The Chameleon Soldier: NOW AS AN ALIEN BLUE HE CANNOT DIE. by D.B. Silvis

we’ll be sad to see you leave,” said Peter.
    He and other members of the family stood up, came over to Killian and hugged him. There were tears in everyone’s eyes.
    Early the next morning, after breakfast, Killian handed Peter the title to his 1940 Chevy pickup.
    “Take good care of my truck, Peter. It’s been good to me over the years.”
    Kip and Killian left for the airport.
    A short time later, they were onboard a plane heading for Washington, D.C. As they sipped on cocktails, they discussed the possibility of Killian getting involved with the CIA’s Special Operations Group.
    “Killian, are you one hundred per cent sure you want me to meet with the CIA’s Deputy Director of Plans, William Spencer, who’s the head of the Specialized Skilled Officers unit?”
    “Kip, it seems to fit what I’m best at doing. You know I want to serve my country.”
    Kip didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. “There is something we haven’t discussed.”
    Killian turned in his seat and faced his friend. “What?”
    “Once I’ve talked to Director Spencer and discussed with him the possibility of his engaging the group we’ve fabricated, and he agrees to do so, then our present friendship, to a large degree, will be curtailed.”
    “Why?”
    “Because, Killian, as soon as I strike an agreement with them on your behalf I will be under constant surveillance. Remember, part of our deal with them is that they won’t have any contact with you. Their only contact will be through me. I know them. They’re going to try to find out who I’m dealing with.”
    “You’re right. I hadn’t thought about that. They’re going to be watching you like a hawk.”
    “That’s for damn sure. They’ll bug my phone, office, apartment, car and anything else that might lead them to you, or I should say the group we’ve invented.”
    For a short time they lapsed into silence.
    “So have you come up with a way for us to communicate?” asked Killian.
    “Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about it. I may have the answer.”
    “Okay. What is it?”
    “Well, Director Spencer is friends with my parents and my grandfather. He’d never suspect either of them of helping me to conceal your identity. You need a place to live, and you’re very good with horses. You’ll live at my grandfather’s ranch in Virginia, and be a part-time trainer for his racehorses. The old man will get a kick out of being involved in the security of our mission. I go home to Virginia quite often, now more than ever, since I met a woman who’s the daughter of one of our neighbors.”
    Killian looked at him. They both smiled.
    “You didn’t tell me about her, Kip. Is it serious?”
    “It’s leaning that way.”
    Killian grinned. “Good. You need someone to settle you down.”
    They laughed.
    “I believe if you’re working part-time at the ranch, it will be a perfect cover. Director Spencer would never expect it, and I can make casual contact with you whenever necessary.”
    “It all makes sense. It’s a good plan. Now tell me more about this new woman in your life.”

CHAPTER 8

    U pon their return to Washington, D.C., Congressman Kipling Smith called the CIA’s Deputy Director of Plans, William Spencer, and made an appointment to meet with him in three days. Then he and Killian drove down to his grandfather’s ranch in Virginia. When they pulled into the driveway Killian pointed to the wrought iron archway that spelled ZS RANCH .
    “Zachary Smith, my grandfather,” said Kip.
    They pulled up next to the ranch house in time for Kip to catch sight of his grandfather getting out of the long rectangular pool. Zack waved to them as he started to towel off. They got out of the car, and walked over to the pool.
    “Hey, Kip, it’s good to see you! Who’s that strong-looking man you’ve got with you?”
    “He’s your new trainer.”
    Kip’s grandfather shot him a curious look.
    “I want you to meet my good friend, whom I’ve often told you