The P.H.O.T.O. (VOL 2) The Saga Continues Read online

THE P.H.O.T.O.

  (VOL II)

  The Saga Continues

  By

  Larry Hunt

  * * * * *

  15 March updat

  PUBLISHED BY

  Cover Design by: Laura Shinn

  THE P.H.O.T.O. (VOL II) - The Saga Continues

  Copyright 2011 by Larry Hunt

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, media and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Other books by this Author:

  THE P.H.O.T.O.

  (VOL I)

  The Search

  21 December 2012 -

  The Calendar Beckons

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER ONE

  HOW THIS SAGA BEGAN

  Every story has a beginning, middle and end. This one is no different. Well there is a slight difference with this tale - we begin in the middle and I will tell you about the beginning!! You will read the end yourself.

  Let me explain - or at least let me try to get you to understand.

  You see, I was personally present when this story occurred forty + years ago... in the past... the past? Yes, you read me correctly; I was present as it occurred! Nothing odd about this... with the exception that I am only sixteen years old!! But I witnessed it all happen!! Is this weird or what? Yep, over 40 years ago!

  The persons in this tale are real; some have passed on but most are still alive and can verify the accuracy of these events. Only one thing wrong with this statement - they won’t!!

  Let me begin by telling you a little about myself and about those of whom I will speak.

  My name is Forrest Scarburg... well actually my given name is Robert Edward Scarburg, IV. When I was young my grandfather, Robert Edward Scarburg, Jr. gave me the nickname Little ‘S’ Four. This gradually became just Four ‘S’ or Forr-est. Forrest - get it? Yeah, right, but I have to constantly live with it and have accepted it. Forrest Scarburg, well it’s not too bad. It’s better than Little ‘S’ Four!

  You see, my Great-Grandfather was Robert Edward (Big “S”) Scarburg, Sr. Grandfather is Robert Edward (Little “S”) Scarburg, Jr., my Dad is Robert Edward (Trey) Scarburg, III and I, naturally, became the IV. Everyone in our family has ‘handles’ or nicknames. Why, heaven knows. Mostly due to my Grandfather I believe. I’ll have to explain the Big ‘S’ and Little ‘S’ stuff later - I can hardly wait because there is a good story behind these two monikers.

  As I said earlier, this story takes place over forty years ago - I know this is hard to understand since I am telling you this tale as a participant in the story...today, forty something years later. How can this be possible? Like I said - weird!

  Come on; hang with me for a little while. Let me explain. You are really going to find this story fascinating.

  * * * * *

  As a young lad of sixteen I had a part-time job working in my Grandmother Baba Scarburg’s restaurant. Immediately next door my Grandpa Robert Scarburg, Jr. had a gun store. As I worked I gradually became aware of a black Ford sedan driven by two suspicious looking men dressed in dark business suits coming and going from his store. One of them always carried a black satchel but neither seemed to buy anything from Pa’s store. No one in the restaurant knew anything about the two mysterious men or why they routinely came and went.

  I couldn’t stand not knowing who they were or what their business was with my Pa.

  One day I hatched ‘THE PLAN’. I figured if there was anything that could tell me about these two ‘dudes’ the only place that might contain this information would be in my Pa’s huge safe in his gunroom at his home. He kept all his important papers in this two-door, 6’, one ton steel beast.

  ‘THE PLAN’ was to secretly get into Pa’s safe and find out what the two sleuths were up to.

  ‘THE PLAN’ began to take place on a Saturday. I was working at the restaurant and planned on spending the night with Pa and Baba Scarburg. When everyone went to bed and was fast asleep my plan was to sneak downstairs and gain entrance to the gunroom. Once inside the room, I knew where Pa kept the hidden combination to the large grey two-door safe. The only drawback to this plan was the fact that Pa had the combination written in code. I got into the room okay, found the card with the safe code on it but it took me a long time to figure out the coded numbers.

  At last I deciphered the hidden combination and gained access to the insides of the gray steel monster. I found boxes and boxes of military awards, certificates of Army achievements and I discovered the award of The Medal of Honor to Great-Grandfather Scarburg. I was totally confused...calling from the gunroom on my cell phone to my friend Chris I found out the Medal of Honor was our countries highest military award. It was especially astonishing since the award certificate mentioned my Great-Grandfather by name and listed him as a Special Force’s medic. I had always thought he was cook, not someone who slipped around in the bush with his face all camouflaged up.

  Forget about the military awards for the moment. There was one other item inside the safe that I found but did not realize at the time how earth shaking important it was. It was a clock!!

  Oh, no. Not just any ole clock... this was an amazing clock-like apparatus. This six-sided 6” wide piece of gold and platinum exquisiteness I later found out was called a ‘Mindtraveler’.

  At the time, I did not understand what this beautiful clock-like object was capable of accomplishing. I found out when I tried to get the thing to run - I shook it gently, no luck then I shook it really hard. Smacked it with my hand and finally pushed one of the buttons on its side. Immediately after I pushed the red button the ‘clock’ started humming. It sounded like a tuning fork from science class - the date and the time slots lit up but the time and dates were wrong. One display showed the “Time” as “1700” and the “Day” was a “7 “ and finally the “Year” was “1967”. I thought, ‘what a piece of pretty junk!’

  Without going into the how the gadget works (actually I don’t know how it works), the ‘clock’ began to hum and I became disoriented. Everything in the gunroom became dim and hard to see. I felt like I was going to faint but I sensed I wasn’t falling down. I was... was... suspended in the air.

  When my vision cleared and I was aware of my surrounding. From playing some of my video games I recognized the uniforms, equipment and the sound. I had been ‘transported’ back forty something years to 2100 (9 pm) on 7 September 1967 to a place called Polei Kleng, Republic of South Vietnam. I don’t know if this was mentally or physically but I could not converse with anyone nor could they talk with me. I could see them but I was totally invisible to them. It was like, uh...uh...like I was floating out of my body. Does this sound stupid? Well I can’t help it that’s what happened.

  What did I see you say? I was in the midst of a battle where my Great-Grandfather Master Sergeant (MSG) Robert Edward Scarburg, Sr., a Special Forces medic, was tending to the wounded. The enemy was shelling the compound pretty good and death and destruction seemed to be everywhere. I found out that he was called �
��Sarge’ or ‘Doc’. Some of the Vietnamese referred to him as ‘Bac Si’, which meant ‘Doc’ or ‘Medic’.

  I was transported back a few months earlier when Sarge had been assigned a Special Operations mission into Laos as the leader of a Special Forces ODA Team.

  Unfortunately he and his men were captured by the North Vietnamese Army (NVA) and were marched deep within the jungles of Cambodia. While in Cambodia his interrogation was accomplished by a Russian Blue Beret Colonel - Colonel Nikita Ergorov. The Russian Blue Berets are comparable to our Green Berets.

  The Colonel could not extract information from Sergeant Scarburg concerning a place or object known only as The P.H.O.T.O. The reason the Colonel could not find out any information about The P.H.O.T.O. - Sergeant Scarburg did not know what it was or what it meant.

  Colonel Ergorov thought he could extract this valuable information by torture. The torture consisted of suspending Sergeant Scarburg by his arms from a ceiling beam in a Cambodian backwoods cabin where the ODA team had been taken after capture.

  Hanging by his wrists with his shirt removed Colonel Ergorov would ask Sergeant Scarburg a question. If he did not receive the correct answer the Colonel would slice off a piece of skin from Sergeant Scarburg’s chest using a Marine Corp’s razor sharp 10” Ka Bar knife. Since the name ‘Scarburg’ begins with an ‘S’ the Colonel carved a large ‘S’ into the Sergeant’s chest. ‘S’ because of Scarburg and the Colonel thought Scarburg was trying to be a hero like a Superman.

  After being rescued from the remote Cambodian cabin Sergeant Scarburg was admitted to the 75th Field Hospital at Pleiku, South Vietnam. During his stay in the hospital the nurses gave Sarge the nickname Big ‘S’. Later Sarge’s son, Captain Robert Edward Scarburg, Jr., also a Green Beret in Army Intelligence, arrived at the hospital.

  The Captain saw his father’s chest with the large ‘S’ carved on it. To better relate to his ‘Pop’ Robert Jr. went out and had an exact copy of his father’s ‘S’ tattooed on his chest. The only other difference - it was smaller. From that date forward Junior was known as Little ‘S”.

  Little ‘S’ brought Official Orders from Army Headquarters to assign MSG Scarburg another mission. He was to report to the firebase known as Polei Kleng, upon leaving the hospital. His orders read that he was to assemble a Special Forces (SF) A-Team (ODA-113) and go back into Cambodia and find a mysterious place called Pac Toul. Pac Toul might hold the answers to The P.H.O.T.O. If this place exists, and his team could find it, the team was to bring back all information on The P.H.O.T.O. If it was impossible to retrieve then everything was to be destroyed. Destruction was necessary to keep it out of the enemy’s hands, especially the Russians who were also tremendously interested in The P.H.O.T.O. also. In fact, it was known through Army Intelligence sources Colonel Ergorov was, himself, in Cambodia looking for Pac Toul.

  The mission was code named ‘Photo Search’ and consisted of thirteen members. Due to his extensive experience MSG Scarburg a.k.a. Big ‘S’ or just Sarge, was to lead the team. Captain Scarburg had been assigned as the team’s Intelligence officer; Sergeant First Class Thomas ‘Bonnie’ Clyde handled Demolitions; Sergeant First Class (SFC) James Bo‘Tex’ De Luca with Communications; SFC Thaddeus ‘Teach’ Collins with Weapons; SFC Charles ‘Doc Mayo’ Hellman was the Senior Medic; Staff Sergeant William ‘Jesse’ James the Junior Medic; they were also assigned an Intelligence Analysis from the CIA one Dr. Spurgeon Loo Kim. The team took the ‘SP’ from Spurgeon, the ‘OO’ from Loo and the ‘K’ from Kim and nicknamed him Spook.

  Little ‘S’ provided most of the nicknames - he was famous for them. It was said, “he never met a man that he couldn’t name.” Let me explain: Thomas ‘Bonnie’ Clyde is obvious; Jim Bo ‘Tex’ De Luca was named by the men - dark-skinned with a head full of wavy jet black hair - they though he was of Mexican origin thus ‘Tex’; Thaddeus ‘Teach’ Collins always had his head buried in a book. After his hitch he wanted to become a schoolteacher. Charles ‘Doc Mayo’ Hellman is also pretty obvious and last was another one that needs no explanation - William ‘Jesse’ James. Spook I have already explained.

  The Special Forces A-Team ODA-113 also included five ARVN (Army Republic of Vietnam) troops making a total of thirteen members. They had no names much less nicknames - the men just numbered them, Number 1, Number 2 etc.

 

  THE HOUSE

  After months of preparation, hours of flying time, a daring night parachute jump, trudges down muddy trails, attack by Russians in a mosquito infested swamp, fighting snakes and avoiding croc’s the gallant men of SF OPS ODA-113 Code Name: ‘Photo Search’ had begun its mission with all its high hopes, great expectations and 13 brave dedicated men.

  Once Pac Toul was discovered only three of the original thirteen remained to enter the house to solve the riddle of The P.H.O.T.O. Sergeant First Class Robert ‘Big ‘S’ Scarburg, Sr., Captain Robert ‘Little ‘S’ Scarburg, Jr. and Dr. Spurgeon Loo ‘Spook’ Kim.

  * * * * *

  Big ‘S’, Little ‘S’ and Spook walked confidently toward the doors to the two-storied wood, stone and brick constructed French colonial plantation house. Painted in brilliant white it reminded Little ‘S’ of the majestic old antebellum houses of the American south.

  Side by side the three marched, defiantly, silently, resolutely up the five brick and stone steps leading to the huge Mahogany double doors. The front porch extended the entire length of the front and extended upwards two stories. It was supported by massive carved columns reminiscence of elegant days long ago.

  Without a touch or even a glance at the doors handle Sarge took the entrance doors key - in the form of his big size twelve Corcoran jump boot and separated the doors from their hinges with one swift kick.

  The fixation on the doors was so vivid in their minds the fear of booby traps or hidden explosives meant little at this moment in time. The three had been through so much, got involved in practically every adventure and stared death in the face so many times, kicking in that door at this moment was anti-climactic; it bothered them not in the least.

  They were hoping some type of armed resistance would be on the other side of these huge doors. All they could think about was discovering the secret of The P.H.O.T.O. ... and now, most of all... payback... payback... for their ten companions lying, or parts of them lying, stone cold dead over a large portion of this wretched country. Payback!! That’s what they wanted… PAYBACK...!!! PAYBACK...!!!

  Drenched soaking wet to the bone all three stepped through the open hole into the first floor of the ‘house’. They stood staring at one huge room, totally empty and encompassing the entire first floor. The air inside was soooo cool but more importantly, at the moment, dry.

  The ceiling, ornately plastered in the French Renaissance style, looked down on the uninvited guests from a height of two stories.

  The second floor contained a beautiful white-railed mezzanine, which bounded three sides of the expansive room; the back and both sides. Ornately carved escutcheons that conspicuously decorated each supporting column around the entire upper floor walkway enhanced the beauty.

  The cool inside air announced the building was air-conditioned but empty as a tomb – not one piece of furniture - no tables, no chairs, no rugs – nothing. Nothing... included the lack of decorations such as painting or shelving on the walls. Before being stripped the house’s ostentatiousness implied the ‘main’ house probably belonged to a wealthy French plantation owner.

  The opulent floor, constructed of beautiful Mahogany wood planking, highly glossed and sporting a spit-polished shine announced in its glistening reflection a luxurious white marble staircase at the far end of the room. The stairs began at the gorgeous floor level and graciously curved to the luxuriant upper mezzanine. The gracefulness of its design only broken by a single landing, which divided the stairs into two sets; one ascending right and the other left, both culminating on the second story mezzanine. Along the mezzanine walkway could be seen a
number of ornately carved but closed doors.

  Something in this reflection caught Sarge and the Captain’s eye - a sign painted on the wall at the head of the stairs, directly above the landing.

  The sign printed in French with bold black letters on a pure white-stuccoed wall read:

  PHOTOGRAPHIQUES TELEMETRIQUE HISTOIRES DE PERSOnneL

  The three stood mesmerized… they seemed unable to move their transfixed eyes from the sign…. at last Sergeant Scarburg – leader of the remainder of OPS 113 “Photo Search” team spoke up, “Okay you two LINGUISTIC EXPERTS tell me what that sign says!” His voice reverberated throughout the empty chamber.

  Captain Scarburg and Dr. Spurgeon Loo Kim conferred with each other for a couple of moments, turned and one of them said softly (as if someone might hear), which one actually related the words to MSG Scarburg is unknown but he said the best translation of the French sign into English was:

  PHOTOGRAPHIC HISTORIES OF TELEMETRIC OCCURRENCES

  Both agreed the translation might not be totally accurate since some of the French words used are archaic and not in common usage today. “Sorry," said the Captain, “that’s about as good as we can get it.”

  “That’s fine guys,” Sarge stepped back and stared at the wall. “Spook, would you do me a favor, go back out into the yard and find me a stick with plenty of burnt charcoal on it, would your please?”

  Quizzically Spook answered, "Okay Serge, right away.” Spook’s jungle boots made wet sloshing sounds as he hurried to the hole masquerading as the front doors. In the bat of an eye he returned with the requested item. “Here’s the stick Big ‘S’,” presenting the burnt object to Sarge.

  “Spook’ would you do me one more favor?”

  “Of course, tell me what you want,” said Spook.

  “Please take the piece of wood and write as you would with a piece of chalk your English translation beneath that French sign?”

  Spook without question, doing as Sarge asked, proceeded up the staircase to the center landing. He reached high with his blacken ‘piece of chalk’ and wrote the English translation underneath the French text. Returning to stand with Sarge and the Captain they all gazed at the writings on the wall. “Thanks Spook you did good.”