The Cover of War (25 page)

Looking back up,
she could see Danny's outline. 'I'm okay,' she said.

Danny dropped
down beside her. She looked around, saw what looked like water, and realized
her thirst. 

She said:
'Water,' pulled Danny toward it, and knocked over a stack of tin buckets. The
clang was tremendously loud and reverberated back up the tunnel. She cursed
herself.

She dropped to
her knees and started gulping. It tasted divine. Beside her, Danny drank like a
wild animal.

Poor soul,
she thought.

A feeling of
deja vu struck her.
I've been here before.
But she couldn't recall the
narrow access passage. Then she almost laughed out loud.

During her
training, prior to infiltrating
Saigon
, she had come here for water. This aquifer was the water-point for
an underground kitchen. The narrow tunnel that she and Danny had come down to
escape the soldiers was only a ventilation shaft.

The water lapped
at her knees. She guessed that the motion was caused by the big river to the
south of the knoll.

Even from underground,
she could picture the landscape above: the large, dome-shaped hill that the
tunnel complex had been bored beneath; the never-ending jungle; and the river,
which flowed for several hundred miles to join the
Mekong
.

An image flashed
into her mind: she saw herself swimming under the aquifer and out into the main
river.

'Got it.' she
said.

'Got what?'

'Wait here.
Don't move. I'll be back soon.' She waded into the cool, dark water.

'Are you crazy?'

'You know I am.'
She went under and opened her eyes. Beneath the surface the water was greenish.
She swam down a few feet to the bottom. A rock wall stopped her from going
further. 

She surfaced for
air.

'You okay?'
Danny whispered.

'There's got to
be a way out,' she said breathing in through her nose. 'It's not all black down
there.'

She went back
under, groping the rock with her hands; it felt porous, like limestone. To her
right, the tone lightened. She swam into a cavernous area. She lifted her head
and broke the surface. A gap of several feet separated the water and the cave
roof.

Amai took a
breath and went back down. She could see driftwood bobbing up and down only
feet away.

The river.

Amai re-surfaced
in the cave, took more air, and then sunk back under. Beyond the debris,
sunlight dappled the river's surface.

I need air.

She swam under
the driftwood and kicked up, and broke the surface.

Then she
realized that something was wrong.

She wasn't in
control. The current was pulling her downstream. Fright hit her.
I'll be
swept away.

She saw a log, sticking
out from the bank. She grabbed for it and missed - the current was too
strong. 

* * *

Even before the whistles started blowing,
Danny knew that something had gone wrong.

Where is she?

He knelt at the
aquifer's edge, watching its dark surface, hoping that Amai would re-emerge.
Voices and whistle blasts echoed in the tunnels above, igniting his panic.

They're
coming
, he thought.
Where's Amai?
His skin
crawled.
Has she drowned?

Above, bare-feet
slapped the clay.

The black water
slapped his knees.
Where the hell is she?

Triet's soldiers
were closing in. Danny knew that he had to react. Cigarette smoke scented the
air.

Danny understood
that only two options existed: recaptured and a life of torture; or drowning
with the woman he loved.

I can't be caught
, he thought.
I can't go back in that hole.

Lantern-light
flickered on the wall behind him.

His decision was
made.

He slithered
into the water like a reptile. 

53

T
he jungle hummed as if it knew something was about to happen.

Chaske crouched
on the riverbank, behind a mass of shovel-shaped leaves, peering across the
river. The opposite bank was a sandy beach, littered with boulders. A trail led
west from the beach, tracing the river a short distance before turning into the
green abyss.

'This is it,'
Cam
said.

Chaske nodded.
The presence of the NVA Army certainly suggested that Amai and Danny could be
held somewhere close. He thought:
Maybe
Cam
's right.
His gut squirmed.
What if
she's wrong?

'There,' Golota
said, pointing to what looked like a large termite hill on the far bank. 'Air-vent.
It's a fucking tunnel complex.'

Chaske shed his
day-pack and slung his MP-5. 'I'll go across and have a look.'

'Nice knowing
ya,' Golota said.

Cam
gasped and Blue pointed to the river.   

Chaske saw it
immediately: a body was in the water.

In front of
Chaske the river widened and slowed. The current released the body onto the
beach and it got to its knees and crawled up the bank.

Cam
shrieked: 'It's Amai.' And then she bolted toward the water.

Chaske reacted
instinctively. He shot forward, grabbed
Cam
's ankle, and brought her down. In one fluid motion, he leapt onto
her back and muzzled her with his hand.

'Stay quiet.'
Chaske whispered. 'We won't save her by making noise and bringing every NVA
soldier down on top of us . . . Will you be quiet?'

Cam
nodded in his grip and Chaske took his hand off her mouth.

Cam
's eyes bulged. 'We have to get to her . . . I can swim.'

Chaske made eye
contact with Blue. 'Any sign of Danny?'

'She's alone,'
Blue said, scanning the water. 'Wait . . . Over there.'

Chaske followed
Blue's finger to a figure exiting the foliage thirty yards downstream from
Amai. The figure was a Vietnamese male wearing black pajamas. The man walked to
the water's edge and cast a net into the gentle part of the river.

'Fisherman.'
Blue said.

Cam
looked solemn. 'They're all NVA here.'

Chaske looked
back to Amai. She got to her feet, walked to the water's edge, and looked back
upstream. Her hands went rapidly from her head to her mouth - she looked
distraught.

Amai's actions
made Chaske uneasy.
What's she looking for?

She waded out a
short distance and became visibly frantic. 

Chaske looked
back to the fisherman. The fisherman was looking directly at Amai. The man tied
off his net, and then started moving toward her. Chaske saw that the two wore
the same black pajamas, but white Vietnamese lettering had been painted onto
the back of Amai's shirt.

'It says
'prisoner','
Cam
said.   

Chaske leveled
his MP-5, centering the fisherman in the site-ring. Experience put the distance
at forty yards.

She doesn't
know he's there.

Amai's attention
was focused upstream.

The man closed
the distance to twenty yards.

Still in the
water, Amai turned, saw the man, and turned to run.

Chaske closed
one eye and the gun-sight’s aperture became his entire world. His eye zoomed in
on the Viet Cong’s torso. The foresight centered. Chaske squeezed the trigger
twice. The MP-5 spat two rounds. The action snapped back-and-forward twice,
ejecting two shell casings into the foliage.   

The Viet Cong
staggered, tilted forward, and then fell face down.

Chaske thought:
Did
anyone hear?
He looked and listened for a response to the noise. There was
none. He lowered his MP-5 and looked for Amai. She was waist deep, hauling
something from the water.

It's a body
, Chaske thought.
Hell. It's Danny.

Chaske said:
'Let's
get to them.'

'Fuck you.'
Golota said.

Chaske knew
Cam
was with him. He said: 'Blue. Follow me
if you dare.'

54

D
anny's lungs burned.

He lay on his
back, dazed and gasping for air. He opened his eyes and shut them again. His
eyeballs felt bruised. He opened them slowly and let them adjust to the glare
of the outside world. As his focus returned, he realized he was staring at
Amai. 'Am I dreaming?'

'You're alive.'

'Are you sure?'

'We need to get
out of here,' she said. 'Can you move?'

Her desperation
was contagious. He stood. 'Where to?'

Amai took his
arm.

'I thought you
were gone,' he said. 'I thought I had lost you again.'

Then Danny saw
the dead fisherman; the lifeless eyes looked like Triet's and memories of the
tunnels and the torture wrenched his mind.

Amai pointed to
the river.

A black shape
was emerging from the water. It grew larger.

It was Chaske.

Impossible,
Danny thought.

Chaske rushed
toward him and took him in a wet bear-hug.

'Danny,' Chaske
said. 'They told me you were dead.'

'How the hell
did you find us?'

'Long story-'

'It's no time
for a family-bloody-reunion.' It was Blue; the man from
Bangkok
. 'We gotta get outta here, mate.'

Chaske released
Danny. A Vietnamese woman stood beside Chaske, along with another man. The
woman looked like Amai, but older.
A sister.
The man glared at him; a
look of pure hate.

Danny looked at
Amai. Her flushed face had turned pale. She looked scared. Danny took her hand.
'I know these guys,' he said. 'They'll help us escape.'

Chaske said: 'We
gotta move.'  

'How-we gunna do
this?' Blue said.

'The plan's
changed.' Chaske stated with authority. 'They'll pursue us. We follow the river
west. Lose them in the J.'

The nameless man
said: 'The fuck we do. We'll go east.' He pointed toward the mountain range. 'Gives
us the best shot at linking up with friendly forces.'

Blue cocked his
head. 'Golota's got a point. West takes us straight into the Ho-Trail. The
place'll be crawling. You
know
that.'

Danny didn't
like Golota's demeanor.

'Trust me,'
Chaske said. 'We need to go west. They'll expect us to go east because it makes
sense. Their one-hundred troops will quickly find us that way. West'll buy us
time.'

Golota snarled.
'This is wrong-'

'We haven't got
time for a fuckin' debate,' Blue said. 'The boss says west - we go west.'

* * *

Triet stared at the dead fisherman with
disbelief.

Palm fronds had
been thrown over the body, but blood from his chest had congealed in the river
sand around the corpse.

Despite the
tropical heat, Triet's skin was cold. He was verging on
panic.   

The fisherman
had been shot, but Amai and Danny were unarmed.

How?
Triet thought.
Who shot him?

His conclusion
stunned him. The idea that Amai and Danny had been rescued by an American
Special-Forces-Team was unbelievable; unbearable - but the evidence spoke for
itself.

No one knows
this place exists
, he thought.
How could they
know they were here?

He felt suddenly
sick.
If she gets to a radio, she will stop Tet.

The
Tet-Offensive was Triet's life's work. His entire existence had built,
piece-by-piece, to this pinnacle achievement. There was no way he was going to
let Amai destroy everything his life stood for.

Triet wondered
if this Special-Forces-Team had a radio. He had to find and kill them, before
they transmitted the message that would destroy his life.

Lieutenant Thanh
came out of the trees and ran down the riverbank toward him.

Thanh spoke
through heavy breaths:
'We picked up their trail. We will have them
soon.'

Triet slapped
his hands together. 'Make sure our men know they are up against Elite
soldiers.'

'We found at
least seven sets of footprints,' Thanh said. 'They went west.'

Surely not,
Triet thought.
East toward friendly forces would be the logical
direction.
His eyes darted around as he searched for the logic behind the
unexpected move. 'It's either a deception . . . or they have a helicopter
coming for them.'

The latter
thought made his stomach twist. A helicopter
would
have a radio.

Triet glared at
Thanh. 'Send half the troops east. The rest can follow their trail west. We
won't stop until we find them.'