The Four Horsemen

THE FOUR HORSEMEN

by

J. H. Rowan

Llanos Publishing, LLC, for the Smashwords Edition of e-books

THE FOUR HORSEMEN

Copyright 2000 by John Rowan

All rights reserved. Written permission must be secured from the author to use or reproduce any part of this book, except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

1. New York City 2. late 20th Century fiction 3. Vietnam 4. detective police work

Printed in the United States of America

Author: J.H. Rowan (John Rowan)

The Four Horsemen

-----

ISBN: 9781301191800

Printed in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3

Llanos Publishing, LLC January 2013

INTRODUCTION

From the lips of a veteran police officer to the ears of a bright-eyed rookie, the following legend is usually spoken no louder than a whisper in police cars throughout the city.

Like many legends, it is a fantasy that has manifested itself over years; years that have seen the authority of the police diminish and at the same time, its press becomes more hostile. This legend is a response to this lack of authority and respect that police in our society receive today. They find comfort in speaking of a time when the police officers walked supreme through our society. So for the first time outside of law enforcement circles, THIS IS THE LEGEND OF THE FOUR HORSEMEN.

* * *

CHAPTER 1

DOWN FIFTH AVENUE, OVER THE sea of blue, came three helicopters flying at treetop level in the missing man formation. Johnny sat up straight in the saddle as the words Detail, Attention! came from the speaker on top of the truck. He maintained a strange gaze in his eyes as the coffins of his two friends passed. He heard that awful music from the bagpipes playing the funeral march and he started to recognize that old feeling that he had not experienced since the war, one of fear, pain, and death. As a teardrop passed from his face, time seemed to slow down and his mind began to wander: How did I get here – How did I ever become a cop in NYC. As he was wondering why his teardrop had not yet landed on his boot, the helicopters passed over with their thunderous roar. The sound of their rotor blades triggered a flashback for Johnny. The thunder of helicopter can still be heard except now it is New Year’s Eve, 1968.

Johnny was being transported in a Huey helicopter to a Firebase in Vietnam that sent out a distress call for reinforcements. He was a Green Beret back then and he didn’t pay much attention to the Vietnamese calendar for this day was their New Year’s Eve. Tomorrow would start the New Year of Tet. The North Vietnamese would celebrate this holiday by launching the Tet Offensive – a series of disparate attacks designed to overrun and wipeout the American presence in South Vietnam. The next several weeks would bear witness to the most brutal fighting of the war and cost thousands of American lives. He stood about six feet tall with his boots on and had rugged, chiseled, all-American features. He had green eyes and black hair, and couldn’t have been more than twenty-two years of age. He was from Queens, New York where he grew up somewhat sheltered, with typical middle class values. He preferred athletics to chasing women; listening to speaking.

Johnny was in the company of Tony, Jose, and four others. They were wearing their green camouflage uniforms with Black Tiger stripes and because this was a marine Firebase all the men in his squad chose to put on their berets instead of their helmets. They wanted the marines to know that it was the Green Berets that were coming to the rescue. As the trees cleared, they could see the firebase called Cobra. It was a small hilltop that had been flattened out and fortified. As they came into the landing zone, they could see men scurrying like moles from one hole to another in an attempt to avoid enemy fire.

When the chopper neared the firebase, the co-pilot turned his head and shouted to Tony, The LZ’s hot and we won’t be touching down. We’ll drop you in as close as we can. The men prepared themselves for this all too familiar drop, one that they had executed many times in the past as part of the Special Forces Mobil Action Air Cavalry Unit. They were used to being dropped into firefights where even the best pilots couldn’t land. The last man was barely out of the door before their chopper sped away and a new chopper arrived. The squad scrambled from the landing zone toward a wall of sandbags some forty feet away. While they were enjoying the shelter of the sandbags, Captain Joe Anderson, the Commanding Officer of Firebase met them. Joe, a thirty-five year old native of Springfield, Illinois stood six-four. The men squatted down behind the wall.

With the thunder of the third and final helicopter unloading its human cargo in the background, amid all the dust and even some incoming rocket fire, the captain gave a situational update. The mission of this firebase was to prevent the enemy from utilizing an old supply path, unused since the French were there, that was located one ‘click’ (or kilometer) beyond the northern perimeter. He further stated This area used to be a very quiet place up until two days ago when the North Vietnamese started to put sniper fire and attempt to push men and supplies through the path.

Captain Anderson told Tony I had requested a company of 128 men to reinforce this base. Where is your commanding officer? Tony only stood about five feet eight inches tall but looked much larger. By the way he carried himself most would have assumed he was at least six-foot, two inches. He had dark features, a well-groomed mustache, and a propensity for losing his temper, but in Vietnam that was not considered a vice – it was considered an asset. He was only twenty-eight years of age, but considering that the average soldier in Vietnam was nineteen, he was regarded as middle age. Tony, who spoke with a Brooklyn accent, had a habit of putting a cigar in his mouth when the shit hit the fan, but he rarely ever lit it. With a grin, Tony replied This is it, they could only spare three squads, and I am the most senior non-commission officer. He further informed the captain that there was activity all over this sector.

Tony leaned over and took a good look around. The captain went on to describe the defenses of the base. Not far from the center of the Firebase were three deep foxholes and within each pit was a large mortar with men feverishly lying on an artillery barrage that was impacting in the jungle, deep beyond the perimeter. He turned to the captain and said, Captain, this is my third tour here and we have bailed out many fire bases in the past. I suggest that you have the mortar crews stand down because right now, all they’re killing are mosquitoes and time and we will need all that ammo when it gets dark. It seems they’re only prodding your defenses for weakness and hoping that we expend all of our artillery shells before their main attack that will probably not come until after dark.

The captain smiled and for a brief minute, one could see the relief in his face as he realized he was in the company of someone who had been through this before. The captain heard Tony’s words but did not acknowledge his advice. He stated that he wanted Tony’s three squads to reinforce a machine gun position on the northern perimeter. Jose and Johnny would later discover that the men who had manned this position earlier this morning had all died as a result of a mortar shell.

As Tony was about to move his squads into the northern perimeter, a figure could be seen darting from one fallout shelter to the next. The captain called him over and introduced him as Lieutenant Livingston of Oakland, California, the second in command of this firebase. Livingston had a pencil thin mustache, and sandy blonde hair that was more dark than light. He was in his late twenties. Livingston was known for his chameleon/weasel type personality and few remember any other distinguishing features about him. One could see the anger in Tony’s eyes as both of the men just grunted at each other. Tony knew Lieutenant Livingston’s reputation all too well, but this was no time for arguments – This was war.

The captain stated, Sergeant, I’m going to give you the Claymore Detonator.

Tony nodded his head as Lieutenant Livingston protested, The Claymore Detonator that’s my job.

Without waiting for further protests, Tony stated, Follow me and led his squads into the gun positions on the northern perimeter.

The gun placements were trenches covered with large slabs of concrete. In the front, the earth had been dug out so that a fifty-caliber machine gun could be placed facing downhill. As the men took their post, Johnny said, Well, we might as well get used to this. We are going to be here for a few days. Jose inspected the trench. He had a tan complexion and told everyone that he was five, eight but was really closer to five, seven. He had black hair and brown eyes and a toughness that not even the Special Forces could teach. He left a wife and two young boys back home in the South Bronx. He was only twenty-four years of age but acted much older as a result of his early marriage and fatherhood.

You could smell not only the earth, but also the stench of burnt flesh – a remnant of the fate of the previous inhabitants. Jose turned and said with his thick Spanish accent, This is as good a place as any to die. With that, Tony took out his field glasses and began to examine what lay beyond. On the perimeter lay a series of trenches and foxholes with mountains of razor ribbon covering the landscape. Beyond that were the Claymore mines, a quarter mile of nothing but scorched earth and then the jungle where Charlie lived.

A few hours later, the men were receiving some small arms fire from the jungle. A Corporal came running into the trench and screamed for Tony to come to the command bunker. Tony grabbed his M-16 and scurried out of the trench. More shells were finding their targets inside the perimeter. Tony and the Corporal zigzagged their way to the command bunker. The bunker was dug out of the ground and had reinforced walls made from sandbags. Its ceiling was reinforced by large lumber beams and was covered with two feet of earth above it. A large radio sat on top of a table against one wall illuminated only slightly by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling that shook with each incoming mortar shell.

The captain was finishing a conversation over the radio by saying, That’s great. That’s just fuckin’ great and then he threw the headset. He turned to Tony, The only thing this small firebase had going for itself was that fire base Kaeson was only eleven miles south of this position and could give constant artillery support. Now I just got off the wire with them and they’ve got problems of their own. It seems that they’re under a rocket attack and are bracing for an assault and are unable to give us any artillery support.

The captain looked away, took a deep breath, the captain turned back and stared into Tony’s face, That’s not the half of it. Two Cobra gunships just called in that they spotted a large enemy force crossing the Chun River just three miles north of here and you can bet they are on their way to pay us a visit.

Tony’s face tightened with this news as he replied, The only way we are going to stay alive without artillery is with constant air strikes. Without saying a word, one could tell from the expression on the captain’s face that this wasn’t going to happen.

Tony turned and said softly, I have to get back to my men.

Upon arriving back at his position, Johnny asked, What was that all about?

Tony replied, He wanted to let us know that we are going to have company. The sun was setting and Tony knew it wouldn’t be long now. He wondered if he would ever see the sun again. They didn’t’ have to wait long for things to pick up. A few minutes later an eight man Recon Squad returned to the Firebase. Soon word spread that they came across a village four miles west where all the inhabitants were forced by the North Vietnamese Army to build hundreds of coffins. This meant that the N-V-A were expecting large casualties and were willing to pay any price to wipe out firebase. When Captain Anderson ran out of the command bunker to meet and debrief the Recon Squad, Lieutenant Livingston knew that this was his only chance. He quickly made his way into the command bunker, grabbed hold of the radio mike and yanked it out of the hand of the radio operator. He stated in a rush, Cobra Base Executive Officer to Kaeson – over.

Kaeson replied, We read you, Cobra Base X-O.

Lieutenant Livingston then stated, Kaeson, we are prepared to E-Vac all personnel from Cobra Base to Kaeson as soon as you send the choppers in – over.

There was a pause before Kaeson replied; I have no orders for a bug out for your command at this time – over. Just then, with a loud thud an incoming missile exploded not far from the command bunker. As a puff of dirt came down from the ceiling, the lieutenant started to panic.

Well, listen to me you little shit. I’m giving you an order to commence an immediate E-Vac on this Firebase. Do you understand me? – over.

There was another long pause, and then a new voice could be heard coming from Kaeson.

This is Major Whyan, who is requesting a bug out?

The lieutenant replied in a much smoother tone, X-O firebase Cobra we are ready for an immediate E-vac of this Firebase as soon as you give the order, Sir – over.

Where is your C-O? Over, was Kaeson’s reply. There was a thud from an incoming missile.

The lieutenant stated, "The C-O is unavailable. At this point, Livingston started to lose it, he was sweating profusely, and the muscles in his face started to twitch.

We are facing overwhelming enemy forces and need to be e-Vac’d out of here A-S-A-P over, he shouted.

Major Whyan replied, Negative, Negative your orders are to defend in place. Do you read me? You will sit.

Livingston cut in, Defend in place…defend what? A thud made him stop. This place won’t be a speed bump for the N-V-A when they come running out of the jungle.

Now the major cut in, Lieutenant, you are dangerously close to insubordination. Now, I’m not used to having to explain strategy to a subordinate but your command fits into a larger picture.

A larger picture, the lieutenant exclaimed. We don’t control one single square mile of jungle in this country but this muddy hill top that – that you are willing to sacrifice all our lives for. May I remind you, Major—There was a thud, and the room trembled and filled with dust and smoke. A small firebase was never designed to hold off a frontal assault. Our mission is to cut off a small supply route.

Your mission is to win this war! the major yelled. Now I’m ordering you to defend that muddy hill top to the last man and that includes you, lieutenant. There will be no further discussion in regard to a bug out – Sempe Fi over and out.

THUD------------------THUD--------------------------------------------THUD

The lieutenant had a strange gaze in his eyes. He stared blankly at the mike in his hand as the sweat, mixed with dust and dirt ran down the side of his face, landing on his hand and the mike. The mixture looked more like blood than sweat. As this dark fluid ran across his knuckles and fell to the dusty hot floor it immediately evaporated. Livingston sensed this was just another omen indicating his impending doom.

The radio operator (R.O.), who was still surprised by the lieutenant’s conversation said, The captain is going to be pissed about this.

This brought the lieutenant out of his daze. He quickly snapped, Well, he is going to be more pissed because I’m getting the fuck out of here.

The R.O. then stepped closer to Livingston and grabbed him by the top of his flak jacket and said, Don’t be crazy. This place is surrounded by Claymores and it’s not like these grunts look at you as their favorite officer. If you try and go over the wire, they’ll shoot you so many times that you will jangle when you hit the ground.

The lieutenant stared down at the dusty floor once again. Then in a monotone voice he said, I can’t believe we’ve been sentenced to death over this shitty firebase that has already been scheduled to be dismantled and abandoned a month from now. He pulled away from the R.O. and stormed out of the command bunker.

Shortly after dark, to their amazement, the men could hear the thunderous roar of helicopters passing directly over their position. They watched as three Cobras zoomed passed their northern perimeter and unleashed their ordinance of rockets deep in the jungle. While all the men began to cheer, Tony who was staring through his binoculars became enraged and uttered, They’re dropping it in the wrong place! Who the fuck is calling this air strike in?

With an M-16 in hand, Tony ran from the gun position to the command bunker. When he arrived there, he screamed, That air strike just missed Charlie by a mile.

The R.O. appeared quite shaken.

Tony asked, Where’s the captain?

The R.O. pointed to a table against the far wall. On the table was a body covered by a sheet with one hand dangling down. The Captain fell victim to a sniper’s well-placed bullet.

Tony just replied sarcastically, Could things get any fucking worse? He then asked a private that was present, Where is Livingston?

The private replied, We haven’t seen Lieutenant Livingston in hours.

Tony snapped, Well, find him and bring him here. Now!

The private immediately ran out of the safety of the bunker in search for the lieutenant.

Who’s on the radio? Tony asked.

Kaeson. replied the R.O.

Tony grabbed the radio away from the R.O. and shouted, Kaeson, Kaeson, can you read me?

The voice on the other end asked, What designation is calling?

Tony turned to the R.O. who replied, Cobra Base.

Tony then started again, Cobra Base to Kaeson.

The voice on the other end replied, Go ahead Cobra Base.

Tony, with a sense of emergency, started to shout into the microphone, We need an Airborne Fire Support on our northern perimeter forthwith. The last one missed the target by a mile.

The voice said once again, What are the co-ordinates?

Tony again turned to the R.O., who was holding a map in his hand, Give me that fucking map!

The R.O., noticing Tony was looking at it upside down, decided to help him by saying, Where do you want it?

Tony replied, Just on the northern perimeter where the jungle begins. They’re right beyond our wire.

With the R.O.’s help, Tony gave the co-ordinates for the air strike. Tony stressed, We need this forthwith, do you read me? Forthwith!

The radio voice replied, That’s affirmative Cobra Base but be advised the whole sector has become active.

At that point, Tony lost it. Don’t give me no shit Kaeson. If this strike isn’t forthwith, the next time I call you I will be speaking in Vietnamese. Do you read me? He took the microphone, threw it back to the R.O., and said, You talk to him.

Tony went outside and climbed a ladder to the top of a small observation tower. From behind the wall of sandbags, he strained his eyes searching the northern darkness. He reached into his pocket. While staring through his binoculars, he took out a slightly used cigar and stuck it in his mouth. Finally, the private located Lieutenant Livingston huddled in the back of a supply bunker.

Lieutenant, the private shouted, You are wanted in the command bunker. The captain’s dead and you are needed to take command.

The lieutenant, who had his head in his hands, replied, I’ll be there in a minute.

The private tried to stress the immediacy of the situation by saying, You are needed on the double Lieutenant.

The lieutenant snapped back, God damn it! Did you hear me private? I’ll be there in a minute!

The private turned to make his way back to the command bunker. Due to the incoming shells, a hundred yards would take a few minutes to navigate. When he did arrive, he screamed up to Tony, who was still in the tower, I’ve found the lieutenant.

Tony, who could hardly hear the private, made him repeat it twice. Tony said, Is he coming?

The private replied, When he is ready. Without any further inquiry, the private added, But that won’t be till after the battle I’m sure. Having completed his task, the private ran off to take his position on the northern perimeter. Soon the all too familiar sound of helicopter blades could be heard once again flying directly over their position.

Livingston now made his way above ground to a machine gun nest. There, resting against a wall of sandbags was a dead marine and a large pair of binoculars mounted to the wall. Livingston quickly shoved the dead marine to the ground and stared apprehensively through the binoculars, awaiting the impending air strike. Once again, there were three helicopters. The first two broke off and made their attack by firing numerous rockets and strafing with machine gun fire. The R.O. who was in the command bunker now joined Tony in the tower.

He stated to Tony, That’s right on target.

Tony quickly replied, Yeah, it is, except we need B-52s, not Cobras.

Then the third helicopter closed in for its attack. It dropped several huge canisters of napalm that lit up the northern sky. While it may have eliminated many VC soldiers, its illumination made it possible for all to see the outline of thousands of enemy soldiers waiting at the edge of the jungle for the order to attack. While the entire command let out a moan, Tony’s cigar fell from his mouth and Livingston grabbed his chest. Livingston started to hyperventilate and fell back against the wall behind him. A moment later an incoming helicopter could be heard. The lieutenant remembered that the captain had put in an early request to have the injured E-vacated out.

Livingston, realizing that this was his only chance for survival, threw off his Flak jacket drew his 45-caliber gun, pointed it to his left shoulder, closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. There was a puff of dust as the gold and blue flash lit up his silhouette. He let out a slight scream as the air around him filled with a bloody mist. He climbed out of the machine gun nest and made his way to the landing zone.

In the chaos of that night, the wounded had not been moved to the landing zone and were still in the medical bunker. Tony turned to the R.O., What is the chopper doing here?

The R.O. then relayed the captain’s earlier request. When Tony looked over, he could not believe his eyes. Instead of the wounded marines, he could see Lieutenant Livingston on top of the landing zone waving the helicopter in. Just to make sure that he wasn’t hallucinating, Tony gave it a second glance with his binoculars. Completely outraged, Tony shouted, What a piece of shit!

Tony jumped from the observation tower and started running as fast as his feet could take him to the landing zone. The helicopter was hovering about two feet off the ground over the LZ. The large door swung open. Inside were a machine gunner and a medic.

The medic stated, Where are the wounded?

Livingston quickly replied, They’re all dead. I’m the only one. With that, he hopped up and catapulted himself into the Huey.

The pilot, who was somewhat surprised, stated, We are here to E-vac all the wounded.

Livingston snapped, I’m telling you that I’m it and I am ordering you to take off now! At that point, the pilot started full throttle. As the helicopter was gaining altitude, Tony could be seen screaming at the top of his lungs and waiving his 45-caliber in their direction.

The co-pilot looked over his shoulder and asked the machine gunner, What is wrong with him?

I don’t know, but he is pissed about something.

Livingston, who had now secured himself all the way in the back replied, He is crazy! He is just crazy!

The pilot, feeling that he had already stayed too long, took off.

Tony ran back to the command bunker and he found the R.O. on the radio trying to make contact with the helicopter. Tony once again pulled the microphone away and without saying anything, the R.O. said, Their designation is Firefly-1.

Tony started to scream, Cobra Base to Firefly-1. Firefly-1, do you read me?

A reply came, Go ahead Cobra Base.

Tony shouted,