the Last Run (1987)

by Leonard B Scott

  "Why didn't you finish law school, sir?"

  "Pete, I was a student and workin' for my po' Daddy's law firm till he found out I was bangin' his secretary. How was I supposed to know she was his sweet young sugar baby."

  "Really, sir?"

  Avant's smile dipped slightly. "Yeah, most of it." His expression changed as he motioned toward Dickey, walking away in the distance. "Pete, remind me now and then not to like that guy, will ya?"

  Cam Tiem Mountains

  Matt Wade reached the crest of the ridge and sat down heavily against a large mahogany. Several seconds passed before the small woman appeared and fell down beside him. Wade leaned forward, grabbed her arm, and pulled her toward him. She groaned and sat up. "Can't you leave me alone?" she pleaded.

  "Yeah, but the ants won't if you lie down like that. Sit against the tree."

  She crawled to the trunk and sat back. "Are we going to make it?"

  "Yep."

  "How much farther is the road, for God's sake?"

  "It's down this ridge in the valley. I just don't know how far. It's gonna be dark in awhile, so go to sleep. We'll make it tomorrow."

  The woman scooted closer to him and shut her eyes.

  Two hours later she awoke feeling something digging into her scalp. She opened her eyes, but it was so pitch black it was as if she was buried. She felt in her hair and touched a hard-shelled creature that immediately attached to her finger. She shrieked and flung her hand up, striking the sergeant, who shot up.

  "What's the matter?" he whispered harshly, as she frantically brushed at her tangled hair.

  "Oh God," she mumbled as she ran her hand through her hair, praying the creature was gone. "Something . . . something was in my hair and . . ."

  Wade reached out in the darkness, touching her, and put his arm around her shoulder. "Come here, damn it. Sit between my legs and lie back on me. Whatever is out there will get me first, okay?"

  The woman unhesitatingly scooted over his leg and lay back, still shaking. His arms folded over her protectively and he gave her a gende hug. "Try to get some sleep."

  She lay rigid for awhile but finally relaxed in his warmth. She drew up her legs. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to be held by a man who didn't paw at her. All the painful memories of the past seemed as if they had happened only yesterday. She'd slept with many men at first. It was part of the business. A woman trying to get a start had to pay the price. Mosdy one-nighters like her singing engagements. The "interviews" and "auditions" usually meant a night in bed with the club owner or manager. Those were the days just after she'd left her home to make it on her own. She couldn't go back and she couldn't go forward. The booze and grass made some of them tolerable, but there was always the revulsion the next morning. Walter had ended the bad times. He'd heard her sing and had taken her under his wing. He had thrown away her cheap makeup and had given her a new name and, more important, hope. Walter was obnoxious at times, but he kept her away from the seedy club owners and managed her career. He was a has-been, and he knew it, but he believed in her, honestly believed she had what it took to make it. She had needed his confidence. They had needed each other. They had both gotten over bad times and were looking for better.

  She cried silendy, touching his necklace, praying he'd died quickly and still believing.

  An Khe Ranger Camp

  The jeep's lights shined briefly on a long, white, one-story structure before extinguishing and leaving the passengers in the darkness. Major Shane, Childs, and J. D. Gibson had been picked up at the An Khe airfield and taken to the Ranger Camp's officer/ senior NCO quarters.

  Shane walked to the motel-like building and stopped at the first door on the end. "L-tee, you'll be bunking in Hootch Four with Lieutenant Dickey. This is my room. If you need anything, come on down. We've got an officers' call at 0800 in the headquarters just down the slope. See you then."

  "Yes, sir," said Gibson, picking up his duffel bag. Childs walked ahead and pounded on the door midway down the building. "Gino, open the damn door. I need a beer!"

  Gibson knocked on the fourth door. There was no response. He knocked louder and tried the door; it was locked. The lieutenant looked up and down the dark building. The major and Childs had disappeared into their rooms. Gibson knocked on the door and waited for several seconds, then threw down his bag. Screw it! In minutes he had his poncho and poncho liner spread out by the door. He'd slept outside with his platoon for six months; one more night under the stars was nothing new.

  Lieutenant Dickey turned over in his bunk. Some idiot knocking on my door at 10 p. M. The nerve!

  He reached up and touched the TEAC tape deck play button and lay back down.

  10 p. M.! Who could be so dumb, he thought, as he shut his eyes and concentrated on the soft music.

  Chapter 7

  6 September

  Cam Tiem Mountains

  Matt Wade awoke to the woman's gende breathing. She had snuggled close to him and was sleeping peacefully. He shut his eyes to block out the morning's dim light, trying to absorb her softness and warmth a litde more. She smelled of damp clothes, but it was wonderful to have her so close. He'd made love to many women but had never slept a whole night with one.

  He savored her body a minute longer, then shook her gendy. She only moaned and snuggled closer.

  "Come on, we gotta move." He leaned forward and tried to stand.

  "All right, already. I'm up, I'm up." She sat up and patted her hair cautiously. Wade walked behind a tree and relieved himself as she slowly stood and tried to stretch her sore muscles.

  "I've never ached so bad in all my life," she whispered, as she went behind a boulder and unzipped her jumpsuit.

  Wade heard a muffled shriek and pulled his pistol. He ran to the boulder and cocked the hammer back. Taking a deep breath, he jumped clear, ready to fire.

  Viiginia stood with her jumpsuit around her ankles, biting her hand and trying not to scream. She saw him and pleaded in terror, "Get it off. . . get it off me, please!"

  Perplexed, Wade lowered the pistol. "What's wrong?"

  She shut her eyes and bowed her shaking legs like a chapped cowboy.

  Wade sighed and holstered the pistol. A leech was attached to her inner thigh, close to the edge of her lace panties. "I gotta get some matches."

  She immediately opened her eyes. "No! Don't go."

  Wade returned seconds later and knelt down in front of her smooth, quivering stomach. He struck a match and let it burn a few seconds, then blew it out and tried to touch the hot end to the corpulent parasite, but the woman was shaking so badly he couldn't touch it long enough to work. "Hurry!" she shrieked.

  "Quit shaking, damn it."

  He held her waist and placed his head on her navel to try and stop her shaking. She grabbed his head, digging in her fingernails in desperation. Wade lit another match, trying to control his own quivering hand. The feeling of her velvety skin on his forehead and the profusion of dark pubic hair spilling out from the bikini panties was unnerving. He blew out the match and held her tighter as he touched the hot match head to the bloated leech. The parasite shuddered and fell off.

  "There, it's gone."

  She immediately shoved him back and grabbed for her jumpsuit. Wade sighed and took out another match. "Better hold up, you gotta 'nother one under your arm."

  She shrieked, dropping the material as if it was on fire, and threw her arms up, shuddering uncontrollably. "Get it off me! Oh, God, please get it off. Pleeease!"

  Wade stood and circled her, inspecting for more, unable to keep from noticing that her ample breasts were as rigid as rocks. He again held her waist and pulled her to him to stop her shaking. It took two tries but the leech finally succumbed.

  He backed away. "You can pull up your drawers now."

  She glared at him as if wanting to kill and pulled up her suit.

  "You took long enough!"

  Wade met her glare with a disgusted sigh and spun around. He unbuttoned his shirt
as he walked to his vest and found two of the gray bloodsuckers on his right side. He lit matches but their position was awkward to reach with his sore arm.

  The woman stomped over to him and grabbed the matches away. "Bend over," she commanded.

  Wade looked into her angry eyes and reluctandy began to stoop over. She dispatched both quickly and slapped his buttocks. "Now the pants, Mister."

  He stood abrupdy and grabbed the matches. "Not on your life."

  "Fair is fair, Wade," she snapped.

  "You wear underwear, lady, I don't. I'll check myself out."

  Her face showed no surprise, just anger. "Wade, you, you ..." She couldn't find the woixis for her humiliation. "You bastard!"

  Wade picked up his vest. "South is that way. I'm leaving in one minute. You can follow me or you can go on your own. I don't give a damn either way."

  She saw in his eyes he meant exacdy what he said, making her even more angry. No man had ever looked at her with such disdain before. She controlled her desire to slap him and turned to pick up her vest, knowing she had to follow.

  Wade removed the partially filled survival water bag from his vest, took a long drink, then offered her one.

  She pointedly reached for her own water bag. It was empty.

  Wade still held his out with a condescending grin. She snatched it from his hands. "What about food? Surely you could find some roots or something?"

  Wade shook his head, mumbling, and began walking.

  "I'm starved, Wade!"

  He kept walking and disappeared over the crest.

  "Damn you," she whispered, and hurried to catch up.

  An Khe Ranger Base Camp

  Major Ed Shane pushed open his hootch door and stepped out into the cool morning air. He'd gotten up early to inspect the troop barracks and company area while his men still slept. He gazed down the gendy descending hill to the barracks and began to take a step, then stopped abrupdy.

  From the corner of his eye he saw a strange shape, and turned. A figure was rolled up in a poncho beside one of the rooms. "What the . . . ?" He marched over and tapped the sleeping figure with his foot.

  Lieutenant Gibson threw back the poncho and grabbed for a nonexistent rifle.

  "Whoa, L-tee, it's just me."

  Gibson sprang to his feet, wearing only boots and fatigue pants. He'd used his shirt for a pillow. "Damn, sir, you scared the hell outta me. I guess I was really out of it."

  "Why are you sleeping out here, for Christ's sake?"

  "The door was locked, sir. I tried knocking, but... "

  Shane's eyes narrowed, and he pounded on die door, waited a few seconds, and pounded again.

  Lieutenant Dickey opened the door, yawning, wearing light blue pajama bottoms. Seeing the major, he stiffened immediately. "Sir?"

  "You didn't hear knocking last night?"

  Dickey's eyes shifted to the bare-chested soldier, then back to Shane. "No sir. Did someone knock?"

  Shane eyed the tall officer suspiciously. "Dickey, if you sleep that soundly, you'd better find yourself another profession . . . and get rid of those damned PJs! You'd look like an ass running to a bunker if we got mortared."

  Dickey shrugged his shoulders. "Sir, my stereo must have covered the noise. I'll keep it turned down from now on."

  Shane stared at the lieutenant, thinking to himself: He should never have given me an excuse. I hate excuses. That's strike one.

  The major motioned to Gibson. "Get our new L-tee squared away, Dickey. Show him the shower point and then the camp. And remember my meeting at 0800."

  Dickey began to say "Yes, sir" but Shane had turned around and headed for the troop barracks.

  Dickey rolled his eyes and stepped out the door. "Toss your stuff in the corner, cherry. I'll divvy up the room later."

  Gibson stepped closer to the taller officer as he put on his shirt. 66What did you call me?"

  "Cherry. All newbies are called ..."

  Gibson raised his hand abrupdy. "First, I'm not a cherry. Second, I heard you turn on your music after I knocked. I was going to pound your damn door in but had already laid out my gear and decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. . . until now. I don't know what your problem is, but don't screw with me."

  Dickey raised his head arrogantly. "I don't have a problem. I told you and the major what happened."

  Gibson shook his head in silence. He'd seen Dickey's type before and knew argument was useless.

  Dickey opened the door wide. "I'll be dressed in a few minutes and show you the camp."

  As he began picking up his poncho liner, Gibson wondered if he'd made another mistake in coming to the Rangers. The door next to Dickey's opened and out stepped a short, stocky soldier who looked like "Mr. Clean." Gibson couldn't help but stare at the shaven-headed officer as he approached with an extended hand and a huge grin.

  "Howdy, cousin, I'm Brad Avant, First Platoon leader. I couldn't help but hear y'all. I'd be tickled ta show ya 'round Rangerland."

  Gibson wasn't sure how to take the silly grin and cracker drawl, but he shook hands. "J. D. Gibson. Thanks for the offer, but Major Shane told Dickey to take ..."

  Avant shook his head dramatically, stopping Gibson in mid- sentence. "No, no, no. I, the resident Welcome Wagon host, must have the honors." Avant lowered his voice. "Plus, Dickey is an asshole, and it wouldn't do for the men to see you with him."

  Gibson eyed Avant. He still wasn't able to figure him out, although Gibson prided himself in making snap judgments based on appearance and brief conversation. Avant went from exaggerated drawl to perfect pronunciation all in the same sentence. And his humor and last direct statement didn't jibe. It was as if there were two different men talking out of the same mouth.

  Avant winked. "I know what you're thinkin', cousin, but don't worry none. I ain't crazy. I'm your new best friend. Believe me."

  Gibson looked into die eyes of the officer and suddenly felt a strange warmth for him. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt Avant was right.

  Avant broke into an even wider smile, as if reading his mind, and backed away, pointing at Gibson's patches. "Mercy sakes, but we have a gen-u-wine veteran from the 173rd. Man, do we need your experience. Where'd ya go to school?"

  "Texas A&M. How 'bout you?"

  ' 'North Georgia Military, then on to law at Emory in Adanta."

  "How come you're in the ... "

  "Infantry?" helped Avant. "I didn't finish law school. Ya see, cousin, I done seen the light one night. The light spoke ta me and said, 'Boy, you've been a killer since three and a bullshitter since two. Go and be infantry. Go forth and rape, pillage, and plunder fo yo country.' But hell, that's another story. Come on! Get your shaving gear. I'll show ya where we shave, then we'll tour Rangerland."

  Ten minutes later, Gibson and Avant had finished shaving and stood on a rise outside the shower building.

  "J. D., as you can see, An Khe is one big mama of a base. It takes an hour just to drive around the perimeter. Ya see the big boulder mountain off to our right? That's Hong Kong mountain and the big landmark of An Khe. The actual town is just outside the main gate, but it ain't much to see. Mostly cheap tailors and sleazy bars. Hell, J. D., ya even pay for the clap in them joints."

  Avant pointed out the road far below them. "That road leads to the center of the base where the Fourth Infantry Division and a slew of support units are. And, my friend, just below us here is Rangerland."

  Gibson followed Avant's hand as he pointed down the grassy slope to the small camp. A dirt road split the camp, with eight small plywood barracks on one side and the single-story headquarters building and sandbagged operations center on the other. Gibson couldn't get over how open the area was. It looked like grazing land on a ranch in Texas rather than a fortress. The terrain was completely void of trees except for a small valley just below the barracks. The only sign that it was in fact a fortified base was across the valley and up a barren hill, where large, wooden observation towers stood.

&nbs
p; Avant noticed him looking at the towers. "There is a tower about every five hundred meters, and in front of them is enough concertina wire to go around the world. There's a swath plowed a klick wide all the way around the perimeter and at night it's all lit up like a ball park. Ya see down there? The mess hall is just below the barracks in the valley, and across from it is the Mini- Ranger school. It has a rappeling tower and a couple of shacks used for classrooms."

  Avant turned around and pointed at the long, white structure. "That is what we call the motel-and it's where we just came from. It's the officers' and senior NCOs' hootch. Why don't you get your gear and throw it in my room? No use you bunkin' with Dickey."