Gabriel's Revenge (The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic Book 2) (17 page)

Chapter 45

August 27, 1998

As we entered the lab from the bright day, it almost seemed we were walking into a completely dark room. Forced to stop in our tracks, our eyes eventually adjusted to the light level so that we made out the little pools of light dispersed throughout the lab, overhead lights that were focused one per table. Adding to the glow were lights also inside the tables, with controls installed to allow Percy the option of up light, down light, or both.

“Wow,” my young friend murmured, awestruck.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I finally notice the little white coat hovering around the room as if it were a ghost floating through space.

“Holy crap,” Abby exclaimed, “what is that?”

Finally, she made out the form of the small balding man that filled the white coat, his black pants and shoes making his legs seem to disappear in the low light. A small giggle escaped from her when she realized just what it was that she was looking at.

Looking to me with a shy smile, “That had me going for a minute.”

Percy pulled up at a table that was lit from below only, making his image appear even more ghostly with the shadows, his round metal glasses reflecting the light like two small TV screens.

Not wanting to interfere, we waited a few moments, but were soon greeted by, “Well hello, can I help you, help you?”

“Percy, it’s Gabe Celtic, got a minute?”

Percy seemed perplexed as he squinted across the room. Finally rounding the table he approached, looking up at me with a questioning appraisal.

“Well, so it is, so it is,” holding out his hand in greeting. “You had me confused for a moment; your face is so gaunt, and the long hair, but your blue eyes would give you away any day.”

I smiled and grabbed his hand, “Good to see you Percy; how is your mom?”

“Cantankerous, a little more each year,” he said with a smile, “but it’s to be expected at her age, her age.”

Percy had always repeated certain of his phrases, no one knew why, but everybody accepted it. It was the one oddity of this brilliant man.

“Percy, this is Gabriella Tran, my new…unofficial partner.”

“Abby, this is the famous Percy Vogel.”

Abby put on her best grin, shaking his hand with enthusiasm, “Very nice to meet you Mr. Vogel!”

Percy took her hand while looking up at her face. He seemed enamored with her face, taking an almost uncomfortable amount of time staring at it before speaking again. Seeming to realize his faux pas, he quickly apologized.

“Forgive an old man’s intrusion into your space my dear, but you have a very unusual face, I am enamored by your bone structure, bone structure.”

Giggling at the unusual compliment, Abby characteristically took it in stride. “You can stare at my face anytime, Percy.”

Smiling at that, he then got down to business. “I assume you are interested in the note that you sent down here the other day, Gabriel.”

“Indeed I am,” I told him, “as well as this.”

I pulled the evidence bag out containing the second note. Taking it, he glanced over it with an “hmmm,” before setting it down on the nearest table to make his mark, continuing the chain of evidence.

“Hopefully, this will tell me more than the last note did; I assume you believe this to be from the same person?”

I was a little let down by his first statement, hoping that he had found something.

“Definitely, this one is bigger; more writing on it, thought maybe you could do some of that magic handwriting analysis on it.”

“It most definitely could be considered magic; much of it is making assumptions. But it is based on good solid scientific principles; so it can, at times, be very helpful, helpful.”

His analysis of the handwriting in a code book had helped to crack my last case open (
The Ghost Murders
(1)
), revealing that we were looking for a woman accomplice in the string of murders.

“So, you found nothing on the original note?”

“A few smudged prints, the ink is basic black, the scrawling scrip seemed as if the perpetrator was rushed; so no good clues there. This note, however, seems much more definitive; hopefully we will find great things from this one, this one.”

“Thanks Percy,” a little despair seeping into my voice, “we’ll be back in a day or two.”

Starting to leave the room, Percy called after me.

“Gabriel, could I have a moment before you go…alone?”

I was confused, but not greatly concerned as I told Abby I would meet her outside. Walking over to my short statured friend, I say, “What’s up?”

“Forgive my nosiness Gabriel, but I was just wondering… how well do you know Miss Tran…Abby?” 

“Just met her about a week ago, at the Lima airport actually, on my way back here, why?”

Percy was quiet for a moment, weighing information in his head, seeming to be conflicted.

“Is she from around here?”

“I believe she is from Vietnam, Percy…what’s going on it that head of yours?”

He seems to make a decision, “Nothing really, but she has a very interesting face, anthropologically speaking that is. So, you never knew her before you met her in Peru?”

His questions were getting maddening, “No Percy, now you have been skirting around something for awhile now, spit it out! What’s with all of these questions?”

He seemed more than a little hesitant, “Well, it’s probably nothing really. As you know, I’m always taking courses to increase my accreditations, and my current focus is forensic anthropology…the study of humanity. Through studying their bones and other considerations, we try to make connections between people, their history, and their relationships…their ancestors.”

“I’m fairly new at this discipline, but I am extremely excited about what I know so far. Anyway, I like to look at people’s faces, at their bone structure, trying to figure out where their ancestry lies. When I look at Miss Tran’s face, I definitely see evidence of her Vietnamese ancestry there. But…there is something else.”

“Most people would be able to tell she is part Caucasian Percy, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but you don’t need a degree in anthropology to figure that out.”

“No, you don’t. I do however see indications that she has similar bone construction as that of a family in this area, who as it turns out, has a very unique facial bone structure that is always passed on to the descendants, at least all of them I’ve ever met. It’s a very dominant part of their gene makeup. At the very least, her Caucasian ancestors hail from the same part of the world as this family.”

“She has never mentioned being related to anyone around here Percy. Who is it you think she may be related to?”

I have never seen Percy squirm before until that moment.

“Well Gabriel, unless I miss my guess, the family she is related to, related to….is…well…yours!”

Chapter 46

August 27, 1998

“What the hell Percy!” I said, shocked by his outlandish theory.

“Now hear me out Gabriel; I have no way of proving this of course, but your family has always had a uniquely shaped, angular bone structure of the head. You have it; your father had it, and I’ve seen pictures of your grandfather too…it’s very pronounced.”

“Abby has very similar features, very pronounced, more so than her Vietnamese features. I probably wouldn’t have noticed so much except that your face is so gaunt now, the two of you looked like…well, father and daughter standing there. The darkness of the lab helped bring out some shadows that accentuated the similarities.”

“And of course,” he continued, “you did serve in Vietnam.”

“Hell yeah I did, but I didn’t….

Memories flooded back, memories I had pushed out of my thoughts…for decades.

***

July 27, 1973

“
Great idea Celtic
!” I chided myself softly, “
Could
you have volunteered for a worse mission?”

Our Swift Boat slowly made its way up some nameless tributary of the Mekong River.  It was 2:00 in the morning, a hot sticky night, just like every other night in this God forsaken land. There was no breeze; the air so thick that you could feel it pass as you moved through it. I had only been in-country for a couple of weeks and had not gotten anywhere close to getting used to the oppressive heat here. I suddenly had loving thoughts of my life on a carrier that I had given up for this duty.

“Just had to get into the action, didn’t ya?”

We were carrying a squad of marines for an insertion upriver; they were lined up along the sides of the boat on their bellies, rifles pointed toward the banks. I was manning the .50 caliber, standing, with not near enough armor around me for my comfort.

Everything was quiet…until my world filled with a blinding light and a deafening roar. I was flying through the air, then, hitting the water…the last thing I remembered.

***

I shook my head, bringing me back to the present.

“I need to sit down.”

Percy rolled a tall lab chair around behind me, and I sat down. My mind was reeling from the implications of what Percy had just told me. Something like this had never entered my mind…no, this was impossible.

“This is just some sort of guess, right?”

“Oh my yes,” Percy explained patiently, “but an educated one Gabriel, an educated one.”

This was impossible; I had actually spent very little time in Vietnam, having been wounded in the first couple of weeks of my tour when my PCF (Patrol Craft Fast) had been blown out from under me.

More memories of that night mixed into my thoughts, it had not been one of my favorites…

***

I came to in the water, my life jacket having saved me by keeping my head above water. Opening my eyes, there were tracers flying by overhead as Viet Cong along the banks tried to finish us off. I felt with my right hand along my hip….still there, the Colt. I felt a little better for that. The noise was deafening.

Suddenly, there was screaming, off to my left. I could make out someone floating twenty yards off. Turning to swim, searing pain shot up my left arm…it felt broken. Trying to keep low and out of sight, I rolled onto my right side, attempting some sort of side stroke. I tried kicking, pain again, in my right leg. I saw my boat in flames, what’s left of it.

“
Shit
,” I whispered to myself.

Pull with right arm, kick with left leg…slow going. The guy was still screaming. I tried shushing when I got closer, but he couldn’t hear me. I see it’s one of the Marines when I got closer.

“Buddy!”
I whispered loudly, “
Keep it down or they will blow us out of the water!”

He heard me. “Who’s there?”

“Celtic, where ya hit?”

“Something sticking out of my gut…metal”, he pants, “and my head hurts, bad, I can’t see! I need help! Is help coming?”

“Right now it’s just me. Can you move your arms and legs?”

“I can move my arms ok,”
quieter now,
“but my legs…when I move them, the thing in my gut moves too, hurts like hell!”

“Ok, we’re gonna get outta here, I need you to do a backstroke with your arms, I’ll guide you. But for Christ’s sake, keep it quiet!”

He started slowly moving his arms, the power of his strokes surpassing mine easily. We started to pull away from the mêlée; the enemy’s shooting was lessening. I could see some of the gooks along the shore, looking for survivors. I quickly shooshed my Marine again,
“Keep it quiet; they’re looking for us.”

We were heading downstream; soon we were around a bend, out of sight…for now. Would they come in boats, looking? Right then, we needed distance. But soon, we would need cover; it would be daylight in a few hours.

***

“Ah jeez Percy, this is some kind of joke, right?”

“It could be many things old friend, but joke it is not, is not.”

“I was wounded right out of the chute Percy; I wasn’t on duty two weeks when they blew our boat out of the water.”

“Well, it’s quite apparent you survived! Where did you recuperate?”

“Saigon, at an Army hosp…”

Then something hit me….and it hit me hard.

***

I woke up in a hospital, unsure of how I had gotten there. Trying to sit up, I felt pinned down by weights. Raising my head revealed my left arm in a cast, a huge cast. My right leg was also plaster coated, being held up with a cable from the end of the bed by some kind of contraption.

“Well hello there Gabriel!”

A blonde nurse in khakis, double silver bars on her collar indicating she was a Naval Lieutenant. She was studying a clipboard intently, the edges of her lips curled up in the start of a smile.

“Where am I, Lieutenant?”

Hooking the clipboard on the end of the bed, “3
rd
Army Field Hospital, Saigon, and it’s Captain, a huge difference in the Army I assure you.”

“Sorry m’am,” I say embarrassed, and confused. “How did I get here?”

“You were evacuated here after an Army patrol found you along the river. They said you were floating down the river nearly dead. Your right hand had a death grip on a wounded marine, seems you had been dragging him downriver for almost a day.”

I was starting to remember, after we cleared the bullets, we floated down stream for a couple of hours. When it started getting light, I had found a large branch that we latched onto, giving us some cover for most of the day. A few times we had heard enemy patrols along the bank, and I had pulled out my Colt, not knowing if it would even work after being submersed for so long.

Luckily, none of them had spotted us.

Jim…yes, that was his name, Jim Nightingale; he was in a lot of pain, falling in and out of conscious all day long. My wounds only hurt if I moved, or if something bumped into my arm or leg. Then I would have to stifle a scream, which I believe I managed….
most
of the time.

As the day wore on, we were more unconscious than conscious, and at some point, Jim must have let go of the branch. I also remember being thirsty…
very
thirsty.

“Is Jim ok?” I asked her, suddenly remembering my Marine.

“His condition is serious because of his open wound in the river, but it looks like he will pull through. We stabilized him here, but he’s on his way to Hawaii now.”

I felt better that he was still alive; hopefully he would pull through.

My eyes started feeling heavy; I was pretty sure it had to do with the shot the nurse had just given me. Just as everything was getting hazy, I could hear the nurse in the background saying, “It seems you have been nominated for a Bronze Star for your efforts Gabriel, congratulations.”

But I was long gone.

***

Waking in the dark, I heard movement to my left, “Who’s there?”

More movement, and then a beautiful face appeared before me. “Anh Ly,” she said in a loud whisper, “but you can call me Ann.”

She was Vietnamese, very nice on the eyes.

“What is your name?” she whispered again, taking in my injuries. Her English was very good, just a little halting here and there, probably educated at a better school in Saigon.

“I’m Gabriel,” I said, also whispering, “are you a nurse?”

“No, no, I just clean up at night, I have some training in case something happens while I’m here, but mostly I just call a nurse.”

Looking around, she spotted a chair across the room. Retrieving it, she set it down on the right side of my bed, away from the cast on my left that restricted my movement that way. Taking the seat, she started… “So, tell me about your self Ga-bree-all.”