by Travis Stone
She tried to breathe in, but couldn't. Her trapped muscles locked with panic.
Water filled her mouth and nose and she gagged.
I can't breathe.
Her fingers clawed at the board. She felt intense pressure directly behind her eyes. Unable to hold her breath a second longer, she inhaled the water and choked.
I'm going to die!
Then the board was raised. Relief washed over her. Water drained from her face. Snot hung from her nostrils and lips. She coughed up fluid - but she could breathe.
Then it was happening again.
The board dropped back down. Water flooded her mouth. This time she knew what to expect and soiled herself.
The terrific fear of suffocation engulfed her as her airways filled with un-breathable pressure. She gagged and choked. There was no way to control it. No way to beat it.
Her body jerked convulsively in a vain attempt to get free.
Uncontrollable panic took over and her body wrenched. She heard a crack and a popping noise and felt her right elbow break. She tried to scream through her water packed mouth, but couldn't.
She was drowning.
Then she was up. Again the water drained from her face. She struggled for air. Again the relief was unimaginable. Her broken elbow throbbed under the tight strapping. Mancini and Albertez were laughing. Then she saw Albertez' hand rush toward her face. Her nose exploded in pain. She heard it break. Sharp pain drove into her head; stars swirled through her vision.
They kept laughing.
Thi had never felt so worthless.
* * *
Nash could smell Thi's feces.
He pinched his nose and bent down beside her. She didn't look so good this time. Her panties and thighs were smeared with dark shit. Her perfect nose was broken and bloody. Her face was contorted, and the light in her previously bright eyes, had been extinguished.
Nash had not been impressed when Albertez struck her. It had been unnecessary. He would discipline him later.
For some reason, the sight of Thi's dislocated elbow made Nash queasy.
It's a shame, he thought. She would've been a great fuck.
He reminded himself that they were fighting a war. She's a communist, he thought. A fucking communist! But it was more than that now. Nash desperately wanted to show Colonel Hitchcock that he was worthy. He wanted to show Hitchcock that he was best Intelligence officer in the Corps.
Nash ground his teeth. I'll show him, he thought. By God I'll show him.
Nash looked into Thi’s eyes. 'Like I said, Thi. What happens in here is entirely up to you. Just answer the questions truthfully. Don't even think. Just give us the truth. We'll get it one way or another.' He kneaded his bicep. It felt solid; the adrenaline had pumped him up.
The door grated opened, washing Thi's body in natural light. Nash rounded on the intruder - it was the young looking Corporal that Hitchcock favored.
'This’d better be good, Corporal.'
The Corporal looked at Thi and cringed. 'We've got the other one, Sir.' he said, his eyes locked on Thi. 'She's in the building on Rue De Varlin. She's been there less than a minute.'
Nash couldn’t believe his luck. 'Get the jeep,' he said. 'I'll be right out.'
Nash looked back down at Thi. 'Gotta pay your girlfriend a visit,' he said.
Then he went out.
* * *
Adrenaline raced through Mancini's heart.
His mind told him the torture was wrong, but it felt strangely thrilling - even erotic.
Mancini said to Thi: 'Let's continue. Your heart rate is at two hundred and forty beats-per-minute. Better start telling the truth. I wouldn't want to see a sexy bitch like you die.'
'Asshole.'
Albertez looked at the polygraph and laughed. 'True.'
Mancini snorted. 'Who do you report to? Quickly.'
Thi's voice cracked. 'A man,' she said. 'Triet.'
True. Excellent.
'I don't think that's his real name.'
True, Mancini thought. I've broken her. He felt ecstatic, she was his first. 'We know the VC are planning a major attack,' he said. 'Where?'
Thi's voice gained strength: 'Khe Sanh,' she said. 'Twenty thousand will hit the base. General Giap will come from Hanoi to control the battle.'
Jackpot! Mancini thought. Just as Hitchcock suspected. The polygraph result was inconclusive, but he knew her words were the truth.
'Amai Nguyen,' Mancini said. 'You know her don't you?'
'Yes.' Her voice was a whisper.
She spilling it all now, he thought. 'Wise girl. What was your relationship with her?'
'We were on assignment.'
'Together?'
'Yes.'
'What assignment? Details?'
'The black Major,' she said. 'We were to seduce him for information.'
'What information?'
'I don't know.'
He looked at the polygraph. True, he thought. Damn it. 'What did you get?'
'Nothing.'
True. Damn. 'Who is this Major? Everything you know.'
Thi whimpered. 'I'm in pain. My arm.'
True. Damn. 'Answer the question,' he said. 'You'll get treatment when you're done.' He felt like a God.
'Major Johnson. He works at the Embassy. Deals with the Pentagon. Has a fetish for Asian girls. That's why he was given to us.' She looked up. 'And he's a great fuck.'
True. Damn. 'Did you both fuck him?' He heard the malice in his voice.
'I think you call it a ménage a trios.'
True, he thought. You fucking bitch.
* * *
Thi smiled inwardly; he had bought her cover story. Then she saw Mancini’s face change. He looked demonic.
The board slammed back down. She couldn't believe it. She couldn't take it.
‘No!’ She screamed. ‘I’ve told the truth.’
Water hit her face. But this time it was different. She knew that if Nash were here, he would stop Mancini; but Nash was halfway across Saigon, racing toward Rue De Varlin - toward Amai.
Water packed Thi's airways. Her face felt ready to explode.
Mancini kept pouring.
Thi felt her face bloat and distort.
This time she knew she would die and was glad of it. She just wanted the humiliation to end.
Then she felt an unbearable pain behind her eyes. The pressure forced her left eyeball out of its socket and onto her face. She felt it flopping against her bloated cheek.
Then the water hit her lungs.
The inside of her chest burned like fire.
Then a strange thing happened: a warm calmness surrounded her. She felt an incredible sense of peace. Light filled the room. She began to drift upward, into the light. She was weightless. She felt no pain, no suffering - instead she felt deeply in love.
She looked down. Mancini was slapping her face, trying to wake her.
Albertez was saying: 'You've done it now. Nash'll be pissed.'
Intense energy vibrated through her body.
The last human emotion that Thi felt before the light took her was pity for her torturers.
* * *
Nash screamed at the Corporal to drive faster.
He cursed anything that got in their way.
As they forced through the congestion, Nash burned with savage delight. Behind him, he could hear the second jeep's engine revving hard to keep up. His men were like a pack of wild dogs, hungry for the kill.
Nash's hand went to his throbbing calf, and he thought: Now I'm going to get the bitch.
22
'If I'm caught with you,' Blue said. 'I'll be crucified.'
The Bangkok taxi stopped within sight of the hangar, where Danny had arrived aboard the F-4 Phantom.
He could see the C-130's tail fin behind the hurricane-wire-fence. 'We need to get on that C-130; it's bound to be going to Vietnam.'
'Mmm.'
Danny followed Blue to the gate where he showed the security guard some kind of I
D. The man opened the gate and they went into the hangar. The C-130's flight crew was sitting at a square, Formica table, engaged in a card game. Blue went to the table. 'Morning gents. Who's the ranking officer?'
'I am. Who are you?' The man was an Air National Guard Lieutenant Colonel.
'Colonel,' Blue said, saluting. 'I'm with The Special Activities Division.'
The Colonel's face showed no recognition.
Blue held up ID. 'CIA field ops.'
'Oh, yeah?'
'When does your aircraft depart, and what's your destination?'
The Colonel's eyes went to Danny. 'Who's your friend?'
'A civilian. Are you headed to Vietnam?'
'I can transport you. But no civilians.'
23
The rain had broken in a series of short-lived downpours, making the roads greasy. A cyclist rode in front of Nash's jeep, folding with a crunch as it went under the wheels. The driver hit the breaks and Nash yelled at him to keep going.
Nothing was going to stop him from getting Amai - nothing.
Once she's in the pit, he thought. My boys will squeeze the information out of her like wringing water from a sponge.
She would give him the Viet Cong Commander; and under his new method of interrogation, the Commander would reveal his battle plans and weapons caches - the evidence of insurrection. Nash would rub these trophies in Hitchcock's smug face.
And then, Nash thought. Weyand will promote me.
There would be nothing Hitchcock could do to stop it.
The jeep leaned into a tight left-hander and Nash gripped the dash-handle as gravity strove to hurl him to the pavement.
This is what he loved about Saigon: the thrill of the chase; the smell of his prey in his nostrils - the anticipation of victory.
* * *
Amai clumped up the stairs to the third floor.
Her vision was patchy. She noticed silly things: patterns in the chipped and stained tiles; the mold in their grout; a man she had not seen before, who stared at her as if trying to remember her face.
Something's wrong, she thought.
Trepidation slowly bubbled up through the despair she felt over Danny's disappearance.
Please don't be dead, she thought. I need you.
She went into Thi's flat, feeling desperately thirsty. An envelope with her name scrawled on it had been slipped under the door. She picked it up, undid the two bottom buttons of her chemise, and slipped it into her purse. Then she went to the tap.
Where is Thi?
Heavy footfall on the stairs brought her mind back into focus. They were the feet of a big man running hard. Panic fizzed in the pit of her gut and she felt an overwhelming need to get away.
Trust your intuition; she heard Cam's voice in her head.
She ran to the window and hauled on the sash. It opened several inches and then stuck.
The stomping feet stopped at Thi's door.
Terror put strength into Amai’s muscles, but the sash only opened another foot.
The front door crashed open.
Amai saw the intruder's face.
It was Nash.
In a split second, Amai knew that Nash had Thi, and realized that she had stupidly walked into the same trap.
Nash charged toward her. Amai saw the intent in his eyes. Then she squeezed her body through the gap between the window and the sill.
* * *
Nash got to the window and slammed the sash up to its stopper.
Fear struck him; the fear of failure. She's doing it again.
He couldn't let her get away - not this time - not when success was so close he could taste it.
Amai was only feet away from him now, clinging to a rusty ladder. She looked him straight in the eye, and then scuttled down like a cockroach. Nash felt fleeting admiration; her eyes held not fear, but defiance.
He hadn't considered that she might go out a window, thinking it was too high up.
Fire escape, he thought. Idiot.
He looked down and fear struck him again - the fear of falling.
He guessed a fall from this height would either kill or paralyze him and vertigo tingled in the soles of his feet. Then he imagined the shame of telling Hitchcock that Amai had beaten him again. He heard Hitchcock's arrogant voice: Can't even catch one little slant eyed girl, maybe this isn't the right business for you sonny.
It was all the motivation Nash needed.
He mounted the window sill. His injured leg was stiff and sore, but he forced himself to climb onto the ladder. His white knuckled hands clung to the metal rungs. Then he forgot the pain, he forgot the height, and he clambered down the ladder after Amai.
He felt the ladder shift, and looked down to see her swing gracefully across to a drainpipe. His mind did the math: he guessed that she would beat him to the ground, but only by seconds. He had the advantage of the ladder, and she was shinnying awkwardly down the pipe.
Stupid girl, he thought. Advantage Nash.
The enclosure below was a dead-end, hemmed in by an eight foot block-wall.
She'll be trapped.
Then, ten feet above the ground, it happened.
In a gut-twisting moment of insight, he realized why Amai had jumped to the drainpipe. But it was too late.
With unnatural clarity, he heard the sound of metal tearing, and his section of the ladder jolted and gave way.
Nash felt himself falling. His arms chopped the air. There was nothing he could do.
He landed hard on his back.
The impact drove every particle of air from his lungs. The section of broken ladder followed him down and hit him in the face.
Stars crashed into his vision. Searing pain shot into his skull and he tasted warm blood.
Through a fog, he watched helplessly as Amai began climbing the block-wall at the end of the enclosure. Winded by the fall, he felt like he was suffocating, but even in his state of breathless pain, he was able to admire Amai's perfect ass, as the dark silk of her pants stretched tightly into every crevasse.
How is she doing this? He thought.
He looked closer. She was using vines, the mortar gap, and chips in the masonry, to gain foot and hand holds. His men would never climb it - she would escape.
He tried to yell, but his breath was gone.
I should've put a block in at the rear, he thought. Idiot.
He put his hands behind his head and sucked hard for air. His men ran into the yard and Amai disappeared over the top of the wall.
'Get her.' Nash wheezed, with all the breath he could muster.
His men ran to the wall. One formed a stirrup with his hands. The other put his foot into the stirrup and was boosted up the face. He grabbed the top, hauled himself into a sitting position, and then reached down and hauled the other up.
Yes, Nash thought, pumping his fist.
* * *
Amai dropped from the top of the wall and let her legs absorb the shock.
Her face stretched into a smile. The ladder had held Nash's weight longer than expected, but the trick was priceless. She hoped it hurt. She relived the moment: his look of dread; his wind-milling arms; the noise he made on impact. She would cherish it forever.
She looked around and realized that she was on the bank of a narrow canal. The bank itself, only a few feet wide, followed the canal in both directions. In the shallow water, a long line of barges tied together as one snaking convoy, blocked the channel. A noisy motorized boat towed the convoy by a thick rope. On the opposite bank, the tin and canvas shacks of a large shantytown spread out as far as she could see.
She looked back at the wall. Nash's thugs were scrambling over the top. Her smile vanished.
Initially she thought of running away down the side of the canal, but Nash's men were fit and strong and she knew they would quickly run her down. She looked at the canal. Despite its narrow width and shallow depth, the convoy of barges made it impossible to cross.
Despair struck her. There were no options. She
couldn't believe that she was going to be caught.
What will they do to me? She thought. Will they torture me? Have they tortured Thi?
Amai didn't want to be tortured. The fear turned her saliva to glue.
Nash's men thudded to the ground, expelling their breath loudly. Their hairy arms came out. Amai turned and felt her ankle twist. She squealed in pain and fright.
One of them said: 'Grab her,' and the will to survive hijacked her body. Adrenaline burst from her chest and into her legs, and without further thought for her own life, she dove into the canal.
She swum down to the bottom sludge, and thought: Can I fit under the barge?
She stretched her body out flat, dug her fingers into the mud, and dragged herself forward.
A barge's keel hit her back and pinned her to the bottom.
I'll drown.
The boat felt like it would crush her. With all the strength she could muster underwater, she desperately thrashed her arms and legs.
I need air.
She wriggled forward an inch.
I need to breathe.
She jerked her hips and came free. She stood up and her head broke the surface. Air filled her lungs and her eyes focused on the bank.
The fear of capture drove her on.
Amai slogged through the mud. Her thighs burned.
I'm going too slow.
She made the bank and looked back.
Both of Nash's men were in the water. The bow of a trailing barge struck one and he went under. The barge rode up onto his body, listed, and then capsized, dumping its full load of vegetables into the canal.
He'll drown, she thought.
Then she ran toward the slums.
24
Danny took two steps toward the C-130's Air National Guard pilot. 'You must remember me? I flew in yesterday in the back of an F-4 Phantom.'
'Oh, yeah. It was you.'
'I was flown in confidentially for a reason. Now I need to get back confidentially.'
The Colonel stood. 'I haven't been told about it. It's not authorized. It's not going to happen.' The pilot came round the table. 'Can I make a call?'
'No calls,' Blue cut in. 'This is covert business.'
The colonel looked at the ground. 'Okay.' He looked back up. 'We fly to Bien Hoa this afternoon.'