Field of Blackbirds by Clayton Jeppsen & Lindsey Jeppsen (best ebook reader ubuntu .txt) 📕

were owned. He certainly didn’t want to make a career out of defending General Pec after each of his conquests. His conscience told him that he had to sever ties tonight.
General Pec called a taxi for Nikola and stayed with him until it arrived. When he returned, he sat at a table at the far end of the restaurant and motioned Radenko to join him. Radenko made a wise decision to stay, considering the fact that General Pec was still a superior officer, even if he wasn’t in Radenko’s chain of command.
General Pec was a stout man in his late fifties. He had salt and pepper hair, mostly salt, that receded at the corners. He had a large nose and large ears and a square jaw with a round chin. The permanent creases between his eyebrows made it appear as though he were constantly analyzing you, trying to figure you out. When Radenko made it over to the table, he didn’t sit down right away.
“Thank you for the invitation General. The food was excellent. I look forward to seeing you again.”
Radenko extended his hand. He only hoped that his departure could be that easy.
“Sit down Radenko. I know you’re uneasy. You’ve heard an earful tonight. If it makes you feel better, you can bill the State for the extra time.”
Radenko knew General Pec disapproved of his eagerness to leave.
“Radenko, I know your father. I’ve worked a long time with him. If times were different, he could probably be the next Josip Broz Tito. But those days are gone. Serbia is headed in a different direction now. Your father is nearing retirement; I know he would want someone to lookout for you.”
“With all due respect Sir, my father is not ready to retire. And I think I will do just fine on my own accord. I appreciate your concern.”
Radenko knew he was walking close to his grave, but he didn’t feel he could set sail in the same direction as General Pec and his shipmates.
“Radenko, you have potential. You are smart. I hope you can make the right decisions. I’m trying to offer you your future.”
General Pec tossed back the last of his drink. Their conversation mixed like oil and water. He didn’t like General Pec taking claim to his future. It made his blood boil. He felt like he was being offered the same job he already had. He was already doing what he wanted to do. After two years of service, Radenko was going to open his own firm. He didn’t want a career in the military.
Without fully reviewing the repercussions of his actions, Radenko avowed, “Sir, my future is not in your hands, it is in my own. I haven’t been assigned under your command. I will serve where Milosevic needs me, where Serbia needs me.”
General Pec bore a look of pure disdain and contempt, appearing to sear out Radenko’s image. Then he took a napkin from the table, patted his lips and stood up,
“Milosevic believes in showing respect to your commanding officers.”
Then Radenko stood up. “Milosevic also believes in justice. Is that what happened in the courtroom the other day?”
General Pec formed another look, not easily forgotten, one sure to have its way with Radenko’s conscience.
“Counselor,” General warned, “You are wrong about your future not being in my hands. You can leave now.”
Radenko prepared for the worst. He went against his father’s wishes to be careful, and careful, he was not. But he had his integrity, his honor, candor if you will, and he felt good about that. He took another moment to admire the painting of Christ again, then, he left the restaurant.


Chapter 10 - North Atlantic Treaty Organization


Mons, Belgium 1992

“Sgt. Beckly, I need you in my office in ten minutes!” ordered Lieutenant Samuel Clay.
The Lieutenant walked briskly past Reed toward the Commander’s office. He was balancing a large stack of papers that was ready to topple over. Reed only spent two months in Hamburg before his Marine Corp unit was assigned to the Intelligence Bureau at NATO headquarters in Mons Belgium. They were to assist in reconnaissance. Reed and Lindsey didn’t get their hopes up for leave after Basic Training and rightfully so, Reed shipped off to Hamburg directly afterward.
Reed had been in Belgium now for six months and had already promoted to Sergeant. He wasn’t particularly happy about the assignment to NATO. He always doubted their relevance and wasn’t sure they were qualified to be the World’s military. However, Reed did recognize the bright side of the arrangement. He would remain under U.S. command and the living standards in the NATO compound were superior to the U.S. military bases he was used to.
Reed slipped into the bathroom to check his appearance. His nametag was shined and in place. His tie and ‘gig-line’ were straight. He got some toilet paper from a stall, folded it and buffed the tip of his boots.
Reed was a few minutes early when he knocked on the Lieutenant’s door. No one answered so he let himself in and had a seat. Lieutenant Clay had a nice view of the city. You could see the entire skyline broken with trees, old buildings and church spires. The sun was just beginning to set. Reed had never seen a place so beautiful in his entire life. The castles and all the visible history was his favorite. He promised Lindsey they would return there together sometime.
Reed glanced around the office. The Lieutenant had photos of his family everywhere. He was obviously very proud of them. He had a beautiful wife and three boys that looked exactly like him.
Lieutenant Clay was of medium-build, but in good physical shape. He had a perfect hairline with hair that was coarse, dark brown and fuzzy, but it all seemed to be going in the same direction, toward his left shoulder. From the top corners of his head, down to his ears was skin tight. His eyes were a definite brown and were proportionately set under a confident brow. He had a square jaw that would manifest a five-o-clock shadow at three-o-clock.
“Sergeant, make yourself at home!”
The Lieutenant burst into the office. He seemed rushed but he made time to laugh at his own joke. The Lieutenant walked over to the window and pushed it open.
“Mmm, you smell that? Coal; call me strange but I love the smell of it! Well Reed, let’s cut to the chase. These directives you see on my desk have come down from the top. That’s right. You’re looking at Bill Clinton’s, John Hancock.”
Reed was curious where the Lieutenant was headed with this.
“There is a report that Slobodan Milosevic of Serbia has ordered mass exportation of Albanian Nationals from the Kosovo region. There is also report of a mass grave next to the town of Slatina. The President wants to know if this information is accurate; if Milosevic is using his military to carry out any of these orders. The reports are coming from a ‘No fly’ zone so we don’t have any air reconnaissance. We’re going to have to go in on foot. If these reports have any truth to them,” Lieutenant Clay poked his forefinger on the stack of papers, “Then Sergeant, we could be dealing with Genocide. Now, Slobodan Milosevic is well regarded by the Serbs. They refer to him as the “Sun of Serbia”. He has promised to restore pride and glory back to Serbia. The same glory they once owned during the midevil ages. He is also being compared to a great prince that lived during that time, Prince Lazar. He fought the Ottoman Empire out of Serbia; to the Serbs, the Albanians are remnants of that empire. Shortly after World War Two, Croatia, with the help of Italy committed genocide on the Serbs. And nobody stepped in for the Serbs. So they’re ripe for revenge. It’s the last thing we need, more turmoil in Yugoslavia.”
This sounded interesting to Reed. He had been anxious for an assignment since his promotion. Even though he was in intelligence gathering, he had heard nothing of what the Lieutenant was talking about. He knew that Serbia was the largest part of Yugoslavia but he hadn’t yet heard of Milosevic. Recently, Reed had been monitoring the Sunni movements by the Iraqi-Kuwaiti border.
“Lieutenant, are you asking me to be your eyes and ears over there?” Reed looked up from the paperwork on the desk.
“I’m asking you to do a lot more than just that, Sergeant. It’s much more involved. The United States cannot be caught taking any military action in the Balkans this early in the game. It would ignite immediate civil unrest and worldwide backlash. The CIA claims their guys don’t have the survival training necessary for the assignment. This is a mission that even the United Nations won’t stamp with their approval. But if genocide is happening, we need that Intel. We cannot look the other way.
To carry out this assignment, you have to relinquish your military status. You have to be decommissioned, even before the planning starts. If you need time to think about it, I’ll understand and if you decline, well, I won’t hold it against you. I can’t order you to do this. The mission will be solely voluntary.”
Confused, Reed stood up and moved a little closer to the Lieutenant, who was leaning against the windowpane with his arms crossed.
“I don’t understand Lieutenant. I’ve never heard of anything like that. If something was to go bad, what kind of protection would I have, what kind of reinforcements would I get?”
“I understand your concern Sergeant.” The Lieutenant gazed out the window. “I’m unsure about it myself, but after today you can start calling me, Sam. I also agreed to be decomm’d. If you accept, you will be in charge of the mission, but I refused to make you carry all the weight on your own. As far as protection, the Commander has given me his word that we will have whatever we need. He said an account has been set up through a private donation that will cover all operational or medical expenses that we may accrue.”
Reed sat back down and positioned the stack of papers in front of him.
“May I?” he inquired.
“Go right ahead Reed. You might discover as I did, why this mission has value.”