by Travis Stone
'Stay quiet.' Chaske whispered. 'We won't save her by making noise and bringing every NVA soldier down on top of us . . . Will you be quiet?'
Cam nodded in his grip and Chaske took his hand off her mouth.
Cam's eyes bulged. 'We have to get to her . . . I can swim.'
Chaske made eye contact with Blue. 'Any sign of Danny?'
'She's alone,' Blue said, scanning the water. 'Wait . . . Over there.'
Chaske followed Blue's finger to a figure exiting the foliage thirty yards downstream from Amai. The figure was a Vietnamese male wearing black pajamas. The man walked to the water's edge and cast a net into the gentle part of the river.
'Fisherman.' Blue said.
Cam looked solemn. 'They're all NVA here.'
Chaske looked back to Amai. She got to her feet, walked to the water's edge, and looked back upstream. Her hands went rapidly from her head to her mouth - she looked distraught.
Amai's actions made Chaske uneasy. What's she looking for?
She waded out a short distance and became visibly frantic.
Chaske looked back to the fisherman. The fisherman was looking directly at Amai. The man tied off his net, and then started moving toward her. Chaske saw that the two wore the same black pajamas, but white Vietnamese lettering had been painted onto the back of Amai's shirt.
'It says 'prisoner',' Cam said.
Chaske leveled his MP-5, centering the fisherman in the site-ring. Experience put the distance at forty yards.
She doesn't know he's there.
Amai's attention was focused upstream.
The man closed the distance to twenty yards.
Still in the water, Amai turned, saw the man, and turned to run.
Chaske closed one eye and the gun-sight’s aperture became his entire world. His eye zoomed in on the Viet Cong’s torso. The foresight centered. Chaske squeezed the trigger twice. The MP-5 spat two rounds. The action snapped back-and-forward twice, ejecting two shell casings into the foliage.
The Viet Cong staggered, tilted forward, and then fell face down.
Chaske thought: Did anyone hear? He looked and listened for a response to the noise. There was none. He lowered his MP-5 and looked for Amai. She was waist deep, hauling something from the water.
It's a body, Chaske thought. Hell. It's Danny.
Chaske said: 'Let's get to them.'
'Fuck you.' Golota said.
Chaske knew Cam was with him. He said: 'Blue. Follow me if you dare.'
54
Danny's lungs burned.
He lay on his back, dazed and gasping for air. He opened his eyes and shut them again. His eyeballs felt bruised. He opened them slowly and let them adjust to the glare of the outside world. As his focus returned, he realized he was staring at Amai. 'Am I dreaming?'
'You're alive.'
'Are you sure?'
'We need to get out of here,' she said. 'Can you move?'
Her desperation was contagious. He stood. 'Where to?'
Amai took his arm.
'I thought you were gone,' he said. 'I thought I had lost you again.'
Then Danny saw the dead fisherman; the lifeless eyes looked like Triet's and memories of the tunnels and the torture wrenched his mind.
Amai pointed to the river.
A black shape was emerging from the water. It grew larger.
It was Chaske.
Impossible, Danny thought.
Chaske rushed toward him and took him in a wet bear-hug.
'Danny,' Chaske said. 'They told me you were dead.'
'How the hell did you find us?'
'Long story-'
'It's no time for a family-bloody-reunion.' It was Blue; the man from Bangkok. 'We gotta get outta here, mate.'
Chaske released Danny. A Vietnamese woman stood beside Chaske, along with another man. The woman looked like Amai, but older. A sister. The man glared at him; a look of pure hate.
Danny looked at Amai. Her flushed face had turned pale. She looked scared. Danny took her hand. 'I know these guys,' he said. 'They'll help us escape.'
Chaske said: 'We gotta move.'
'How-we gunna do this?' Blue said.
'The plan's changed.' Chaske stated with authority. 'They'll pursue us. We follow the river west. Lose them in the J.'
The nameless man said: 'The fuck we do. We'll go east.' He pointed toward the mountain range. 'Gives us the best shot at linking up with friendly forces.'
Blue cocked his head. 'Golota's got a point. West takes us straight into the Ho-Trail. The place'll be crawling. You know that.'
Danny didn't like Golota's demeanor.
'Trust me,' Chaske said. 'We need to go west. They'll expect us to go east because it makes sense. Their one-hundred troops will quickly find us that way. West'll buy us time.'
Golota snarled. 'This is wrong-'
'We haven't got time for a fuckin' debate,' Blue said. 'The boss says west - we go west.'
* * *
Triet stared at the dead fisherman with disbelief.
Palm fronds had been thrown over the body, but blood from his chest had congealed in the river sand around the corpse.
Despite the tropical heat, Triet's skin was cold. He was verging on panic.
The fisherman had been shot, but Amai and Danny were unarmed.
How? Triet thought. Who shot him?
His conclusion stunned him. The idea that Amai and Danny had been rescued by an American Special-Forces-Team was unbelievable; unbearable - but the evidence spoke for itself.
No one knows this place exists, he thought. How could they know they were here?
He felt suddenly sick. If she gets to a radio, she will stop Tet.
The Tet-Offensive was Triet's life's work. His entire existence had built, piece-by-piece, to this pinnacle achievement. There was no way he was going to let Amai destroy everything his life stood for.
Triet wondered if this Special-Forces-Team had a radio. He had to find and kill them, before they transmitted the message that would destroy his life.
Lieutenant Thanh came out of the trees and ran down the riverbank toward him.
Thanh spoke through heavy breaths: 'We picked up their trail. We will have them soon.'
Triet slapped his hands together. 'Make sure our men know they are up against Elite soldiers.'
'We found at least seven sets of footprints,' Thanh said. 'They went west.'
Surely not, Triet thought. East toward friendly forces would be the logical direction. His eyes darted around as he searched for the logic behind the unexpected move. 'It's either a deception . . . or they have a helicopter coming for them.'
The latter thought made his stomach twist. A helicopter would have a radio.
Triet glared at Thanh. 'Send half the troops east. The rest can follow their trail west. We won't stop until we find them.'
55
Military Intelligence Headquarters
Tan Son Nhut AFB
10°48'41"N 106°39'50"E
Colonel Hitchcock thumbed through a growing stack of Intelligence reports.
The first was from the late Captain, Nash: it went on about how Nash had observed unusual activity in Saigon, including a possible female spy network, which was targeting, among other things, the journalist Danny Thorn.
That fucking reporter, Hitchcock thought. I hope the VC has gotten rid of him.
He kept reading. Nash's report speculated that Amai Nguyen was manipulating the press for some kind of military gain, and that something big was in the pipeline: possibly a large unit offensive against Saigon itself.
'Rot,' Hitchcock muttered.
Secretly, he was glad that the upstart Nash was dead. He was still taking flak over the political incident that Nash had caused with Major Johnson, not to mention the debacle in the South China Sea.
Because of that idiot, Hitchcock thought. I'm lucky to have kept my goddamn pension.
He binned Nash's report and went to the O-Club.
56
; Danny felt like he was in a movie.
Underground, he thought that he would never escape the claustrophobic hell and the brutal torture; but Amai had saved him.
Amai, he thought. She loves me.
There were so many questions he wanted to ask her; so many things he wanted to say; but there was no time - they were running for their lives.
He scrambled down the jungle path behind her. Tree-roots, rocks, banks, and overgrowth tripped their feet and pulled at their limbs, slowing them down. Danny kept looking back, expecting to see NVA soldiers with assault rifles, but all he saw was Golota's malevolent face, studded with sweat.
Danny's shoulders ached and his mouth was dry. He felt a desperate fear of Triet: he knew the psychopath would pursue them to the death. Danny just hoped that they could get far enough into the forest to avoid re-capture.
The thought hit him hard: I can't be caught. I can't go back underground. I can't face that again. I'd rather die.
* * *
An awful fear gripped Amai, as night gripped the rain-forest.
In Triet's underground hell-hole, her main focus had been to escape with Danny; but now free, she had to find a way to stop Tet; to inform MACV of the awesome assault, of which they were completely unaware. The guilt of her involvement was eating her alive. In the middle of Laos, running from an army, it seemed impossible, but she would never be able to live with herself if she didn't try.
They stopped.
'We gotta get off this path.' The voice was Golota's.
'I agree,' Chaske said. 'Let's get into the bush. Move slow and quiet. Blue, you're on point.'
Golota cocked his ear. 'I hear a Whistle.'
The redhead said: 'Bullshit.'
Flecked with red, the whites of Golota's eyes stood out in the gloom. 'Listen dip-shit . . . they're coming.'
Amai strained her ears and heard it: the sound was certainly a whistle blast. She knew the NVA communicated that way and fear crept through her veins.
'Move,' Chaske said. 'Let's go.'
They left the path and threaded through the foliage. The undergrowth got thicker and the ground more gnarled. Having to climb, twist, and slide, sapped Amai's strength. Thunder clapped overhead and it started to rain heavily.
Chaske stopped them again; Cam appeared exhausted.
Amai put her back to a boulder. Concealed in the leathery foliage, she felt like a child again, afraid of the dark, and fearing the presence of a monster.
This time the monster's real, she thought.
She felt Danny's warm body beside hers. She put her head on his shoulder. 'Hi.'
'Hi.'
She stroked his face. Overhead, the trees groaned in warning.
Amai knew they were being hunted. She knew the consequences of capture. She was not scared - she was terrified.
The monsoon stopped. Amai was drained and groggy, but she knew what she had to do: she had to tell Chaske, and therefore Danny, about Tet. She had to risk coming clean. They could get her in contact with the American General. Then it would all be over. Tet would be dead in the water.
She would not do it to help the oil stealing Americans; she would do it because it was the right thing to do. She would do for Saigon's children. In her mind, there was no other option. She would be able to face life again - even if Danny hated her for it.
She saw Chaske signal Danny. Danny got up and went to him.
Amai had immediately recognized Chaske as the man from Laos - the man who had saved her. She owed him her life. Now he was here with Cam. It was bewildering, but Amai had seen the bond between Chaske and her sister.
But he knows we're Viet Cong.
She looked at the two men and shivered. Now was the time to face up; now was the time to admit her deceit. She went to get up and stopped; Golota was looking straight at her. She sensed his fear; the fear that she would expose him as a traitor. The secrets he had given her for drugs amounted to treason. Golota had unwittingly aided Triet in setting up Tet.
Suddenly, Golota's face was close to hers. He whispered into her ear so that no one else could hear: 'Keep your mouth shut - or I'll fucking kill you.'
Amai knew he meant it and nodded. Golota backed away.
Amai looked across to Chaske. The big Native American was watching her. She got up and pushed through the ferns toward him.
Chaske looked over her shoulder. 'How do you know Golota?' He looked her in the eye.
'Chaske. We can talk about old-times later. Right now there's something very important that we must do.'
'What's on your mind?'
She caught Danny’s eye and felt breathless. 'I have something to admit,’ she said. ‘Something awful-'
They were both staring at her.
'I was one of Triet's agents in Saigon.'
Neither man spoke.
Amai's anxiety climaxed. She swallowed a sharp lump. 'Things changed when I met you, Danny. I was naive. You made me see.' She looked at Chaske. 'We can talk about these things later – right now the Viet Cong are about to launch a massive attack. Eighty-thousand troops. Every city. Saigon will fall. I know how to stop it. I must warn MACV.'
Chaske's face screwed up. 'Staying alive is our first priority. If you hadn't noticed, our situation isn’t good.'
'Saigon will be a bloodbath. We have to get to a radio-'
'We can't warn anyone if we're dead.'
'We must hurry.'
'Why me?' Danny said. 'What did you use me for?'
'Your contact with Westmoreland,' she said. 'The information I gave you was designed to lure American forces toward Cambodian - to weaken the city.’
'Oh.'
Amai continued: 'Those troops must be called back to the city.' She looked at Chaske. 'Let's double-back east, find friendly forces, and use their radio-'
Chaske spoke with calm authority: 'No. Not east. East is fatal.'
'But-'
‘We'll deal with this - if we make it.'
‘Chaske, listen.’
'Don't question my leadership, Amai. Are we clear?'
Amai nodded. She was infuriated. For her admission, she had expected action. We'll be too late!
Danny looked dark; hurt; shocked.
'I was going to the Americans,' Amai said to him. 'I was going to tell them everything. But Triet's men took me-'
'I don't know what to believe,' Danny said.
'I'm on your side now.'
'Really?'
'Triet manipulated me, Danny. That was my life. I have to make it right.'
Danny looked away.
Amai said: 'Remember I got you out of that hole.'
Danny rounded on her. 'You put me in that hole.'
She felt tears. 'Triet put you in that hole. Triet put us both in that hole. I love you Danny. You must believe that?'
Behind them a shrill whistle broke the quiet.
Chaske said: 'That's close.'
Golota appeared. 'We should never've come this way. It's only a matter of time before they over-run us.'
* * *
Triet's intestines had knotted.
He could not relax until Tet's secret was safe; until Amai and the Americans were dead. Tet was the culmination of years of dedicated work, and its success depended entirely on surprise. If allowed to escape, they would destroy the element of surprise; destroy his life's work; and destroy his future status as a national hero. They could destroy the entire North Vietnamese war effort. To him, Amai was Vietnam's most dangerous enemy.
She should have stayed loyal to me, he thought. The Americans oppress us to enrich their Military Industrial Complex. They kill and burn our children for profit . . . and she runs to them?
His stomach cramped violently.
Tet will drive the Americans out, he thought. Tet will rid our country of their war-mongering filth.
Triet was sure that his soldiers were not far behind Amai, Danny, and their Special-Forces rescue team. His scouts had their trail, and were now closing in, but it scared him how far into
the jungle they had been able to get.
His lips curled. They won't get much further.
Thanh came out of the heavy undergrowth, and said: 'You need to see this.'
Triet followed him through the thick foliage. They stopped beside a scout, who pointed to a patch of trampled ferns, and said: 'They slept here.'
'Is it human or animal?' Triet said.
'It's them.' The scout knelt beside a group of footprints. 'There are two women with them. Both Vietnamese by their foot-sizes.'
There's another traitor, Triet thought. Who?
He guessed that the new traitor had helped Amai and Danny escape.
There was a series of short, sharp whistle blasts, and Thanh said: 'They've got them.'
57
Colonel Hitchcock rubbed his eyes and yelled to Corporal Mancini for more coffee.
Hitchcock was halfway through the pile of intelligence reports and was struggling to keep his eyes on the words.
The usual crap, he thought.
He began thinking about going to the Maison Blanche for a brandy or two. The thought of getting a fresh young boy to screw crossed his mind; he knew of a man who could supply such things.
The next report was marked: Top-secret. Project Igloo White. Eyes-Only.
It was from the Infiltration Surveillance Centre at Nakhon Phanom, Thailand.
The report waffled on about large percentage increases in NVA transportation movements down the Ho Chi Minh Trail. Truck numbers heading south had apparently tripled in the last month.
If the goddamn Air-force was doing its job, Hitchcock thought. They'd have bombed them into scrap-metal by now. He scratched his head. Things have gone downhill since World War Two. Too many young upstarts, climbing the ladder before they're ready. He scoffed. 'They're a new breed all right.'
58
Chaske wondered how Golota knew Amai; it was obvious they did - and did not like each other. There was something going on that he didn't know about.
Chaske pushed the thought aside; right now, he needed to lead his team to safety. It was his call to go west. It was his responsibility to keep them alive.
Amai's dilemma would wait.
Chaske took the front and led the team into the dripping undergrowth. Here the canopy was tall and the lower foliage dense.