by Nick Carter
"Whatever turns you on, man. Are we going to stand here jawing, or are we going up that wall?"
"I'll go first," I said. I got my foot in the crack and lifted myself up. My clothes were again soaked. I found finger holds and moved slowly from one side to the other as I climbed up. Chong had already started by the time my fingers touched the top of the wall.
The stones wiggled when I touched them. My pack had a tendency to pull me back and down. The tops of the walls were uneven, looking like up and down shallow stairs. If all the top stones were loose, I'd have to think of another way to get around.
About four feet from where I originally reached the top I found solid wall. I crawled up and rested. I could see over an acre of topless temples, the crusty stones looking like a pen knife-marked picnic bench. Then, as I looked more closely, I noticed that some of the temples still had roofs on them. I turned toward the direction Chong and I thought the Society temple might be. But it was too far to make anything out clearly.
Chong was grunting at my feet. His hands came to the top of the wall. I reached down and grabbed his wrists and helped him up. When Chong was standing behind me, I started out toward the Society temple.
We still had to be very careful where we stepped. Some of the other stones were loose. Chong kept close behind me. We passed over faces of ancient gods that had been etched into the stones. The noses and cheeks were eaten away by erosion and time. The eyes of the faces were closed, slanted slightly, and the lips were full.
We had come to a roofed temple. Below us was a courtyard. The temple was U-shaped. Chong pointed to the side buildings.
"That is where the main army sleeps," he whispered. "The officers occupy the end building."
I noticed the courtyard was closed off by a huge wooden gate. Unlike the time-worn stones and musty look of the rest of the temple, the gates seemed made of fresh lumber. They also looked strong enough to keep a truck from smashing through them. There wasn't much activity.
I looked around the roof, then pushed myself backward. Chong came back with me. I remembered there had been an open-roofed temple just south of this one. I could use it as my base camp. I raised myself to a squatting position when I was far enough away from the roof edge.
Chong touched my arm. "Aren't we going to stick around and check them out?" he asked.
I winked at him. "I've got some goodies in my pack I want to pull out first. Come on."
Eleven
As it turned out we didn't have to climb down the wall. When we left the Society's temple and crossed to the one I wanted to use, we found a section of wall with a huge cavity cut from the top to within four feet of the floor. It was a jagged, uneven cavity that let us climb down as though we were descending a staircase. When we were on the temple floor, I looked around until I found a little cubbyhole with the roof intact. I peeled out of the pack and let it drop, then I knelt beside it.
"I don't know about you, Nick," Chong grunted as he shrugged out of his own pack. "But I'm so hungry right now I couldn't care less about any Silver Snake Societies. You dig?"
"I dig," I said.
When Chong saw what I was pulling out of my pack he seemed to forget all about eating. "Man-oh-man-oh-man," he kept saying. Then, "Explain these goodies to me, Nick."
First I pulled out the two plastic suits with barbless hooks. "Most of this stuff we'll use tonight," I said. Then I grinned at Chong. "We're going to have us a busy night." I held up the plastic suits. "We'll put on these tonight. The hooks we'll stick in cracks and crannies along the Society temple walls. That way we can hang outside the windows and listen to what's being said. You'll have to interpret everything that's said."
"Crazy," Chong mumbled. He was looking at some of the other stuff. "So what else you got?"
I pulled out a small radio receiver and what looked like two gray bottle caps. I held the caps up for Chong to see. "These are bugging devices. Before we're ready tonight I have to know where Tonle Sambor's chambers are."
I closed the pack. "That's all for now. There's only one other thing that we might use later. If we don't…" I shrugged.
Chong nodded. "I know, it's none of my business."
I sat down and leaned against the pack. "I may be dirty and sweaty, but I don't think there's anything wrong with my ears. Did I hear you mention something about food?"
Chong laughed. He pulled a gourmet's feast of snacks from his pack; things like dried cheese, hard biscuits and thick circles of baloney. The wine was gone, so we drank water from our canteens.
"When we leave, we'll stop at the Great Lake on the other side of Siem Reap, and I'll catch us some fish, dig?" Chong said. For dessert he pulled two sticks of gum from his treasure-laden pack. I wondered how he got it all in there.
The bad thing about eating well is if you have been awake and traveling all night — well, you tend to get drowsy.
Thoughts of Sariki came to me in the night, Hawk's cigar-smoke smell, Nam Kien, Ben-Quang, American helicopters…
"Nick?"
My head jerked up. For an instant, I looked at Chong's young face without focusing. My eyes felt as though they were burning. I shook my head trying to clear it. "Must have dozed off."
Chong looked at me with sympathy. "I'm about ready to drop myself. Nick, do we have to go back there now? Why don't we have a little nap first."
I shook my head and stood on my feet. I put my hand down to Chong. "Come on, tiger. We'll catch a nap before nightfall. Right now I have to know where Tonle Sambor's chambers are."
So, tired and with muscles like rubber bands, we once again climbed to the rocky wall and made our way to the roof of the Society temple. The sun was high, almost directly overhead. We dropped to our bellies and crawled five feet to the edge of the roof. The courtyard was 14 to 15 feet below us. There was more activity this time.
Men dressed like peasants were paired off. I didn't try to count them, but a rough guess would have been about two hundred. They were packed a little tight and seemed to be practicing hand-to-hand combat. Another smaller group of about ten were bunched at the side of the courtyard. A man talked to them, gesturing to the paired-off ones, giving examples of blows to deliver. Chong scooted close to me.
"The smaller group is made up of recruits," he whispered. "You see the two on the right end?" I nodded. "Those are Sariki's brothers, man. Come hell or high water we got to get them out of there. Can you dig it?"
I nodded with a wry half-smile. I could dig it all right. But what I couldn't dig was the size of the Society's army. If they turned out to be undesirables, my job would be to wipe them out. Even if I called for a Strike Force there still would be less than ten of us. How would we take on 200-plus men? There was no sense worrying about it until the time came.
We watched the men for another hour.
Then from the archway at the end of the courtyard there was a small commotion. Several of the men seemed to jump and stiffen as rigid as boards. Soon everybody was standing rigid, heads high, arms at their sides with the elbows locked. A man stepped out of the archway and into the bright sunlight.
Chong pinched my arm so tight it hurt. "That's him, man. That's the cat himself. Tonle Sambor."
I saw one, then three, then five altogether. "Which one is he?" I asked.
"The one in front. Those others are his top generals. Christ, I never thought I'd really get to see him again."
I didn't like Chong's tone. He spoke of Tonle Sambor with a kind of reverence in his voice.
"When did you ever see him?" I asked.
Chong wiped sweat from his brows. "Nick, I told you they came through the village recruiting. Sure I got away. But I hid in the jungle and watched that little peacock. See? Watch how he walks, looking at those soldiers. Hell, he doesn't walk, he struts. You see the way he twirls the end of his mustache. Oh, he's an arrogant little bastard."
"Then why all the respect?"
Chong grinned. "Man, you got to respect a guy like that. I mean marching through village after
village demanding that men join your army. It takes balls, and that's what our strutting general has. Can you dig it?"
Sambor was a proud one all right. He strutted between the men with a ton of arrogance. Unlike the others he was dressed in a shiny general's uniform, complete with small-billed hat. I couldn't identify the uniform, but that didn't mean anything. He probably had it custom made in Saigon or one of the larger cities. One hand was behind his back, the other twirled the long waxed mustache.
I watched Tonle Sambor pass among his men. The four generals seemed to act as a buffer between him and the men. Tonle Sambor talked to the recruits for a long while. At one point he threw back his head and his little body vibrated with laughter. He looked around, nodding to his generals, and they happily joined in. But only Tonle Sambor's high crackling voice reached us on the roof with any clarity. We waited and watched until the party of generals once again left the courtyard. We watched until we saw Tonle Sambor appear at one of the windows in the end structure. He smiled and waved at the men below. Then he turned his back and started removing his wide belt.
I punched Chong's arm. We now knew where the little general's chambers were. That was enough for now. We pushed back from the edge of the roof. When we were far enough we stood and made our way back to our little base camp. We both walked doggedly with arms dangling loosely. If we had been caught, we wouldn't have put up much of a fight. But now there was time for a nap before nightfall.
I decided we'd better leave the receiver in the little cubbyhole. All Chong and I were taking with us were the bugging devices. We were wearing the hooked plastic suits. They fit similar to wet suits. There were no arms or legs, and they zipped up the front. The hooks hung from all over but they were spaced far enough apart so that they didn't clang against each other.
Chong and I were well-rested and had eaten again. The sun had been down almost an hour. We climbed to the wall and made our way back to the Society temple. When we reached the roof we could hear the clanging of metal trays. It was suppertime for the troops.
Chong and I made the edge of the roof. We moved along it to the end where it joined with the roof of the end building. There was a gap of about five feet between the two roofs that we jumped easily. Keeping close to the edge, we moved along the roof until we were directly above Tonle Sambor's chamber window.
Chong stood in front of me, as I had shown him when we practiced. His hands locked around my wrists, and mine did the same to his. His back was to the edge of the roof. I felt his weight pull as he stepped over the edge. Slowly I knelt first to one knee then the other. I fell forward to my elbows. He had just been a shadow in the night, but now he was out of sight. I was lying flat on my stomach with my arms dangling over the edge. I felt I was holding his entire weight. Then Chong released my left wrist, and I felt a sudden jerk to my right. I heard him faintly as he set the hooks of his suit in the temple wall. Going up and down the wall wasn't going to be bad. But there was at least a three-foot overhang on the roof that we both had to get under before we could set our hooks.
The pressure on my wrist was released. I knew Chong was now hanging by his hooks. I turned around to aim my feet toward the roof edge. I had to move slowly because the hooks of my suit scraped against the rock of the roof. When I was turned around I started slowly pushing away from the roof. I felt my feet go over the edge, then my shins, then my knees. As I worked my way down so that the roof edge was against my waist, I realized that I was trusting Chong one hell of a lot. If he were not there when my feet came down, my first step was going to be about 15 feet and hard.
The edge of the roof was against my stomach. I was beginning to slide because the roof slanted down to the edge. My feet were dangling, and I gingerly stabbed the air with my toes looking for Chong. The only thing keeping me from sliding off the roof completely was the pressure of my elbows on the slanted roof. The air was hot; I was sweating and my elbows were starting to slip. My toe jabbing became more than just gingerly. Where the hell was Chong?
I pushed my fists into my chest and tried to bear more weight on my elbows. My stomach slid over the edge of the roof. I could feel the edge move up to my rib cage. Then I dropped to my chest. I felt Chong's hands grab my feet. Slowly I transferred my weight from my elbows to my feet. Chong guided me toward the wall of the temple.
For an instant, I didn't think I had made it. I seemed to hang suspended. Then I felt pressure against my crotch and back. I was hugging the wall, and the hooks were holding me there. Chong was beside me. The reason he had taken so long was that he had turned completely around so his back was to the wall. Carefully wedging hooks from the side of his suit Chong got slowly turned so that he faced the wall. We were right next to each other.
We worked our way down the wall carefully. It was a fairly simple procedure. The more practiced we became, the faster we were able to go. But this wasn't any race. I wanted Chong close to me when we reached that window. These soldiers were all talking Martian as far as I was concerned, and Chong was going to turn it into English.
In the courtyard, men passed back and forth. To our right, we could hear the chatter in the mess hall. There was no moon; and the clothes we wore blended in with darkness.
As we continued down, Chong stopped suddenly. I stopped beside him.
"What do you hear?" I whispered.
He put his index finger to his lips. When he had listened longer, he turned to me and bent close. "The men in the mess hall are talking about the Delta," he said. "They seem to believe that is the only purpose of the army." He shrugged. "Maybe they're dedicated."
I motioned for us to continue. We kept going down the wall like two spiders at the end of a web, spreading it as they went. Only our target was not some helpless fly buzzing against the stickiness of a web; we were after a window. And when we came down toward the top of it, it was like a fork to us. Chong went right; I went left. We continued down and met just under the open window.
Tonle Sambor was not alone in his room. His four generals were with him. Chong and I set our hooks deep in the cracks between the slabs. We hunched close together. The voices came to us with crystal clarity, but I couldn't understand the words.
"What are they saying?" I whispered.
Chong had a look of disgust. "They are making a top-level decision. The great Tonle Sambor and his generals are trying to decide when they should eat."
"Oh, hell."
We listened for a while longer, then chairs began to scrape against the stone floor. One of the generals coughed. Chong turned to me.
"A momentous decision has been reached," he whispered. "They are going to eat now."
I listened until the door slammed shut. Chong and I watched each other. I didn't think there was any sense rushing into this. All we'd need is to have one leg over the window sill about ready to enter the room and have one of the generals come back because he forgot his pipe or some such tripe. We gave them plenty of time, and when we thought it might be okay to go in we gave them a little extra time.
"Let's go," I said at last. I got one hand on the windowsill and pulled my hooks loose. I got my knee on the sill and climbed into the room. I turned for Chong and helped him in.
The walls were stone like the rest of the ruins. The room contained an unpainted desk with chair, a low table about seven feet long, and over in a far corner a mat for sleeping. Tonle Sambor had a photo of the wife and kiddies on his desk. The wife was plump and matronly; there were seven children, four boys and three girls. The oldest looked about 12. I wondered how the general would feel if one of his children were recruited into an army by his methods.
Chong and I just gave the room a shallow lookover. I didn't know how long the generals would be gone, and the purpose of this invasion was only to plant the bugs. We didn't look in closets or pull drawers in the desk. Tonle Sambor had found a way of fixing picture hangers between the cracks in the stones. He had five pictures in all — nice picturesque scenes of rolling hills and waterfalls. While Chong nosed ar
ound shuffling papers on the desk, I chose two pictures to plant the bugs behind.
"Hey," Chong called when the bugs were planted. "Look here."
He had found one of the Silver Society daggers under the papers on the desk. I turned it over in my hand. It was certainly a wicked-looking weapon. Chong was giving me one of his con grins.
"I wonder how much the silver would bring if the dagger were melted down," he said.
I shook my head and shoved the dagger in my waistband. "Come on."
We went out the window again and using the hooks moved up the wall. Getting past the overhang was just the reverse of going over it. I set my hooks, arched my back until I could grab the roof edge, then Chong released my hooks and pushed me up. Once on the roof I stretched out on my stomach and reached down over the edge for Chong. We moved quickly across the roof to our camp.
We rested, smoking the last of my cigarettes. In a few minutes we'd be able to hear everything said in Tonle Sambor's room. I didn't know if it would prove anything. If Tonle Sambor and his army proved to be actually trying to reclaim the Mekong Delta for Cambodia, there wasn't much I could do about it. If they were trying to take over the Cambodian government, there wasn't much I could do about that either; except maybe get hacked off because the Cambodian government was using the United States to do its own dirty work. It had been one long sweaty trip, and now I was going to find out if it had been worthwhile.
I had the receiver set up. Chong had been watching me with eager eyes. He ran fingers through his hair when I handed him the ear phones.
"Remember," I cautioned. "You tell me everything that's said whether you think it's important or not."
"I can dig it, man," he said. He put on the head set. I was crouched in front of him, watching his face. He scratched the side of his nose. His eyes nicked from one part of the wall behind me to the other. Then he looked at me and said, "I don't hear nothing, man."
"Maybe they're still eating."
He held up his hand palm toward me. "There's shuffling. A door closed. They're coming back now." He wiggled himself around and leaned forward slightly. There was a frown of concentration on his young face. "They're saying something has to be done about the food. They're talking about how it was cooked; it was really rotten tonight. Chairs are scraping; they must be sitting around that table." Chong leaned back.