'The moment the guys below attack, Minh and I will shoot those guys by the river. You two run downstairs. Thuỳ cover the front door, Lâm the back. We'll be a minute behind. Questions?'
Yes! She wanted to scream. Why are you splitting us up and making me go on my own? Instead, following Lâm's lead, she just nodded.
'Go!' Tuấn whispered, nodding toward the staircase.
Lâm slapped her shoulder, winked, then rushed ahead; pausing at the stairway to check that she was following. She rushed to him. Minding less about any noise she might make than the vulnerability of being isolated from her comrades by even a few metres. She felt safer when there were four of them. Did they really want her to watch a door by herself?
'Take it easy,' Lâm whispered. Could he sense her apprehension? Or just expect it?
She remained a step behind him all the way to the ground floor. She wrinkled her nose. She'd forgotten about the body. How could she forget? She shrunk back from its horrifying shadow.
'Stay low,' Lâm whispered.
Gripping her pistol with both hands, she slid her feet over the tiles so as to make no sound that may affront the corpse. She found the front door to be ajar by a crack through which she could see nothing other than shadows and the yellow-orange glow across the river.
She looked back hoping to see Lâm. Instead she saw the dark outline of the body. The face wasn't clear, but she knew those dead eyes were staring at her. She jumped at the sudden burst of gunfire. It sounded so close. She wasn't sure if she yelped or just imagined she had. She clamped a palm over her mouth. The shots came from behind the house. She heard shouts, cries, more gunfire.
What was she supposed to do? Just wait? Tuấn only said watch the doors. She took the door-handle, pulling it wider gently to get a better look outside. The sounds were terrible; a cacophony of hell. Screams, cries, and machine guns blasted through the night in horrific concert.
The silhouette of a man ran alongside the river. He threw his arms up, arcing his back, his legs gave way and he fell. She pulled the door closed. How did she get into this? She found herself asking that question too frequently. She should be studying. Not fighting for her life. It was all so unfair.
The idea of standing up to invaders had been romantic. She envisaged something like organised protests and rallies. Fooling herself that it could stay peaceful. She felt stupid for not realising what it entailed right away. Her initial enthusiasm died almost instantly. She'd almost quit at the start. Her conscience urged that she must do whatever needed to be done for the nation. So here she was, gun in hand, hoping she didn't need to use it.
There was a rush of footfalls on the staircase. Someone had snuck in- approaching fast! Troi oi! The man from the chair! She tried to aim at toward the staircase but her shaking arms couldn’t keep the gun still. A form came into view, moving fast, closer. Her finger quivered over the trigger. Just as she was about to shout 'stop', it did stop. It had seen her. She couldn't move.
'What the hell are you doing? It's me!' Minh rasped.
She lowered the gun. Realising she'd been holding her breath, she sucked in air. Minh walked down the last few steps followed by Tuấn. Among the black shadows she could only make out their eyes and the shape of their bodies, but she could sense them looking at her with those questioning expressions she’d become used to; 'Is she crazy? Is she stupid?'
'Pull yourself together,' she murmured, biting down on her lip. The men seemed to find it easy. None of them said anything about the terrible incident at that shop. Were they coping with it? Or just better at subduing fear and guilt?
'Come on. Let's go!' Tuấn urged, storming off past the corpse.
Minh’s eyes remained on her. He nodded after Tuấn, prompting her to go next. She smiled before realising he probably couldn't see it in the dark. She knew he wasn't being chivalrous. He didn't trust her behind him.
The back door was open. Lâm stood over the threshold. He glanced their way. She wondered how he could detect their approach over the loud gunfire.
'They’re a local cell,’ Lâm said, ‘I spoke briefly with the leader. He wants us to support their attack.'
Tuấn said something, but an explosion near enough to cause a tremor drowned out whatever it was he was saying. Illuminations from fires, explosions and flashes of gunfire reflected from walls and windows. Light was dangerous in this fight she knew, but the darkness was terrifying. Anything could be in the shadows, waiting.
She felt Minh's breath on her neck. He was standing so close. She stepped aside and he immediately occupied the spot she'd been in. Trying to crane his neck over the shoulders of the other two to get a view down the street.
Tuấn was giving some instruction. She only caught a few words. He made cutting gestures with his hand. The other boys nodded. She caught the scent of burning. Along with the flashes and bangs it reminded her of firework displays during the Tet holiday. Tuấn and Minh turned her. They had those expressions on their faces again.
'Ready?' Minh said, his tone harsh. Maybe he'd asked already and she hadn't heard. If they're going to talk in a huddle that excluded her, what did they expect?
'Yeah ready!' She said, trying to sound chirpy. Holding the pistol up to show she was ready. Ready for what? She wondered.
The boys darted into the street. She followed, unsure of their destination or intent. The bag of medical supplies thumped against her hip. Momentary flashes acted as a spotlight on them. Each crack of gunfire seemed like it could be directed at her.
It was hard to see what was going on. It felt like a movie filmed from the perspective of a shaky camcorder. The boys rushed to the wall of a house; ducking into the shadows. They were near the end of the street. The fighting sounded close. The ascending ramp up to the bridge was partially visible. Flashes illuminated the road to the bridge.
She realised she had her finger held over the pistol trigger. She scolded herself... Never run with scissors, or a loaded gun primed to shoot. Tuấn was making hand signals like he was directing traffic. His intent was clear; turn left at the end of the street, stay low. They'd be running straight to the fighting- wasn't that suicide? Before she had a chance to dwell on it further, Tuấn was back in his half-crouching run, followed by Lâm then Minh.
As they neared the last building in the alley, a tank on the bridge came into view. Tuấn held his hand up for them to stop. He crept to the edge of the house. He poked his head around the wall, cursed and turned back to them, shouting against near deafening roar of gunfire.
'Hell is breaking loose out there!' He took a second glance around the corner. 'Okay, we're going under the bridge! Don't stop. Keep moving. I'll provide covering fire. Lâm, go!'
Tuấn aimed his gun around the corner; firing in short bursts. Lâm broke into a sprint; legs pumping, strong arms cradling his big machine gun. He didn't look left or right- just kept going until disappearing in darkness under the bridge.
Then it was Minh's turn. He stood poised to sprint.
Tuấn nodded at him. 'Ready?'
Minh nodded yes. Again Tuấn stepped out to fire two of shots. Minh ran. Tuấn fired twice more before Minh was out of sight. Tuấn turned his attention on Thuỳ.
'Okay, Sister. Hold on. Get ready.'
Gunfire and shouts were constant. She would be sprinting past death. She moved cautiously to corner. She could see the underside of the bridge; it provided a good deal of cover, but there were bodies between here and there. Civilians- all men by the look of them. Their limbs splayed haphazardly as if they'd been thrown in the air to fall lifelessly back to earth. Was this the remains of the local cell Lâm had spoken to?
Peering further around the corner she saw more bodies. A vehicle was ablaze in the road. Gunshots flashed between the railings along the bridge and from nearby buildings. It was impossible to tell friend from foe. She'd seen enough. She moved back from the corner.
'Ready?' Tuấn said.
She shook her head no.
'Go!'
&
nbsp; Tuấn leant around the edge of the building, aiming his weapon.
She ran. The fear that gripped her made her run spasmodic. Her legs wobbled. The satchel seemed to drag her back, but she pumped her arms fast. She thought the pistol might fly from her grip, and didn't care much if it did. Lâm was waving her on. Something sliced the air overhead and behind her. Bullets hadn't passed so close to her before, but the sensation was unmistakable.
Then finally she was in Lâm's arms. He stumbled back a step from her bodily impact. Dropping the pistol, her arms enveloped his torso. Her face buried into his chest. Gunshots continued, but she was safe under the bridge. Protected by the big muscular engineer. After what seemed like the briefest of moments, his big hands moved to her shoulders, gently pushing her away. She clung to him.
'Thuỳ, we need to get Tuấn across. You need to let go.'
She forced herself to release him. Tuấn was still on the far side of the road. Was it that narrow? It had seemed much wider. He was reloading his weapon.
When Tuấn ran, both Minh and Lâm fired shots toward some unseen target. Remembering her own weapon Thuỳ knelt to search for it. The ground under the bridge was blanketed in darkness. Her foot kicked the gun. She caught a glimpse of it skidding further under the bridge. Running after it she snatched it up. By the time she turned back to her comrades Tuấn was already safely across.
'Thanks,' he panted, 'let's cross to the other side of the bridge.'
The width of the bridge was about 20 metres. At a jog it would take seconds, then they'd be back in danger; shooting, being shot at. The boys took off running. Did they even notice she was still there? They kept within a few metres of whoever was nearest. In the near pitch black under the bridge it was hard to tell who that was. She had to keep close- the water's edge wouldn't be far- it was a few metres drop and she couldn't swim.
Emerging on the far side of the bridge was akin to emerging into daylight. Aside from the flicking from flame and gunfire there was street lighting across the central reservation of the bridge. As on the opposite side of the highway, there was a side lane running alongside the bridge. The highway was flanked by a large pagoda. A brightly painted metre-high wall ran around the exterior. The pagoda tower stood about eight stories tall; partially obscured by trees, but cream walls and orange roof tiles reflected fires from the street.
They followed Tuấn as he snuck up side lane. A brilliant flash lit up the sky accompanied by a resounding boom! She felt it ripple through her body. Were the Chinese dropping bombs? Shouldn't they get back under the bridge? Ignoring the danger, Tuấn knelt at the side of the bridge where the elevation was low enough for him to see over onto the road while being provided hard cover. The two boys took up position alongside him, taking cover from an iron girder running along the side of the bridge.
She squatted next to Lâm. On the far side of the road not far from where they'd been moments before was a six storey office building; on fire from the ground level. She presumed it was the source of the explosion. Six military trucks were parked in a line down the road; two were smouldering husks. She looked left, she'd nearly forgotten the tanks on the bridge. One was still silent and immobile; a man slumped over the hatchway of its turret. The other tank was certainly operational; its big gun rotated. It had been pointing at the flaming office block and was amending its aim for a shot at a new target.
'Fire!' Tuấn screamed.
The three boys' machine gun barrels flared. Thuỳ aimed at the tank. There were soldiers around the tanks- some already falling from the shots of her comrades. Others darted for cover. She searched for a target but each time she pointed the pistol and looked down the sight, the target had moved.
The tank rolled down the ramp. Its great barrel recoiled; spewing a brilliant sunburst. In the same instant a fireball erupted from two houses adjacent to the recently decimated office building. The frontage of both houses crumbled. Windows along the block shattered. The flash from the blast caused white spots to form in her vision. She blinked.
'Tank!' One of the boys shouted. Surely he hadn't just noticed it?
Sparks rippled along the tarmac nearby. She blinked again to relieve the effect, then realising the sparks were ricochets from gunshots. The boys were already ducking to cover. A strong hand grabbed the front of her polo shirt, tugging her down.
'The pagoda!' Someone shouted.
She saw flashes of gunfire from the top level of the pagoda. Two of the boys scrambled back the way they'd come. She struggled to find her feet as they rushed by- brushing her aside. She didn’t pay attention to which boys it was, she was more concerned about bullets. The rough hand which pulled her down now pulled her up and pushed her. Guiding her onward.
'Not under the bridge! We'll be trapped!' someone shouted.
One of the boys fell. The other pulled him back to his feet. Whoever was leading took a left turn under a gaudy sign hanging over the entranceway to a courtyard. She glanced back toward the pagoda. Relieved that it was obscured by the tree line surrounding the square.
A restaurant stood in darkness at the far side of the courtyard. Thuỳ thought they were heading for it, but the boys ahead cut a diagonal route across the yard. She could hear them panting heavily- betraying the desperation of the situation. If one Chinese soldier got line of sight on them in the open ground, he could cut them all down as they fled.
At the yard’s far side, one of the guys pushed through a tangle of branches, behind which stood a waist high wall. He vaulted over. The second boy slumped against it and more flopped than jumped over. Without hesitation, Thuỳ followed.
She landed hard on concrete. Her backside took the brunt of the impact, but the shock knocked the wind out of her. The drop was more sheer on this side; some two metres. She found herself on the footpath beside the riverfront. The second boy over the wall lay crumpled on the floor. She saw now it was Minh. Tuấn pulled Minh’s arm over his shoulder, supporting his weight. He must have injured himself in the fall. She stuffed her pistol into her belt. The medical kit was encumbering her movement. She gave thought to ditching it, but Minh and Tuấn were already moving.
Flames from the far side of the river reflected on the water. She felt exposed and vulnerable on the riverfront. They could easily be spotted from the bridge and the opposite bank. Helicopters still circled Phu Nhuan district. A radio call from the soldier's they'd escaped from could bring the searchlights this way.
They jogged along the path. She wondered why they didn't run faster- it was madness to dally. Tuấn led; still supporting Minh who seemed to have trouble using his legs. The road curved to the left, and soon they were out of sight of the bridge.
Tuấn peeled off down an alleyway littered with plastic bags, which judging by the smell were full of refuse lain uncollected for weeks. Her footsteps splashed puddles as they muddled through the dark, narrow lane. It hadn't rained in weeks so she didn't want to think what the puddles were.
'We need to get inside,' Tuấn said.
That seemed like a great idea. The alley developed into a twist of unlit lanes between high walls surrounding courtyards and gardens. There were plenty of houses they could hide in. The problem was that most homes had some kind of security grate over the door. They would take some getting through and it wouldn't be done silently.
'There!' someone said.
Over a nearby wall a stood a golden Buddha bathed in lamp-light; a temple. It would be open too. Probably.
Lâm covered their retreat. Holding his assault rifle at waist level like some action movie star. Tuấn still supported Minh, who's feet dragged more than walked. She knew how to make a splint. Maybe she'd prove herself useful after all.
The group dropped to the floor at the sound of an approaching helicopter. There wasn't time to run. She could make out its shape; it flew nose down and tail upward, as if it were sniffing the ground. Its engine hummed like a hornet. She wondered why in movies helicopters never made sound until the moment they come into view. Shaki
ng off the idle thought, she pressed her body against the nearest wall. Hoping her small profile would be enough to evade detection. If the helicopter had heat vision, they'd be finished.
The helicopter passed into Phu Nhuan district. Either it wasn't looking for them or Buddha was looking out for them; guiding them to his temple.
'Hell. He's in a bad way.' Lâm gasped.
She followed his gaze. Minh who lay crumpled in Tuấn’s arms. It wasn't a leg injury; he'd been shot. She couldn't see the source of the wound but his blue shirt was stained dark with blood. His head rolled from left to right like he was feverish. She dropped to his side and picked up the hem of his shirt to examine the wound.
'Not out here!' Tuấn hissed, 'get to the temple!'
Lâm slung his weapon strap over his shoulder and stooped to pick up Minh's legs. The boys carried Minh. Cursing under their breath when he groaned in pain.
She ran ahead to check that the temple was open. Like most temples it was ornately decorated. Paintings decorated the pillars either side of the door. A thin metal gate was pulled closed across the entrance, beyond which a length of red carpet ran along the smooth tiled floor. Each side of the carpet stood a tall pair of bronze storks. At the rear of the temple sat a large statue of the laughing Buddha. Dozens of candles in varying sizes lit the temple. She pulled the gate; willing it to not be locked. To her relief it slid aside. She pushed it wide just as the boys arrived.
Minh's t-shirt right leg of his trousers were saturated with blood. Drops of crimson made tiny splashes on the polished floor. The boys set him down on the carpet with Tuấn cradling his head in his lap. Minh's head flopped to his left. His eyes closed.
Lâm stepped aside. Both boys were looking at her. It was her time to act. Explosions and gunfire still raged somewhere outside. She hadn't fired a shot. This was her battle, and she'd win.
Squatting, she dipped her hand in her satchel, rummaging for the first thing she needed. A strange sound came from Tuấn's throat, like he'd meant to shout something but stopped part way through the first sound. His lips were parted and his eyebrows raised questioningly. Was she doing something wrong? Taking too long?
The March of the Dragons Page 29