The planes were heading West. High over districts one and four. The sky quickly became full of planes. Tuấn counted sixteen before giving up. He tensed when he saw something drop from a plane; bombs! More dropped from other planes. A couple seconds later the parachutes deployed. He stood transfixed, silent, unbreathing. The skyline filled with scores of slowly falling mushroom shaped parachutes drifting in jagged rows onto the city.
A smoky contrail streaked toward the flight of planes. There was a unified cry of alarm as the projectile struck the plane; a fireball engulfing it where the wing met the fuselage- sending half of the wing spinning away. Its nose plunged. The tailfin snapped off. The plane broke apart. Shards of wreckage swept through some of the nearest parachutes. Smoky debris trails showered the city. The remains of plummeting fuselage disappeared behind distant skyscrapers, the impact not seen or heard. The other planes in the flight continued unmoved by the loss from their flock.
Despite the shock, Tuấn wondered who shot the plane down. The contrail had already dissipated. It took mere minutes for the planes to pass out of sight; leaving their deadly drifting cargo to descend from view into the city depths until the students were staring at an empty grey sky. Nobody moved or spoke for what seemed like a long time.
Tuấn felt a fingers interlock with his own. Only he realised Phượng beside him, her eyes still fixed on the cityscape.
'We have to fight them,' she whispered.
'I know,' he said.
Phượng
5th March, 15:40
Cars, trucks, cyclos, bicycles, mopeds and over laden motorbikes filled every section of road and much of the pavement. The traffic barely moved. Horns honked continually. Agitated drivers yelled at each other. Red lights were ignored. Phượng was forced to shuffle her heavy moped forward using her feet; unable to gain enough speed to drive it. What would usually be a few minutes’ journey had already been half an hour. Her legs hurt. She had given thought to abandoning her moped to the side of the road, but couldn't afford to risk its loss.
An angry policeman at the junction attempted to force drivers to stop for the red light. Even his raised baton threatening to strike at those who ignored him did little to discourage the blatant disregard for authority. The result was the complete congestion of the crossroads. It was the third such intersection she'd passed.
The fear and urgency of the populace was palpable. Impatience gave way to anger. She'd witnessed fist fights between stationary drivers. It all seemed like a movie or terrible dream. Before she left the university she'd heard on the radio that most of the Paratroopers had dropped on the outskirts of the city. They weren't an immediate danger, but could be blocking the city exits.
For the fourth time, she thought through what she would say when she reached her destination. Teacher had inspired her to act; she decided to be bold. If from canteen to the destination had taken minutes she'd have oozed confidence, but the delay made her dwell on doubts. For the fourth time she considered heading home, and for the fourth time steeled herself. She would see it through.
She watched the owner of a small grocery shop with his wife and young son load their motorbikes with such goods as they could carry. They pulled down the metal grill over the front of the shop. Many passing commuters pleaded or demanded to be sold a bottle of water, a durian fruit or a candy bar. The shopkeeper refused each request.
'Hurry, woman!' he urged his wife as she helped him secure the crates of coke cola stacked eight high on the back of their bike.
Two boys jumped from their bike and pushed the wife aside. She cried out as she fell to hands and knees. One youth cut the yellow string binding the crates to the bike, sending bike and cargo crashing to the ground. Loose cans rolled along the pavement. The shopkeeper screamed obscenities and pounded the backs the youths who snatched up two crates of sodas. The boys ignored his assault as they carried their loot back to their bike.
Motivated by youth's success, others dropped their motorbikes; fighting among themselves over the choice of loot. Phượng couldn't see what happened to the shopkeeper, but nobody helped him. Those who didn't join the looting slowly pushed their motorcycles on by. Phượng averted her eyes from the sight; ashamed to leave the shop owners to their misfortune, but what could she alone do?
She had to ask another driver for directions. She knew the rough area, but her destination it was down a small road she hadn't previously had cause to travel. The traffic was less dense on the minor roads, and she was able to pick her feet up to drive- albeit at a rate comparable to the usual rush hour crawl.
It didn't take long to find the right building. The parking area at the base of the building was dark, and heavy with the scent of garbage from overfilled bins. She wondered at the security of her bike; there was no guard and only a few other bikes were parked. Deciding there was little other option, she parked near the entrance. She removed her helmet and jacket, but decided to keep the surgical mask until away from the stench of garbage.
The staircase walls were marked with graffiti tags. The plaster crumbled and more ceiling lights were out than on. Thankfully, the stairwell and corridors were empty. Her steps were slow and cautious as she approached a bulky wooden door. She recognised it as her destination by the initials sprayed on it.
Removing the surgical mask, she closed her eyes, counted to three then rapped firmly on the door. A sound of muffled voices came from beyond. She could still leave. She could be halfway down the stairwell before the door opened. If she stayed maybe they'd hurt her. A girl shouldn't go to the home of a boy she barely knew without good reason; they might get the wrong idea.
Too late. The door was swung inward. She was met by a familiar face, but the expression was one she hadn't seen on him. Huy's mouth formed a surprised 'o' which after three blinks was replaced by a wide toothy grin. He lowered the iron bar he'd been holding at shoulder height. He wore only a pair of knee length shorts. She couldn't help but notice his pronounced stomach muscles. Despite her resolve she took a step backward.
'You come looking for me, huh?' Huy purred in a honeyed tone, his grin wider than ever.
'No.' She winced, shaking her head. 'I mean, yes. But... just stop being a jerk, okay?'
'Hey, Dũng!' Huy called over his shoulder, 'you'd never believe it. Phượng is here!'
'Alone?' the minion's head popped into view.
'Oh,' Huy leaned over the threshold, looking left and right along the corridor. 'Yeah, alone.' He stepped aside from the doorway. Sweeping his arm in a graceful wave motioning Phượng inside, his mocking grin remained. On another it might appear pleasant, but she knew Huy. He was always awkward, always trouble.
She took four steps into the room. She refused her lips involuntary effort to grimace, and forced a smile. The room was disgusting. The curtains were pulled over so only a few cracks of light shone through. A fan rattled noisily. There was no air-conditioning. Magazines, DVD's, and clothes littered the floor. The room hadn't been tidied recently; if ever. It stank of sweat and days old cooking. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised with young boys like these left to their own devices.
Huy leaned against the wall, his fingers toying with his metal bar. He continued to regard Phượng with a smirk. He didn't ask what she wanted. She knew he was waiting for her to show her hand.
Dũng sat on the floor, leaning against one of the beds. He muted the TV volume, observing her with muted curiosity. His head turned to Huy. 'What does she want?'
Huy kept his sight on Phượng. He held up a finger for his roommate to silence.
Phượng jutted her chin forward in a proud pout. She held her breath for a second. Her focus locked on Huy.
'You two know what is going on, right?'
Huy shrugged, gesturing impatiently for her to continue.
'You're just going to sit here in your room?' she said in an even tone. She glanced around at the room then back to Huy.
He barked a short laugh. Shaking his head, he flicked his thumb across his
eyebrow. 'What are you getting at, little sister?'
'Little?' she closed the three paces between them. 'I'm not hiding at home. If anything, I'm big sister to you.'
Huy's jaw dropped in mock shock. 'Oooh! You hearing this, Dũng? Oh, man!' He slapped his thigh. 'Girl, you got balls. I give you that.'
Phượng held her breath. She'd expected this sort of reaction. She had to get his attention. 'Huy, shut up. Invite me to sit.'
'Alright.' He nodded. His sardonic smile lingered, but she had piqued his curiosity. Walking to his unmade bed he pushed aside a mess of clothing. He sat and patted the mattress. 'Come, sit next to your lil' bro.'
She strode to the nearest of two desks, and wheeled the desk chair across the floor. Its small plastic wheels ran over discarded magazines and papers. She stopped it opposite Huy and sat.
'You too Dũng,' she called out, her gaze still on Huy. 'Come sit next to your roommate.'
Dũng approached with his shoulders hunched. Phượng wondered if he was nervous of her sudden assertiveness, or of sitting on his roommate’s bed. Following a permissive shrug from Huy, he perched lightly on the edge of the bed. She felt sorry for him. Dũng wasn’t bad, but led astray by his foolish friend. How did Huy hold him in thrall? Did Dũng envy his masculinity? His popularity with certain girls? Dũng was never favoured among girls. Even though he let his hair grow long, and often wore fashionable clothing brands. His quiet nature, plain face and weak chin made him look geeky.
'You should have brought your friend, Vân,' Huy simpered. 'We'd have been a foursome. A better number.'
She crossed her legs, interlocking her fingers atop her knee, hoping she looked confident. 'You two can't fail to see what is going on, right? You didn't spend the last days playing computer games online I hope.'
The boys looked at each other, Huy smirked. Dũng emulated the smirk but his searching eyes betrayed his confusion.
Huy jerked his thumb toward Dũng. 'This guy plays computer games. I'm not a geek.'
'Of course,' Phượng said flatly.
'There's no internet.' Dũng frowned, incredulous.
'Anyway,' Huy puffed out his chest, 'we've seen first-hand. We've been out in District five. Some Chinese shops got burned. Now everyone’s fleeing. Chinese and Vietnamese. We're staying put. No Chinese gonna chase me away.'
Phượng tried to force a smile; her mouth formed a thin line which was half grimace. She shuffled the chair forward so that her knees were almost touching theirs. She leaned forward and addressed the boys in a low conspiratorial tone. 'Chinese soldiers are in the city even now. The radio says the bulk of the invasion force isn't far behind. It's up to us to cause trouble for the enemy until our soldiers can defeat them.'
The two boys stared her with blank, dumbfounded expressions. She waited for them to take in what she was getting at. Dũng watched Huy who regarded her with wrinkled nose and knitted brow.
'What are you talking about, Phượng?' he growled, 'what do you think you can do against the Chinese Army? Are you crazy?'
Phượng licked her lips. She'd opened her pitch. Now to hook them. 'Already people are organising networks to resist what will surely be an occupation. I've been speaking with an elder who fought before. He has tasked me to form a resistance cell. We'll make a small group and do whatever he asks.'
'I don't get it.' Huy shook his head, wincing.
'She wants us to join her.' Dũng said.
Tutting, Huy jerked his elbow at Dũng. 'I got that, bro! What I mean is why would someone make her leader?'
Phượng wrung her hands. She'd expected Huy's disbelief, arrogance and resentment. She was just a girl. Athletic but not physically strong. Smart but no chess player. Huy could tell her to get lost and start his own cell if he wanted. He’d likely find a half dozen thugs and rogues to follow him. She only knew one thug. She needed him. She might not be a chess player but she'd played blackjack, and she still had cards to play.
'It’s not for us to question,' she said softly, 'I need tough men to join with me. I choose you because you're strong, and won't back down from a fight.'
Huy clenched his jaw, scowling. 'Who appointed you?'
'I can't tell you.'
Huy stood up sharply, flinging his hands in the air. 'How do we know you haven't made it all up? You expect me to follow you? Stupid bitch!' He swiped his palm through the air.
Phượng couldn't help but flinch at the outburst. She gripped the armrests. She could feel her pulse in her temples and wondered if the boys could notice it. Huy finished waving his arms like a chimpanzee defending his territory. He panted. Spittle glistened on his lower lip.
Phượng arched an eyebrow; hoping she appeared confident. 'The structure is secret. All cells report to a section leader. Only the cell leader knows who to report to. That’s the way the elders worked during the American war. That's the way we will work. It protects us all.'
Huy pushed past her. He paced like a caged beast. He kicked a discarded shoe to the far side of the room. 'I don't follow orders.'
Phượng smiled at Dũng. He looked back at her with a vacant expression.
'Brother,' she said; her voice soft and honeyed, 'you've known me some years. You shared my lunch one time. You know I wouldn't deceive you.'
Dũng nodded. His lips moved in silent affirmation.
'Where are you going to get weapons? You stupid bitch!' Huy snarled.
Swallowing, Phượng stood, closing the gap between them. She looked into his face. His anger gave way to confusion and surprise at her continued boldness.
'The leader has contacts in the military. I can say no more about it. We'll have weapons, booby traps… everything we need.'
Huy barked a short laugh. His eyes narrowed; scrutinizing her. She resisted the urge to blink. Her trembling fingers curled into fists. After what seemed like a long time Huy nodded.
'Okay. I'm in. If you can get weapons.'
Phượng nodded. She allowed a hint of a smile, but was unable to stop it spreading into a wide grin. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his toned torso. 'Welcome, brother,' she whispered in his ear. His own hands rested awkwardly on her back as if he were unsure how to hold her. With a sigh, the worry flowed out of her. The manly scent of sweat and his clumsy strong hands protected and reassured her. She had mastered the beast. For now.
'What about me?' Dũng squeaked, 'or did you just want Huy?'
Phượng sat down beside him and patted his leg. She felt him tilt slightly away from her; embarrassed by their proximity.
'I need you too, brother,' she chimed, 'I need strong and smart men. You're articulate, good at drawing. I've seen your manga pictures, and you're good at arithmetic. We need someone with an eye for detail. I'd bet you're a deadly shot.'
'I never fired a weapon,' he mumbled.
'You'll do fine,' she rested a hand on his shoulder, then her chin upon the hand. 'Will you join us, brother?'
'Uh, yeah,' he looked to Huy for approval.
'Who else you got?' Huy snapped.
Sitting upright, Phượng brushed down the front of her skirt and cleared her throat.
'I came here first. We'll have four in the cell. That's how they work. Just four people.'
'So small,' Huy sniffed, 'who'll be the fourth?'
'I'll ask Vân. I trust her.'
'Alright!' Huy grinned. The cockiness was back. 'This deal got better already.'
'Welcome aboard, revolutionary soldiers,' Phượng said with a mock salute.
The boys chuckled. She shivered. A new weight was suddenly upon her. She'd finished her mission, but if she failed to deliver on her promises or live up to expectations she dreaded to think what Huy would do.
Tuấn
5th March, 16:00
The traffic passing Mrs Tam's café Tuấn had barely moved in twenty minutes. All routes were congested. Families of up to four sat on one motorbike. Other bikes were laden with furniture or bags of possessions to the extent that drivers strug
gled to hold their bikes steady. Tuấn was glad of the shade from the umbrella over the café table; the discomfort of drivers looked intolerable. Certainly their thirst for water seemed unquenchable.
'Three hundred and twenty-five,' Mrs Tam responded to one sweaty driver’s demand for five bottles.
'You're robbing us!' the driver snarled; even as he handed over a 500,000vnd note.
Mrs Tam was selling drinks at a rate she couldn't have dreamed. The chalk board which normally read 'Mrs Tam's cafe' now read 'Soda; 50,000, water; 65,000.' Seven times the usual price. She'd marked up the price of water by 10,000 in the last half hour alone. Tuấn wondered how long before she increased the price again. He also wondered what use all that paper money would be when the city fell to the Chinese.
'Oh yeah! I win!' Minh cheered, hoisting his fists above his head. He and Lâm had been watching two cockroaches fighting. The loser; on its back kicked its little legs as the winner began to devour it. 'We should've bet on them!' Minh raised his voice over the din of the traffic.
'Why?' said Lâm, 'the loser was already injured. Who'd bet money on that?'
'Because it has better odds,' Minh said tersely, shaking his head.
'Everyone's leaving,' said Thuỳ. Like Tuấn, her attention was on the traffic. She sat in her chair with her knees tucked under her chin, and thin arms hugging her legs.
'More iced coffee?' Mrs Tam asked Minh.
'Nah, you want 55 for that? I only got thirty.'
'For you, thirty's fine,' Mrs Tam smiled, removing Minh's empty glass from the table.
Many vendors had packed up. Some like Mrs Tam stayed put; perhaps having nowhere better to go. Or perhaps they were just too damn stingy to run for their lives when they could make easy money.
Lâm sucked on his straw, trying to absorb every drop of Pepsi from the edges of his glass.
'Will you stop making that stupid noise,' Minh snapped.
The March of the Dragons Page 8