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

and that spirited and spunky grandfather of yours?”
    “They’re just fine. Always on the go, as usual.”
    “That’s good! Now, on the phone, you said you had something you thought would be of great interest to me.”
    “Yes, sir, I do. I’m aware that five years ago a covert wing, called the Office of Policy Coordination, was created by the CIA. I’m also aware of your Special Activities Division, which includes the Special Operations Group. I’m especially interested in the Specialized Skill Officers unit in the SOG group.”
    “Kip, how do you know about these groups, and why are you interested in them?”
    “For the past few months I’ve been on the Armed Forces committee. One of the things I’ve learned is you have independent agents who either work as individuals or in small groups.”
    “That’s supposed to be classified information, Kip.”
    “It may be, sir, but like you, I have friends,” said Kip, grinning.
    “All right, let’s say we do. Why are you interested?”
    “As you know, during the Second World War, I was a captain in the 1st Cavalry. Recently I have been contacted by a soldier, who I’ve known for some time. When I first met him, he was a sergeant working special reconnaissance missions. He now represents a small group, who would like to be involved with the Specialized Skilled Officers unit. They’re skilled in recon, clandestine, and covert operations.”
    Director Spencer sat looking at Kip. He didn’t say anything for close to thirty seconds. Then he leaned forward. “Why didn’t they contact us directly?”
    “They don’t wish to be commissioned by the CIA. They want to work independently and incognito.”
    The director remained silent.
    Kip continued. “I know their capabilities. I have personally seen what they can do, as a group or individually. I can guarantee you, sir; you do not have operatives working for you with their attributes.”
    “Pretty high praise, especially when I’m sure you’re aware of what some of our agents have achieved.”
    “I do know. However, Director Spencer, you need this group I’m offering you.”
    “Why? And how many are there in the group?” asked the director.
    “The why is, they’ve fought in many of our wars, as Germans in World War II, as South Koreans in the Korean War and as American Indians. I’m not at liberty to say how many there are in the group.”
    The director smiled. “That’s quite a group, Americans, Germans, Koreans and Indians. What’s the group called? Do they have a name?”
    “They refer to themselves as The Chameleons.”
    “The Chameleons, well that’s sort of appropriate under the circumstances,” said the director, with a grin.
    Kip waited for his next question.
    “Kip, other than your recommendation, and the fact they’re experienced soldiers, what reason would I have to employ them? What are their outstanding qualifications?”
    “They meet your qualifications of being intelligent, experienced in recon, camouflage, skilled in all weapons, and in hand-to-hand combat. They have been wounded, and came back strong. And, very important to any mission, combined they fluently speak over twenty languages.”
    Director Spencer looked directly at Kip. “Russian?” he asked.
    “If one of them was standing in front of your desk, speaking to you in Russian, you’d swear they were born and raised in Russia,” Kip assured him.
    “It doesn’t seem possible I haven’t heard about this group before.”
    “They’ve just recently assembled, for the purpose we’re now discussing.”
    “Where are they now?” asked the director.
    “They’re in the U.S., on R and R, sir.”
    Spencer smiled. “Well, I guess even your so-called super-group needs rest and recuperation from time to time, Kip.” He sat bouncing his fingertips together. “How do I get in touch with these chameleon soldiers?”
    “I will be your contact.”
    “I don’t think that will work, Kip.”
    “They insist, sir. There’s no