The Cover of War

by Travis Stone

  Danny pictured Amai. 'Journalists call it legwork.'

  'Is she giving you this stuff?'

  Danny spoke through his fingers: 'She isn't a source. I met her in a bar, that's all.' He showed Loan his palms.

  Loan and Nash exchanged a look.

  'Captain Nash believes she could be working for the communists.'

  Danny laughed. 'A spy? C'mon.'

  'You tell us?'

  Danny shook his head. 'No way.'

  'Has she done anything out of the ordinary? Met with anyone odd? Gone anywhere unusual?'

  Loan was making Danny angry. 'This morning was odd. What makes you think-'

  Loan put his hand on Danny's shoulder. 'She's a woman of means. Beautiful clothes. Nice flat. Where does she get her money?'

  When Danny first met Amai, he had wondered that himself. The answer she gave now seemed thin.

  'What is this?' Danny said. 'I didn't come here to put up with an interrogation. And I will be reporting your break-in-'

  'Be careful, Mr. Thorn,' Loan cut in. 'Saigon is a very dangerous place if you mix with the wrong people.'

  Danny felt threatened. 'If I'm not mistaken gentlemen, war-zone journalism is always dangerous.'

  'You don't know what you're getting into.' Loan put the canapé in his mouth and chewed.

  Danny turned to Nash, said: 'Nice meeting you, Captain,' and walked away.

  'Likewise.'

  Danny weaved his way through the crowd, looking for General Westmoreland. I'll see what he thinks about this General Loan.

  Strong fingers tapped Danny's shoulder. 'Danny Thorn?'

  'Yes.' Danny saw that it was General Weyand, Commander Two Field Force. Weyand wore an impressive array of campaign ribbons, including several Distinguished Service Medals and a Silver Star. Danny was aware of General Weyand's distinguished history. He had served under the legendary, Vinegar Joe Stilwell in Burma, but had earned the Silver Star in Korea, for driving back the Chinese Army's savage 1951 offensive.

  Weyand shook his hand and smiled.

  Danny said: 'Have you seen General Westmoreland? I was supposed to meet him-' Danny checked his watch, again. 'Ten minutes ago.'

  Weyand put his hand on Danny's back and steered him toward the door. 'General Westmoreland isn't here. General Abrams came in unannounced.'

  'Damn.'

  'Let's get some air.'

  Weyand guided Danny down the steps and onto the sidewalk before taking his hand off his back.

  Loan's grilling had made Danny sweat, and he pulled at the bottom of his shirt to cool his chest.

  Weyand lent in and Danny tasted the General's bad breath. 'We have your brother, Chaske over here - good man.'

  'Yeah. I haven't seen him for months - I hope we can catch-up.'

  Weyand lowered his voice: 'Can I trust you?'

  Danny felt Weyand's intensity and nodded.

  Weyand said: 'I think we can be of mutual use to each other-'

  'I'm not for sale, General.'

  'Don't misunderstand me.' Weyand's halitosis was unbearable. 'I've looked into you, Danny. Something big is happening and I need someone I can trust. Are you that man?'

  Danny could tell that Weyand was both genuine and serious. He also knew how to recognize an opportunity. 'What do you need, General?'

  'I need you to meet someone for me - in Thailand.'

  'Who?'

  'A retired General who can't be seen in Saigon. They'll be plenty in it for you, my friend. What'd ya say?'

  'How could I say no?'

  Weyand looked around. 'Be Outside Hangar Thirty-eight at zero-six-hundred. You're flying to Ubon. Don't attempt to contact me - I'll contact you.'

  Danny felt a tingling in his bowels. He had no idea what Weyand was getting him into, but it sounded like the break of a lifetime.

  Danny looked back to the doorway, shielded by two big Marines. 'General. What do you know about this General Loan?'

  'Very little. Why?'

  'No reason.'

  Danny turned to go; Amai's flat was ten minutes walk, and he was getting anxious to see her.

  'Danny.'

  'Yeah.'

  'Be careful out there. Saigon isn't what it seems.'

  * * *

  Danny arrived at Amai's feeling more than troubled.

  It had been the longest day of his life, and he still didn't know how he was going to approach her with Loan's accusations.

  Unwanted images of the child's leg kept popping into his head, along with the words of a Sun Tzu quote: All war is based on deception. He put the flashbacks down to his overactive imagination, and tried to ignore them.

  I need a shower, a meal, and a good night's sleep, he thought.

  At Amai's he always got the first two, never the third.

  Amai's staircase felt steeper than usual. He climbed to her landing and his lower-back began to ache. Danny saw the splintered door jamb, the raw timber standing out against the dark varnish.

  What was it about? Amai had clearly lied.

  He pushed the door open and a soft light pulled him inside. Tall, mauve candles were burning around the room, their light dancing over the walls and ceiling. He smelled the lavender and let his shoulders slump. He dropped his camera bag on the floor beside the bed and looked around for Amai.

  She came toward him wearing a white, lace bra, panties, and thigh-high stockings; the white lingerie fluorescent against her honey skin.

  She handed him a flute of bubbly. The glass was cool. She flashed her bedroom eyes and he began to harden. Her arms went around his neck. Her skin was hot. She kissed him. Her hot tongue darted in and out of his mouth. He could not control his desire. He never could. Not with Amai.

  She unzipped his fly. Danny swung her back onto the bed, pinched the lace of her panties, and pulled them down her thighs. Her pubic mound was shaved smooth and she smelled of lavender and a musky scent that was erotically familiar.

  Danny's eyes contoured her body. She drove him wild.

  Then he was inside her.

  * * *

  After dinner, Danny's nerves returned. He emptied his wine and savored its effect.

  Amai poured them both another. She wore a sleek mauve dressing-gown of oriental cut, open at the front. She said: 'How was your afternoon?'

  In the candlelight, he told Amai about his day, leaving out following her to The Trung Hoa, and the grilling from Nash and Loan. He described the bombing and choked-up; but he studied Amai's face. Hearing about the dead mother, the injured child, and the distraught father, Amai's mouth dropped.

  She said: 'That's horrific.'

  Her eyes turned glassy, her movements twitchy. Her sorrow wasn't faked.

  'I heard the blast,' she said. 'It's awful to think we can do this to our own.'

  Danny tensed. 'Where were you?'

  Her eyes smoldered, and then she said: 'Hunting out the best ingredients for a romantic dinner for two - of course. Lotus root and ginger are not easy to find, let alone prawns.

  They smiled at each other. Danny said: 'Thank you my darling. I think it was your best yet.'

  She giggled. 'Darling is the strangest word I've ever heard - but I love it.'

  'The bomb,' Danny said. 'Seems the Viet Cong were involved. Would your contacts know anything?'

  There was a knock at the door and they both tensed.

  Danny got up and made his voice deep: 'Who is it.'

  The reply was a small boy's: 'I have something for Mister Thorn.'

  Danny went to the broken door and pulled it ajar. A boy of no more than ten handed him an envelope through the gap, and then ran back down the stairs, almost toppling at the bend.

  Danny opened it. It held a single slip of typed paper. He knew it was from General Weyand. Danny thought it unusual for a top Military officer to leak to the press this way, but Danny would not betray him; trust was the name of the game at this level. A story like this could make history - Danny knew he was on to a winner - he could just feel it.

&n
bsp; Amai leaned on his back. 'What is it?'

  'Nothing.' He shrugged out of her hold, walked to his satchel, and put the envelope inside. 'Just some info for a story.'

  'Important?'

  'Confidential.' Now's the time, he thought. I have to ask her.

  His throat tightened. 'Amai,' he said; his tongue suddenly too thick to form words. 'I'm not here to take sides.' Hesitating, not knowing how to proceed, he ran his fingers through his thick hair. Then he looked into her liquid brown eyes.

  'Military Intelligence says you're a Communist spy.'

  4

  Amai went ridged.

  She felt like she had been thrown into icy water. Once, bathing near the Chinese boarder, she had jumped into a freezing river; the heart-stopping breathlessness felt physically the same.

  She fought the panic. On the inside she was roiling; on the outside she kept her appearance calm. This could be the moment she lost the most important person in her world.

  She had two options: dispel Danny's suspicion; or tell him the truth.

  Would he stay with me if he knew the truth? She knew he would not. She loved him. He meant everything to her. She could not loose him.

  She looked into Danny's concerned eyes and knew he was expecting an answer. 'Why do they say that?' She smiled remorsefully. 'Because I gave you some good information for your stories? A spy would lie, Danny.'

  I'm lying to him, she thought. I'm shameful.

  Danny looked thoughtful. 'That's what I thought too.'

  She felt his hand on her shoulder.

  He said: 'One was the guy that broke in here this morning - A General Loan.'

  'Him. He's an extortionist.'

  'Why didn't you tell me?'

  'It's not the way we do things here, Danny. I just want him to leave me alone.'

  'I hope I'm not getting played here, Amai. I care about you. You know that, right?'

  'I'm no communist.' It was kind of truthful. Amai felt tears threatening. She walked to the sink and filled a glass with water.

  Loan or his men would be outside her building now, waiting for her to move; waiting for her to take them to Triet. Loan would get what he wanted. She would give him Triet. But if she wasn't careful, she would end up floating in the Mekong - or worse. Suddenly she was in a concrete room; Loan's smirking face hovered above her - and then he was raping her.

  She dropped the glass and it smashed in the sink.

  Danny came to her. 'It's been a hell-of-a day.'

  Amai put her arms around him. The way forward was clear: she would lead Military Intelligence to Triet, report Tet in every detail, and then leave Saigon.

  She looked at Danny. 'Let's get out of here.'

  'I'm beat-'

  'No.' She cupped his face with both hands. 'I mean let's get out of Saigon. I love you, Danny. More than anything. Let's go anywhere. Let's just get out of Saigon.'

  'So you are a communist?'

  'No, Danny. I want us to have a life together. We can't have that here.'

  He looked out the window.

  Her simmering mind began to boil.

  * * *

  From the start, the thought that Amai was somehow just toying with him had lodged in the back of Danny's mind. But now she had confirmed her love. She had said it. He was elated. He wanted this more than anything. But his journalist's eye could see something besides love in her demeanor: her eyes were bright and sparkling, but the set of her mouth said desperation.

  She kissed him softly. She had the most beautiful lips; the most sensual kiss. Her hand touched his face.

  'I love you Amai, he said. 'Once I've done my job here, we'll leave the country.'

  'We need to go soon - how's tomorrow afternoon.'

  'I'm going to Ubon tomorrow. There's a story-'

  'How long.'

  'A week.'

  'Can you make it sooner?'

  'I don't see how. No.'

  He felt her tremble. He drew her to him. She held him tight.

  Danny felt drained. The day's hellish events had beaten him down, but then Amai had said that she loved him and everything was different - And then there was the Weyand story. Something told him that this could be his Pulitzer - his redemption.

  A week, he thought. If all goes well, I'll get the story and the girl.

  * * *

  Amai poured another wine. It foamed over the rim of the glass. She drank the bubbles and poured another.

  A week in Saigon was too long. From the moment Triet was arrested, Military Intelligence would be hunting her. A week would feel a lifetime.

  Danny's absence however, would buy her the time and space she needed to report Tet, without his finding out.

  She realized that she was clenching her teeth.

  She forced herself to smile. I love Danny, she thought. And we're going to have a life together.

  Her smile receded. If I survive.

  * * *

  Danny got into bed and Amai got on top of him.

  She felt herself getting wet. Sex would be a temporary distraction from her mounting dilemmas. Danny was hard. She put him inside her and rode him slowly; sensually; deeply. He loved her to be his cowgirl. Soon the fantastic sensations of lovemaking took her focus off Tet; off capture; off Triet; off betrayal. She rode Danny faster; harder; her skin slapping against his. It felt so good; so wild; so free. He was lasting much longer than usual; hard sex usually made him come quickly. Then he gripped her waist and his face twisted in pleasure. She loved doing this to him. She loved him.

  She watched him fall asleep. She didn't mind; he was exhausted - he'd had an awful day. He deserved rest. Danny's breathing slowed as his sleep deepened. Amai's eye fell on his satchel.

  The letter.

  She wondered what secret it held.

  It didn't matter; the letter would solve a problem. She could not just meet Triet whenever she wanted; he called the meetings. But there was an emergency procedure, if information of absolute importance was found.

  Amai got off the bed and tiptoed around to Danny's side. The old floorboards groaned with her movement and she cringed.

  I need that letter.

  Danny stirred and rolled over. She stopped.

  His eyes stayed shut.

  She knelt beside the bag, opened the drawstring, and felt inside. His camera slid out and hit the floor with a thump. To her, it sounded like a gunshot.

  Danny's eyes opened and he stared straight at her.

  Her heart stopped.

  He said: 'Night.' And then rolled over.

  Amai's mouth was dry. She put her hand back in.

  Got it.

  Amai took it into the bathroom, which contained nothing more than a night bucket and a bowl of water on a solid wooden shelf. She dared not light the candle so she unbolted the small window. It creaked as it opened, letting in a gentle mix of light from the moon and the Embassy's windows.

  She started to read:

  **EYES ONLY - BURN AFTER READING**

  My friend,

  I hope this finds you well. I will trust you to do the right thing. I have done my homework on you and understand that you are a patriot; as am I.

  I only ask that you never attach my name to any of this.

  I have already risked my reputation in leaking my belief that this war is un-winnable. I'm sure you've read The Post's article, entitled: "Vietnam: The Signs of Stalemate."

  But why do we remain in an un-winnable war, bogged down in deadlock? I now believe a Military Industrial Complex to be pulling the strings of this campaign.

  I know for a fact that the warships Maddox and Turner Joy were not attacked by North Vietnamese torpedo boats - this was a Lyndon Johnson lie. He used this lie to gain congressional consent to attack Vietnam.

  Unfortunately the lies only get bigger.

  All of my battle plans must be approved by the United Nations Security Council, located in New York City. A Soviet General named Alexel Nesternko heads this office!

  Is he communist?
Does he pass this information on to communist forces? I don't know. I want you to find out, as I cannot.

  Then there is the policy of not pursuing the enemy into Cambodia. This simply gives the NVA sanctuary. They can sit within spitting distance of us, in total safety.

  To not pursue the enemy breaks every rule of combat!

  Consider the logic behind not allowing our combat pilots to attack Surface-to-Air missile sites, until the SAMs capable of shooting back. Ludicrous! Once again it breaks every rule of combat.

  Other deeply concerning anomalies also exist.

  This whole thing reeks of conspiracy.

  When you arrive at you destination, you will be met by a man named Benmore. He will provide you with the information and equipment that you need.

  Remember, Saigon's eyes are many.

  I will be in contact.

  Destroy this after reading!

  The door opened and a jolt of fright rocked Amai's body. Danny walked in half asleep, his tackle swinging from side-to-side.

  'Hey gorgeous,' he mumbled. 'What you doing?'

  'Nothing.'

  Danny urinated loudly into the bedpan.

  She went back to bed. You idiot, she thought. But the information was significant enough to justify a meeting with Triet. It would be their last.

  Danny got in beside her. She cuddled into his back and hung her leg over his.

  Amai didn't sleep. She lay beside Danny and made sleepy love with him in the early morning.

  Danny got up, washed, and dressed.

  Suddenly, she had to tell him. Confessing Tet to Danny would solve so many problems: Danny would tell General Westmorland, and Triet's bloodbath would cease to exist; Danny would use the story to get his prize, or whatever it was; and she would dodge Military Intelligence.