'What? Him?' Zhang grimaced, 'he'll get out in District one. I'm not a taxi driver.'
The prisoner glanced between the two foreigners. He looked uneasy; like he might jump out of the jeep if he saw a good chance to do so. Tim felt sorry for the lad; being driven in plain sight in the back of the Chinese jeep. Even if there were few left to witness his disgrace.
'What will you do now?' Tim asked. The boy shrugged.
'Don't go back to your friends in the insurgency,' Zhang warned, glancing at the youth in the mirror.
'I promised I wouldn't.'
'He knew you were lying. That's why he let you go.'
Tim raised a quizzical eyebrow. 'So the boy will lead you to the...uh, insurgency?'
The Lieutenant nodded, looking in the rear-view mirror at the boy. 'Gave you an injection before releasing you didn't they?'
He didn’t speak, but his shocked expression answered the question.
'That wasn't a vitamin boost or whatever they told you. Nanotechnology tracking device. It'll be in your bloodstream for up to a week. They'll be watching you.'
Tim frowned at the Lieutenant.
'You think I'm playing a trick? No. I don't agree with this invasion. At first I supported it out of duty, but... it's not honourable.'
Tim turned to the youth. He remained quiet, cowering in the back like he was being driven to the gallows. The Lieutenant slowed the jeep, half turning in his seat to face his passengers.
'My grandfather fought Japanese invaders in 1937. Their occupation wasn’t so different to this one. My father was a junior officer at the time of the Tiananmen square incident. You understand?'
'No.' It raised more questions than answers.
The officer sighed. 'After Tiananmen my father vowed he wouldn't blindly follow orders. He was a colonel five years ago during the Tibet protests. You know of this incident?'
Tim nodded. Chinese crackdowns in that region and in Xinjiang province were well reported by the anti-communist press and the free Tibet movement.
'What you won't know is that orders were given to violently put down the protests. My father refused and withdrew his troops. He is still serving his prison term.'
'So...' Tim frowned trying to make sense of it, 'you want to be like your father?'
'I want to be a good soldier and regain my family honour. That also means staying true to my father's beliefs.'
Tim looked at the youth who glowered at the Lieutenant. If he believed any of it, his hatred for the Chinese took precedence.
'Maybe you should just go back to your family, Mr Nguyen. Forget the conflict. At least until after these... nanites are gone.' Tim smiled, hoping the student might to some extent trust a westerner. He merely scowled.
'I have nowhere to go other than back to my friends.'
Tim had no answer for that. He presumed he meant friends in the resistance. Half way across a bridge the jeep slowed to a stop. The Lieutenant turned to the boy.
'Here's your stop. Ahead District two; behind District one. For your safety go the rest of the way on foot- and stay out of trouble.'
He hesitated, his face twisted in agonised indecision; as if it were some cruel trick. The Lieutenant made a shooing gesture. The boy climbed from the jeep. As soon as he'd disembarked the jeep moved on. Tim and the youth watched each other until once over the bridge the jeep took a right turn, obscuring the boy from view.
'What was that, Lieutenant? Your good deed for the day?'
The Lieutenant didn't answer.
Dũng
22nd March, 14:45
He hesitated outside the apartment door. The Chinese officer had warned against going back, but surely it was a lie. A trick to keep him out of the resistance. He itched his shoulder where he'd had the injection. Micro tracking device? It sounded too far-fetched. What if it wasn't? Well... there was nowhere else to go.
He knocked even though he had a key. It wouldn't be wise to just walk in. You don't surprise people with guns. There was a commotion; hushed voices. If he had been the Chinese, there would be no mistaking those in the apartment were reacting suspiciously to the door-knock. Maybe he should mention it. The door creaked open a fraction. Huy's face peered through the gap.
'Sonovabitch!' Huy's curse was high-pitched, almost a girl’s voice. He swung the door wide. Grinning and shaking his head in disbelief. Behind him, Phượng knelt on her bed; her hand under the pillow- no doubt gripping her pistol. She stared at him with unmasked confusion.
Huy slapped Dũng's shoulder. 'Bitch I thought you were gone!'
'Uh... It's quite a story.'
Phượng rushed to do the door, pushing past Huy she looked left and right down the corridor. 'Are you alone?'
'Uh-huh. Of course!'
She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. Huy closed the door.
'Calm down crazy leader,' Huy chortled, 'we're glad to see him. Aren't we?'
Phượng gripped both his shoulders. Her grasp was stronger than he might have expected. She looked him right in the eyes. 'Tell me everything. Don't leave anything out from the moment Huy left you to the moment you knocked on the door.'
Vân came to stand behind her friend. Both their eyes burned into him. Shouldn't they be welcoming him? Did they think he was a traitor? He looked to Huy for support.
Huy shrugged. 'Go on, man. I'm eager to hear it too.'
'Right, yeah okay...' Dũng swallowed, gathering his thoughts. Phượng's eyebrows raised, pushing him to get started. 'Well... the patrol surprised me. They searched me and found the gun. I didn't tell them anything about Huy in the Lotteria, I swear.'
Phượng squeezed his shoulders. 'Go on.'
'Uh... they kept me with a bunch of others they'd picked up for like no real reason. They got this whole building full of little cages. I wasn't allowed to ask for water or anything.'
'Did they interrogate you?' Vân demanded.
'Well... yeah.'
'What did you tell them?' Phượng said.
'Uhh... I said I found the gun on the street. They couldn't prove otherwise so said I could go.'
His friends studied him in silence. He knew his story didn't sound credible. He could've made up something, but it would’ve sounded even less convincing. Omissions he could get away with. Why did the Chinese let him go really? Could the tracking device be real? He scratched his shoulder. The skin irritated to the touch but it didn't feel like there was anything under the surface.
'They didn't ask you anything about the resistance?' Phượng said.
'Well... they asked if I was part of any fighting. I said no of course.'
'Do you have your ID card with you?' Vân said, her arms crossed over her chest. She was a tetchy one. He'd assumed she had a problem with men, but she was like that even with Phượng.
'Sure I do.'
'That's it then!' Vân threw her hands in the air. 'They'll know where to find us!'
Phượng glanced at her friend. 'It's not his fault. We knew there was a risk when he was captured.' She released him. Turning away from him she paced the room. 'We can't stay here. After tomorrow we'll move to Vân's place.'
Phượng seemed more intense than before. More like Vân. It wasn't cool sharing a place with them. He was used to being second in the pecking order when it was just him and Huy. Now there were four he was still bottom. It wasn't fair. He was here before the girls.
'Sorry you got caught, bro,' Huy slapped his shoulder again. 'Thought I'd seen the last of you.'
He nodded. Unsure how else to respond.
Phượng turned back to him, her smile apologetic and almost shy. A hint of her former self? 'Sorry, Dũng. It's nice to have you back with us. Where you belong.'
'Thanks. I had to walk from District One. I could use some water.'
He perched on the side of his bed, then remembering the girls were sharing that bed he felt awkward. He began to rise when Phượng sat beside him.
Her face looked gaunt, stressed even. Maybe it was just that she wa
sn't wearing make-up. Did she ever wear make-up? Her smile was faint, almost tired.
'I know you've had a hard time these last days, but we've got orders. A messenger came today from the resistance. There's an operation tomorrow. Are you up to it?'
He nodded. In truth he'd have liked to sleep for a day, but if he declined to take part they wouldn't trust him. They might even make him go with them anyway. Huy brought him a glass of water. Although it was warm he gulped it down, shaking the glass to get the last drops of nourishment.
'What's the mission?'
Phượng's smile grew. 'I don't know the whole plan. We're joining other resistance groups. There's a big offensive. Bigger than the last one. Sounds like we're throwing everything into it.'
'Yeah.' Vân's smile was sly. 'We're going to take back Saigon.'
Phượng
23rd March, 17:45
'Your cell has been activated,' the messenger told her. She wasn't really sure what that meant. Hadn't they been active for weeks? Maybe nobody was aware of what they'd been doing. 'You're to proceed to Đa Kao market on Nguyễn Huy Tự street, where you'll receive further instruction.'
He stayed only long enough to give her a hand drawn map of the route they'd take to avoid roadblocks, and to instruct them of the exact time they should depart. The twenty-four hours since the messenger’s arrival had been full of nervous anticipation and musing on the forthcoming operation.
They practiced reloading the machine guns as quickly as they could. Huy had been the one to figure out the weapons. He insisted there was a way to dismantle them so they could be concealed and then reassembled before use.
'I've seen it in movies. A trained soldier can reassemble a machine gun from parts in two minutes,' he'd told her. She forbid him to try. The last thing they needed was to reduce the guns to spare parts like expensive Lego kits without any instructions. So the guns had to be transported in the holdall which Huy had brought them home in.
The journey to the market took just a few minutes at full speed; fuelled by terror at the thought of being intercepted en-route by a patrol, but the messenger's information had been correct and exact. They found the doors to the indoor market open and drove their bikes right inside.
The market was normally full of stalls selling handbags, fake designer clothing, imported clothes from Thailand and bad copies of the latest cinema releases on blue-ray. Empty of traders, it had apparently become a forward staging ground for the resistance. There were at least twenty other fighters present. The leader announced himself as a Captain in the Police. Dressed in smart-casual civilian clothing he gave his name as Việt.
The other fighters were a mixed sort; many in their twenties, but some as old as sixty. Most of the older fighters wore simple clothing and looked like they'd worked outside most of their lives. The younger fighters, much like her own group, largely had stylish clothes and hair styles. She was disappointed not to find Tuấn among the amassed resistance members.
There was a good deal of interest in the weapons her cell had procured. Firearms among the other cells were mostly shotguns, revolvers, a couple of pistols and only one other machine gun. Some only had machetes, baseball bats and hammers. What did they hoped to achieve with such simplified weapons? She was reminded of a sci-fi movie in which a tribe of teddy-bears with spears defeated an army of laser-armed space soldiers; that movie was funny and cute. The reality of fighting a trained army alongside people armed with tools was not.
The Captain's cell consisted of four men who emulated his smart-casual look, short hair and moustache. Phượng decided they were all policemen. They brought a small cache of pistols which they distributed; briefly instructing how to use them in much the way that Đức had.
‘Attention! Everyone gather around!’ one of the Captain’s men shouted.
The fighters formed a semi-circle around an upturned crate which the Captain used as his soap-box stage.
'In a little more than an hour, the Vietnam People's Army will launch a massive offensive against targets in and around this city...' he paused, allowing for murmuring among the small crowd to abate. 'Your part in this struggle will be key. We'll support the VPA and ensure the Chinese are cast out of our city forever!'
Many took that as a prompt to cheer. The Captain and his men waved their palms down, hushing the crowd. The meeting was supposed to be secret.
The Captain stuck his thumbs inside his belt. His stance wide and confident.
'The army will strike Chinese bases around the city. There are already elements within Districts 12 and Thu Duc which will spearhead the main assault coinciding with a diversionary attack in District 9,'
Forces across three districts? Phượng wondered how so many soldiers could infiltrate the city without attracting attention. Perhaps Chinese forces were more thinly spread out in those outlaying districts.
'We'll take up positions along this street,' the Captain said, 'residents have been moved to safe locations. Once the attack begins, the Chinese will send reinforcements along this route which we will ambush. Our secondary objective is the district police station. It's a base for the volunteer police and is lightly guarded.'
'How do you know the Chinese will take this route?' someone shouted.
'How many soldiers will there be?' another called out.
'How can we stop tanks?'
'The Chinese navigate by GPS and take the most direct routes. They're too confident to worry about ambush.' Unblinking, the Captain smiled throughout his answers. 'My men have planted demolition charges to block their advance.'
Vân wiggled her eyebrows and mouthed 'wow'. There was muttering and excited talk among the fighters; a definite air of eagerness. They'd picked up the scent of victory. Despite the atmosphere, Phượng felt a nagging worry. There were less than thirty fighters. So they had explosives? The Chinese had tanks, jets, helicopters... even nuclear missiles.
At the Captain's signal, his men pulled the plastic sheeting off a stack of crates. The crates were stacked full of glass bottles; each with a rag stuffed in its top. 'Molotov cocktails,' the Captain declared.
***
Three glass bottles filled with noxious liquid lined the floor beneath the window alongside three ammunition cartridges, or magazines as she'd learned they were called. The machine gun probably only weighed three kilos but quickly became heavy to carry so she set the weapon down against the wall. She checked her watch; straining to read the digits in the dark. The Captain forbid use of any light that may warn the enemy of their presence.
Huy knelt at the next window. Vân and Dũng were positioned somewhere further down the street. Phượng wanted to pair with Vân, but felt the boys needed someone to keep them in check. She couldn't trust Huy with Vân; even if he'd become more human he was still a sex pest; leering at Vân when catching sight of her from an appealing angle, and he couldn't resist the occasional inappropriate remark or ass slapping.
Huy turned to her, making her worry she'd been thinking aloud.
'Yo, is anything actually gonna happen?'
She looked out at the dark street. They weren't working on an exact timeframe. They'd been waiting at least an hour, maybe two. 'Take a rest, but don't go anywhere. I'll keep watch.'
Everything her cell did was rushed and half thought through. Now that she was part of a larger operation it didn't feel any less so. She looked at her three Molotov cocktails. She was sure they wouldn't damage a tank. One of the Captain's men had given her a cheap lighter. She rummaged through the pocket of her jeans to retrieve it. Placing it next to the bottles where she could find it quickly in the darkness.
The Captain wanted her machine guns distributed among the various groups but she'd refused; they'd risked their lives to get them. She wasn't about to give them up to someone who came equipped only with a knife, and who'd likely taken no active part in the fight up to now. The Captain relented on the condition that her cell be divided and take up key positions on opposite 'flanks' of the ambush. That meant Ph�
�ợng and Huy would be attacking the first vehicle while Vân and Minh attacked the last.
Two members of another Cell were stationed in the house on the opposite side of the street. One occasionally waved. At first she waved back. After the second time she ignored him. The entire force was spread along no more than 150 metres, with the bulk of the force at the two ends. She hoped any Chinese convoy that came by was small. She wasn't sure it played into the Captain's plan if they could only trap a portion of the enemy force.
'Hey, what are you thinking?' Huy said.
She scowled. Why did he have to speak so loudly?
'I'm just thinking about the plan.'
'Think it'll work?'
'Sure. Why wouldn't it?'
'I don't know... Because it's frigging crazy?' Huy laughed, 'man… I should've brought whiskey.'
She squinted at his profile in the darkness. Was he scared? Was the bravado a show? He sounded tense. It didn't really matter. Everyone should be scared.
She was shaken from her thoughts by a distant thunderclap. A moment later the glass of the open window shuddered. She couldn’t see the source of the explosion. The battle had begun.
A clatter of glass got her heartbeat racing. Huy cursed. he'd knocked over one of his Molotov cocktails while trying to peer out the window. He fumbled in the dark. Glass clinked as he struggled to set the bottles upright.
'Keep quiet!' she snapped. She bit her lip. She was betraying her own nerves.
'Did you see anything? What was it?'
'No I didn't. It was an explosion.'
'It's starting, sister. We gotta be ready.' He picked up the machine gun he'd propped next to his window.
The report of a second blast was quickly followed by a third.
'Relax,' she said, 'it doesn’t sound nearby. '
Explosions steadily increased in regularity. She saw the orange of a large fireball reflected on the windows from the far side of the street. Then a glow blooming somewhere in Binh Thanh district, or possibly the more distant Thu Duc district. The action was still a good mile away, but had developed into a full artillery barrage. She doubted the Vietnamese Army were the ones bombarding residential Saigon.
The March of the Dragons Page 25