our company was much better to work for. An attempt to unionize their location failed miserably.
The profit pace had been projected at six million. Instead, it would be seven. Mark’s sister's wails still could be heard all over the world.
The last before lunch, we reviewed the numbers of the Jackson Entertainment Division. The accounting group gave us dry numbers from movies and music.
We took a restroom break before the meeting and refreshed our coffee.
Chapter 6
Since I had no new movies out it was a review of past endeavors. This was from the failed surfer movie and revenues from; ‘Over the Ohio’. OTO, as we started calling it had done fantastically. It had set US box office records and had done the same when released overseas.
The cattle drive movie had been delayed because of some post-production problems.
On the movie front, it now looked like seventy million dollars which beat last year's projection of sixty million. The music from all songs had been projected at $400,000 but ended up near $300,000. There was hope for American Music after all.
Susan Wallace was still doing very well. Mr. Spiller had set me up as a silent partner in her talent agency and was kept informed. Even so, I kept my hands off and would continue to do so unless she called for help. By keeping informed I could step in if her pride stood in the way of asking for help.
It didn’t look like she would ever need it. I asked that she be approached to see if she wanted to buy me out. Not that I wanted out, but she might want all the fruits of her labor.
After lunch was Jackson Transportation as it was normally the longest review. It included the production of shipping containers, the Scottish Line, and Narrow Freight.
Once more they were asking for additional financing allowing them to grow even larger. I just thought last year's numbers were large.
Freight Forwarding was doing well after being spun off as a new and separate part of Jackson Enterprises. I still liked the FreightEx name for Freight Express but gave it up as a lost cause.
The Scottish Line had added four more ocean-going freighters at sixty million. I asked why it cost sixty million this year for four more ships when we only had to pay fifty million for four ships last year. It seems there was some inflation going on, that or the buy one gets one free sale was over.
The book value of the company was now well over one billion dollars. This year’s profits had been estimated to be two hundred and seventy-five million dollars, but instead, they were three hundred and ninety million.
Putting it all together I would make almost four hundred and fifty million dollars this year.
Jim Williamson gave the numbers his overseas Accounting Teams had recaptured for us. There was still no grand theft in under-reporting of royalties on the beer can pull tabs, but the nickels and dimes added up. The group more than paid for itself. We had wondered if we would need them all the time.
The answer was we needed the group permanently. This continued attention to the small details would prevent large thefts.
There were two new items on the agenda.
The R&D department's breakthroughs on IC Chips and their products were a major topic. The more we talked about the cost of getting into the manufacturing end, the better licensing sounded to me.
At this point, we had no way of estimating what we might make by licensing but there would be enough of a tax write-off that there would be no negative consequences from trying my three-step improvement process.
When asked about how I thought of doing it that way I told them that I had learned it in the gulag logging operations.
The forests were not a monolithic growth. There would be one team out identifying large and useful tree lots, then a team would prepare the logging site by cutting brush and making roads. The third team would do the actual logging.
Dad thought that was a good idea and maybe I should be sent back to a gulag every year to learn new processes. I didn’t think he was very funny.
The last item on the agenda was my idea of an airfreight line working from a hub concept. Instead of our last meeting where I wanted to go worldwide, I suggested a California test case.
When I presented my budget for the operation all the others were against it. I took what they said in stride. Rather than argue I would start a separate company without these naysayers. It wasn’t as though I didn’t have the money.
The only thing left was for the accountants to tell me if I would have anything left after the tax man took his share. Not only here in the US, but in all the countries we worked in.
Sam Wingate our corporate attorney had a tax accountant update me on my earnings and tax position.
I was still in the ninety-one percent marginal tax bracket and the only way I would ever get out of it was for the government to change the tax rates.
My three-million-dollar salary, oops, five million, so easy to forget what I make, wasn’t the real money. It was the company's profits. On those, I would owe over ninety million dollars. Of course, I would keep two hundred and seventy million.
I once more made a mental note to think about spreading my money around a bit. The US stock market was great but there were other markets around the world. I was serious about buying a lot of land in Australia.
At the end of the day, numbers were spinning in my head. It is a good thing I took a lot of notes and had copies of the presentations.
After the business meeting, which I deemed a success even though they disagreed with my Flying Express idea, we had dinner as a group at the Brown Derby. In the middle of dinner, I realized that we hadn’t discussed the Bank of Guangzhou. Probably not as it was a personal loan, not JE business.
It was a jovial bunch, which it should have been after the annual bonuses were announced.
Mister Wingate asked me, “Rick, did you see that looker that just came in.”
I hadn’t but I turned to check her out. She is gorgeous. Blonde, blue eyes, proportional breasts, and legs which went clear to the floor. She must be five foot ten inches. A good height for me.
I asked Mister Wingate if he knew her. He grinned while he stirred the sugar in his coffee.
“I believe she is Princess Olga Glucksburg from Denmark.”
“I wonder what she is doing here, not the restaurant; but the United States.”
“I met her father yesterday and had lunch with his family. He is interested in investing in American movies. I tried to discourage him, but I think he is doing it to get his new wife a part in a movie.”
He must have seen the confusion in my face as he added.
“She is a trophy wife. He has a lot of money, his first wife, Olga’s mother died many years ago, so he recently remarried. I’m not impressed with the new wife. I think she is a gold digger par excellence.”
“Is he a Prince then?”
“Yes, but he is not in line for the throne. That is a first cousin of his. Olga’s children will not continue the title. They will become barons or something like that.”
About that time the parents came in. I saw what Mister Wingate was talking about. Her father was distinguished-looking. His clothing was discreet but spoke of money. Olga’s stepmother was an outstanding representative of her class. Brassy beauty with a tinge of greed.
I bet Olga and her new Mom didn’t get along. Mum must have been five years older than Olga if Olga was my age.
I asked Mister Wingate if he knew Olga’s age.
“Nineteen this past month.
Perfect.
Then Mister Wingate asked me a question that made him a hero in my world.
“Would you like to be introduced to the young lady?”
Would I!
“Yes, I think I would like to get to know her.”
How I said that calmly I didn’t know, my heart was beating like a drum.
My new best friend Sam and I excused ourselves from the table, and he took me over and made the introductions. The parents first, then the daughter.
Dad was nice in a cool way. Her Mom was cold. That is until she put it together that I was Rick Jackson the actor. It did help that Sam mentioned that to her.
Then she couldn’t be warm enough, too warm if you asked me. She leaned over in such a way that I got a good look at her stock in trade, an enormous set of breasts.
It was my turn to be a little cool and remote and I told her it was my pleasure to meet her.
Sam my best friend in the world then introduced me to Olga. From the way she received me, I think she approved of the slight cut I gave her stepmother.
We talked inanely, at least I did, for a few minutes then returned to our table. My mind was whirling as to how I could get to know Olga better.
“Incidentally Rick, they are staying at the Beverly Hills hotel, if you wanted to call her.”
What a good friend! I could almost forgive him for being a lawyer.
Chapter 7
Later at home, in the library, Mum, Dad, and I had a conversation on an issue that had been bothering me for some time.
“Empress Ping was trying to find which gulag I was in and if she had found it, she would have sent forces in to pull me out. I have heard nothing about what you thought or were doing.”
Dad got a harsh look on his face.
“Rick, we were working with the US and British governments before that show trial to have you freed. It had become apparent early on who had kidnapped you.”
“After the show trial, the whole world was told you were dead. They even showed the firing squad shooting. They didn’t show your body.”
“To say your Mum and I were devastated is putting it mildly. We didn’t know what to do. We requested your body and kept getting a runaround.”
“CIA found out that you were still alive, as you were seen being walked out of that courtyard. All that had to be done was to find which train you were being put on. There it fell apart. The Russians lost you!”
“The people who kept the records of who was sent where thought you had been executed. They had no record of you being put on a train. It finally took Popeye working with the Russian mafia to establish that you had been put in a car that sat on a siding for two days.”
“There was no record of which train that car was attached to or where it went. It was as though that car didn’t exist in the system. Later we found that was the exact cause. It was a special car that the KGB used, and no records were kept.”
“We narrowed it down to seven different possible camps. We had people sent into every one of them. By the time we found out the one that you had been held in you were gone.”
“The camp was in an uproar. You had disappeared, the dogs couldn’t get your scent. It seemed you jumped off a cliff and went away.”
“Since that is what I did using a hang glider I’m not surprised they were confused.”
“After that, it was waiting to see if you got out.”
I looked at Mum, she appeared uncomfortable.
“Rick, I’m sorry if we appeared unfeeling, we were trying everything. Between MI6 and the CIA, they opened up the entire Soviet prison system. They found agents which they thought had been dead for years.”
“Well, that was a good thing.”
Dad spoke up, “Your Mum made a trip into Russia.”
“What for?”
“She questioned the head of the KGB gulag system as to your whereabouts.”
“And he didn’t know?”
“No, he wouldn’t talk.”
“Why is that?”
“Dead men tell no tales.”
“Ouch.”
“You don’t touch my children.”
“I like your attitude Mum, and I apologize for thinking that nothing was being done.”
“JFK was afraid we were about to start World War III over it. He pleaded that we didn’t do anything that could go public.”
“Public?”
“He told us to do whatever we had to do, but don’t get caught.”
“Always good advice, and I thought he didn’t care.”
“Rick, no matter the issues between our families he is the President of the United States and cares about all of his citizens.”
“All of them?”
“Except for a few major Republican donors of course.”
“Of course.”
“To change the subject, I saw a young lady at dinner tonight and Mister Wingate introduce us. I’m going to ask her to go on a date tomorrow.”
“Ah, the beautiful Princess Olga. We saw you staring at her most of the evening.”
“I was that obvious.”
Mum laughed as she poured more tea for herself.
“At least you were able to eat your soup without it dribbling on your shirt.”
“You think she noticed I was staring.”
“She must have, she had to be careful when she peeked at you. You both were quite funny to watch.”
“I hope her father didn’t take umbrage.”
Dad broke in, “He winked at me when we made eye contact.”
“Then he won’t be cleaning his weapons when I go to pick Olga up, that is if she will go out with me.”
“Oh no, he has bodyguards, they will be cleaning theirs.”
My Dad can be mean.
At that, we called it an evening and retired to our respective quarters. It took me a long time to get to sleep, thinking about what my parents must have gone through when I went missing. I also gave some thought to a blue-eyed blonde.
The next day after my morning rituals I called the Beverly Hills hotel and asked for the Glucksburg suite. I was put through to a secretary or bodyguard, not sure which.
“May I speak to Her Highness Princess Olga?”
“May I tell her who is calling?”
“I’m Richard Jackson the Duke of Hong Kong.”
“Hold one moment while I ask her if she is taking calls.”
Glad I brought out the Duke title, it sounded like I needed everything I had to even get past the secretary.
“Hello, this is Olga.”
“Princess, this is Richard Jackson, we were introduced at dinner last night.”
“Yes, I remember you.”
“I’m calling to see if you would like to go to dinner with me some night this weekend.”
“Only if it is to a real place that American teens go to, I’m so tired of formal dinners.”
“I know just the place; it is called the Hamburger Hamlet. It is a hangout of Hollywood High students.”
“That sounds delightful! Would Friday evening work for you?”
“Yes, it would, the sooner the better.”
Now, why did I say that?
“Okay, now I have to find out what American girls wear and not what is in the movies.”
‘I’m afraid I can’t help you there.”
“That is no problem. I will look at the Lady Mary collection in the latest catalog.”
“You know Mary is my sister?”
“No, I didn’t, I should just call her.”
Why can’t I learn to keep my mouth shut, Mary and my date, now what could go wrong there?
“Should I tell her to expect your call?”
“No silly, I know she is your sister, I was just teasing.”
“You got me good.”
“That is a woman’s job, keep the men guessing.”
And I asked her on a date?
“Rick, I have one serious request.”
“What is that?”
“My stepmother will ask for your help in getting into the movies. Don’t get involved with her in any shape or form. She is bad news, and I fear for father.”
“That is an easy promise to make. She rubbed me the wrong way as soon as I met her.”
“She is evil and hurts people because she thinks it is fun.”
Maybe I should have her call Mary, or better yet Mum. Well, not Mum, His Highness might not take well to being made a widower twice.
We agreed that I would pick her up Friday evening at six o’clock.
To make the week go faster I played several rounds of golf, went horseback riding, and even was able to surf on a good day.
Friday I was in a tizzy about what to wear. At five o’clock I came downstairs in a blue sport coat and chinos with a blue broadcloth button-down shirt.
Mum sent me back upstairs to put on jeans and a madras shirt. I tried to object but she was forceful. No one messes with Mum when she is forceful. I thought of a certain KGB head when I went to change my clothes.
All became clear when I met Olga in the lobby of the hotel. She was wearing jeans with a madras shirt, it was untucked and tied at her waist.
Gee, I wonder who had been talking to each other?
With the top down on the T-Bird and Paul Anka on the radio, I drove us over to the Hamburger Hamlet.
I wish I had given my choice of restaurants more consideration. The first person I saw was Nina sitting with Tuesday Weld.
I almost backed out, but Olga whispered.
“I know who she is. I read all the papers. Be nice and let’s have dinner.”
When we were seated, I managed to sit with my back to Nina. I didn’t want to make eye contact. I would have no idea what to say.
I didn’t have to say anything because Olga told me.
“They just left.”
“Good, that would have been a little awkward. Why I don’t know, she left me.”
“Would you want her back?”
“No, twice burnt and all that.”
We had an enjoyable dinner of cheeseburgers and fries. We also talked about our respective lives. We knew a lot of the same people, as we both traveled in some pretty high circles of society.
We took a long way home, and I got a kiss on the cheek when I walked her in.
It might have been more, but I recognized one of the bodyguards waiting for her.
Chapter 8
Olga and I spent Saturday at the beach. The surf was up, and she is an expert surfer. Seeing her in a bikini left me up.
We had a good time. We grabbed lunch at a taco stand. It seemed like we knew a lot of the same crowd. Not that I was friends with many of them. They were what I had been calling Eurotrash.
I would have to change my mind about several of them, but she agreed that many of them were worthless.
They were titled, rich, and bored with no direction. Rather than find something worthwhile to do, they drank, partied, and had a generally good time. They also were rude, obnoxious, and privileged.
If they got into trouble Mummy or Daddy would bail them out or cover up their wrongdoings.
I began to get uneasy feelings about Olga. Yes, she is beautiful, smart, and used to moving in better circles. She also knew too many in the wrong circles. Was she an observer or a participant?
It didn’t take long to sort it out. She had an invitation to a party in Beverly Hills at an actor’s house. I knew of him and his ways. I told her I had other plans.
She tried to get me to change my mind by telling me that the actor had the best drugs.
I still begged off, telling her I had a family event. I did it was called dinner and watching TV with the family. At dinner I related to my parents what I had learned about Olga, they agreed that she wasn’t good news.
I didn’t understand my little sister. She offered to show Olga one of her necklaces. Mum told her it wasn’t necessary yet. Made no sense to me, but whatever.
I did contact my Chief Pilot and told him I would like to fly to Oxford tomorrow. I was going to visit my Grand Mum and friends at the school.
The phone rang right after I finished arranging my flight in the morning. It was Olga. She told me that she had decided not to go anywhere tonight as it would be no fun without me.
She asked, “Do you have plans for tomorrow?”
“Yes, I have an early flight to England.”
“Are you running away from me?”
Coward that I am, I told her no.
“How long will you be gone?”
“About a week, I have to see some people and check in with the Coldstream Guards.”
I was making this up as I was talking. I hadn’t given any real thought as to what I would do in England. Though what I was telling her actually made sense.
“Can I come along?”
I am a coward.
“Yes, if you want to. I can’t guarantee any parties or a good time, this is semi-business.”
“Thank you, I have to get away from my stepmother. She is driving me crazy. She is convinced that I can talk you into getting a screen test.”
“I don’t know what gave her that idea.”
“She found out that you are invested in movies, so you can make things happen.”
“Be ready at seven, I will have a car pick you up at your hotel.”
“Will we be flying first class?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“Please be ready on time, we don’t want to miss the flight.”
“All right.”
I arranged for one of our limos to take us to the airport. She was ready and waiting in the morning. She had two large suitcases packed and ready to go.
When she realized that we weren’t heading into LA to catch a flight she asked where we were going. I told her the plane was in Ontario. She didn’t know where that was at.
By this time, we were pulling into the airport through the private aviation gate. We pulled up to the 707 which had the stairs out for us.
She had a look of confusion until she realized that the plane was in my colors with my coat of arms on the tail.
“I thought we weren’t flying first class.”
“We aren’t. This is much better.”
We settled in quickly and departed immediately. After that, I gave her a tour of the plane. She couldn’t believe that I had a duplicate wardrobe in the hold and that Harold traveled with me to care for it.
She became very friendly and somewhere over the Atlantic, I joined an exclusive club. Events just progressed until it happened. I learned a lot from Olga. She appeared to be a very experienced teacher.
Not what I had in mind for the first time, but no complaints.
I noticed that the stewardesses were very polite to her, but also cold and distant. They didn’t appear to approve of her.
Not that it was any of their business.
I spent a few hours in the cockpit adding to my flight hours. When I came back, I got the third degree from Olga. She knew that I was the Duke of Hong Kong and a movie actor but not much else.
I was open with her about my business ventures. She was very interested in what I was worth. Since I was proud of what I had accomplished I told her all. It’s not bragging if you have done it. I had done it.
I probably should have been a little more discreet about my net worth, but she is my love.
Changing my mind, I diverted the flight from Oxford to London. I didn’t want to spend the first few days of what I visualized as my honeymoon at my Grand Mums. Instead, I planned for us to stay at the hotel on the Strand.
She loved the hotel suite that was ready and waiting. I told her about my different properties around the world. She was impressed and let me know it in some very physical ways.
We didn’t leave the suite for two more days. Finally, we decided you could only spend so much time alone. So, we went sightseeing.
The next day I told her I had to check in with the Palace. She pouted that she couldn’t go along, but soon got over it.
I called Mr. Norman and told him I was in England and that I would like to see him. He told me he knew I had arrived three days ago. It appears my comings and goings are reported.
When I arrived at his office, we spent several hours going over my recent adventures. He told me that the Queen had followed the attempts to locate me closely. By asking to be updated it kept the pressure on to keep looking.
Daily reports were given about the trail I was leaving across Siberia. Most of it is by deduction. Who else would steal horses and rob banks and create general mayhem with a longbow? They never could catch up with me, but they could follow my trail. It was better than any James Bond movie.
I told him about the movie being made, “Escape from Siberia,” and my cameo appearance. He had a good laugh at that.
MI6 also had informed him about my venture into Laos. He told me, Good Show, but there couldn’t be official recognition for something that didn’t happen.
I replied that I preferred it that way.
He then directed the conversation in a direction I hadn’t seen coming.
“I understand that you are seeing Princess Olga Glucksburg.
“Yes, I am.”
I didn’t tell him she was in my hotel suite. I suspected he knew.
“Rick, for various reasons she nor her father will ever be received here at the Palace.”
I wish I handled the next part better. I told him that if she wasn’t welcome, then neither was I. He remained calm and told me that someday I would understand, and it was for the best if I didn’t see the Queen today.
I left the Palace in a huff. About halfway back to the hotel, I started to wonder why the Glucksberg’s weren’t welcome.
Later I even asked Olga about that, and she replied it was some silly financial issue. Before I could ask another question, I became distracted and forgot about it.
The next afternoon we drove up to Oxford and met my friends Tom, Steve, and Bill at our favorite pub. We had a good time telling stories. They were taken with Olga who was dressed to the nines, at least for a student pub in Oxford.
They vied with telling her stories about upside-down sailboats and license plates in Monaco. I was amazed that the disgraceful license plate affair had become a grand adventure.
They wanted to know if I was coming back to Oxford. I told them that I had no plans at this time. After a pleasant afternoon, Olga and I moved on to Grand Mums.
While we were riding in the limo over to The Meadows Olga told me that my friends were nice but a little plebeian for her and that in the future we would have to travel in the better circles.
That set off a second alarm. She didn’t care for my friends, and there was a silly financial issue in her background. I was sure it was nothing and that my friends would grow on her.
There Harold was waiting with our luggage. Having a valet was a good deal!
When I introduced Olga to Grand Mum it wasn’t the reception I was expecting. Grand Mum was polite but reserved. In turn, butter wouldn't have melted in Olga's mouth.
I asked Grand Mum if Queen Mum had visited recently. It turns out she had left this morning. She wouldn’t be back until after I was gone, mores the pity.
Not being completely dense I figured that some investigation was in order.
Chapter 9
The Princess and I were shown our rooms. Me to my own, and her to one in another wing of the house. Was Grand Mum trying to tell me something?
While Olga was changing clothes and freshening up, I place a call to the States. I knew who would have all the dirt by now.
“Mum, it’s Rick, have you learned anything about Olga and her family background that I should be aware of?”
She replied, “They have been chased out of Denmark and told never to come back. They will be arrested if they step foot in the country.
“By Danish law, they cannot lose their titles or citizenship, but the Danes are so mad they are considering changing the law. It is such an embarrassment that it has been kept out of the news.”
“This banning from the country includes the Princess. She and her father had gone through his inheritance, so they got a scheme going that defrauded a public pension fund. It was in the millions of dollars.”
“They lived high and wild while they could. When they were caught, they were broke again. I hope you enjoyed your flight and hotel stay but if you are smart you will run as fast as you can.”
That left me in a bit of a quandary. What to do tonight. I knew that Olga would expect me to knock on her door. If I didn’t, she would knock on mine.
If I didn’t answer her, she would raise a ruckus. I knew her well enough to predict her reaction. I took the easy way out and called her room.
When she answered I asked her directly if she and her father had been kicked out of Denmark for stealing from a pension fund, she admitted it with no shame.
I told her we were through, even though we had barely got started. She didn’t take it well. After the shouting I told her a car would be available to take her to the London airport and a ticket would be waiting at Icelandic Air.
She wanted to know why that airline, and I told her it had good connections. She would end up in LA.
What I didn’t tell her was that it would be a coach ticket. There would be an eight-hour layover in Reykjavik. She would have to change airlines in New York and that there would be another airline in Saint Louis with a four-hour layover. Petty, I know, but still fun to think of.
An acquaintance at Oxford had taken the flight from London to Reykjavik to New York with the layovers. His flight to Iceland also had a goat in the passenger cabin. One could only hope.
For myself, I had some bridges to mend, in the morning, after I was certain that she had left for the airport. First, I called Mr. Norman and let him know that I regretted the unkind words I had spoken.
I had finally smartened up and found out about her and her father. He accepted my apology. I did ask him why he didn’t tell me himself.
“Richard, one thing I have learned is not to be the one who exposes the feet of clay. Even though you are right, you are never forgiven.”
“It was my Mum who told me.”
“That is different, she has been telling you how wrong you are for your whole life, so you expect it of her.”
“You are right about that.”
“While you are still in England the Queen would like to see you tomorrow for lunch.”
“I’ll be there.”
I wondered if she would roast me.
Next, I ate crow with Grand Mum. She was nice about it, but you could tell she still thought I was a ninny. I knew that because she said so. It didn’t bother me, she called Mum that all the time.
I made some more phone calls and arranged to meet my friends at the pub this evening. I wanted to let them know that beauty isn’t everything. How I had dodged a bullet.
I shouldn’t have bothered. They thought she would have been worth it until the police hauled her away. Even when I explained she was only after my money they thought she would be worth a fortune or two.
The next day I met the Queen for lunch at the Palace. It wasn’t as though she could pop down to Mr. Treacher’s place with me and get some fish and chips. I even told her about them. She told me she would try some takeaway.
She didn’t mention my Danish Princess at all. She wanted to talk about Hong Kong. I gave her an update on the improved quality of their products with the help of Dr. Deming. Also, the marketing plans that are in place to highlight their products.
She thought this was wonderful and that it was a shame that it wouldn’t work in England. I asked her why and she told me that socialism had the country in a state of malaise.
No one seemed interested in getting ahead, just getting by. Those that wanted to get ahead were leaving England. They had what the newspapers called a brain drain going on. Soon only the mediocre would be left.
She then showed interest in my escape from the gulag. She assured me that the intelligence services were trying to get me free but were always a step behind me.
I did ask about my status as an aide to her. She wanted to continue that but realized that I couldn’t function as a Queen's Messenger. She still wanted me to keep the credentials for my airplane. It would be convenient for me, and if they ever did need my help urgently it would be in place.
After lunch, I returned to my hotel suite where I checked that the rooms had been cleaned and the sheets had been changed.
Now the truth was out about Olga I got the willies just thinking about her. I hoped I didn’t have any diseases. I had the hotel send a doctor to examine me, but it was too early for me to show any symptoms, so he just took blood and urine samples for examination. I later received an “All clear.”
The next morning, I boarded my 707 for the flight back to California. Mum had called and she wanted to borrow the plane to take her and Mary to New York City for an interview on the Tonight Show. I wondered how it would go with Mary on national TV. Nothing could go wrong, could it?
When I boarded the aircraft, the first question I had was about the sheets being changed. My Head Stewardess sniffed as she told me that the ones on the bed had been tossed. I didn’t know it was possible to sniff while talking. I thought it was only in stories.
On the flight home, I thought about the last week. I had almost become entangled with a fortune hunter who could have ruined me. At the same time, I learned about some new pleasures in life.
Overall, I would chalk it up as a win.
It would be some time before I would trust any newly met women.
The flight was a good one and I picked up some more flight time. That part of this trip was a winner.
When not on the flight deck I gave some serious thought about what I could do to help develop China and the newly acquired Siberian territories. There was no question that infrastructure had to be put in place. Especially roads.
In Siberia, there was no such thing as a through road or train track. That would be the number one priority for that area. The question was how to finance it and set it up to pay loans back.
China not only needed roads, but they need to move beyond subsistence agriculture in the provinces.
Then there was the setting up of my centralized airfreight delivery. I still wanted to have a trial in California. I would need to find someone to set it up.
More likely several. I was talking about a combination airline and local ground delivery service. I doubted if any single person had that combined knowledge.
I also needed to keep close tabs on the IC Chip development. Multiple fortunes were riding on that business. I didn’t want to mess it up.
Halfway across the Atlantic, I started kicking myself. I had been at The Meadows and hadn’t checked on how the excavations of the Roman fort were going. Oh well, the next trip.
Somehow, I had to visit Australia and see about purchasing land there. It was about the only civilized country where large swathes of land could be bought at reasonable prices.
With all that weighing on my mind, I took a nap. I had so many loose ends that I couldn’t keep track of them. I needed a plan and to stick to it.
Sure, I had plans in place when I went to play golf in Hong Kong. I remember someone made a quote about plans and life happening. That was me, stumbling from one thing to another.
Chapter 10
Upon arriving home, all those thoughts I had were gone out the window. While I was trying to make plans for the future, plans were being made for me.
Crown Prince Chia-Hao of China had been killed in an accident. I had to go to the funeral. His body would lie in state for a week, so I had time to get there.
As soon as we landed in Ontario, they started preparing the plane for a quick round trip to New York City. My sister was going to be interviewed on the Jack Paar show. Mum would be accompanying her as she was only eight years old.
I did send a telegram of condolences to the Empress on the death of her son, I also sent separate ones to his wife Ann and his two children Chun-Chieh and May-ling.
Queen Elizabeth sent me a telegram asking that I convey her condolences while her ambassador would give the formal message. That telegram had barely reached me when I received a call from the White House asking for the same assistance.
The one person I didn’t send a telegram to was the late Crown Prince’s brother, Prince Haoran. I detested the man and thought if any foul play were involved, he would be the instigator.
One thing I did accomplish in the next two days was to hire a search firm to find three people, one who knew the airline business, another for local ground freight operations, and a third that could act as the CEO for both operations.
I also asked Jim Williamson to see if we had any contacts in Australia who knew someone in large property real estate. I was interested in anything over five hundred thousand acres.
Between that and catching up with my family I was busy the next few days. I did read a story in the LA Times about the Glucksburg family being deported back to Denmark. It appears they were involved in fraudulent activity in Hollywood.
Sometimes you get lucky.
That weekend Mum had another one of her many charity fundraisers. I was drafted as an escort for any young lady, as yet to be named, who was brought along by her parents without a dinner date.
This dinner was being held inside instead of being an informal cookout. That meant I had to dress up. I thought about my full uniform rig but decided that was too much. To tell the truth, Harold was the one who convinced me that it was too much.