Shadows of War (48 page)

Authors: Larry Bond

Northern Vietnam

Josh didn't find any animals
big enough to eat in the jungle beyond the fields. Nor did he spend much time looking. Part of the problem was that he didn't want to leave the others for very long, M

especially. But mostly it was because his patience had evaporated. He'd spent it all waiting in the shed and now wanted, needed, to move.

To get out of here. Maybe they should just start walking and the hell with waiting for the night, as Mara seemed to feel.

Or help. What more help did they need?

When he got back to the shed Mara was sitting next to M

, listening as the girl spoke. They were so intent that he didn't want to interrupt; instead, he took a seat on the ground next to them. Mara had found more rice and oranges in the basement storage area, and cooked them together in the pot where she'd cooked the rice earlier.

He helped himself to the concoction, listening as the girl spoke, even though he had no idea what she was saying. The words seemed to rush out of her mouth, as if they were pushing against one another. She gestured with her hands, motioning up and down, pointing, mimicking, illustrating her narrative with her emphatic body language. Her eyes were wide and darting, as if she were watching what she was describing, conjuring it from the shadows in the room around them.

“M

was born in a small village on the other side of a river or a stream, I'm not sure of the word,” explained Mara when the girl finally paused. “It wasn't too far from where you found her, or where she found you.”

“Is this what happened to her?”

“Yes.”

The soldiers had come at night. They seemed to be Vietnamese, or at least one of them had spoken Vietnamese. But clearly something was wrong. The villagersâabout two dozen people lived in the small community, all related to one another through blood or marriageâwere taken out of their houses and told to wait near a truck that sat in the middle of the settlement. The soldiers didn't say where they were going.

was scared. She wanted to bring her blanket with herâit had
been a special blanket that she had had since she was a baby. The soldiers said she could not.

As the people were being marched into line, M

decided to go back for it. She snuck away, not thinking that anyone was watching. But someone wasâas she darted toward the house, the soldiers began shouting.

Then firing.

Petrified, M

ran into the jungle, dodging and darting through the trees in the darkness, running until she couldn't run anymore. In the meantime, the soldiers had killed everyone in the line.

She had caused all the deaths. It was her fault that her brothers and sisters, parents and relatives, had all died.

collapsed in tears. Both Mara and Josh held her, trying to console her.

“It wasn't her fault,” said Josh. “Tell her that.”

“I don't have all the words,” said Mara.

“Tell her.”

“I'm trying.”

He'd felt the same when his parents died. He still felt that way, deep down, after all these years. It was a deep pit of regret and guilt that could never be filled, even though he knew, logically, that it was the killers' fault, not his.

“Tell her it wasn't her fault,” repeated Josh.

Bangkok

“
You're going to have to give me a better
fucking location than that,” growled the stubbled face on the video screen. “I ain't jumping into a six-mile-square box.”

“I'll give you a precise location,” said Peter Lucas. “You'll have real-time data down to the millimeter when you're in the air.”

“I fuckin' better.”

Lucas pushed his chair from the console. He liked working with the SEALs because they got results. But there was always a price to be paid
in terms of ego. The most easygoing SEAL held anyone who was not another SEAL in contempt.

The man on the screen, Lieutenant Ric Kerfer, was hardly easygoing. Kerfer wasn't civil even to other SEALs.

But he was absolutely the man to rely on in this sort of situation. Lucas had worked with him before, with excellent results. There were even indications that Kerfer
liked
working with himâthe high cuss count, for example.

Still, he was one grouchy and disrespectful SOB.

“You arrange exfiltration yet?” Kerfer asked.

“At the moment, you're going to have to walk out,” said Lucas.

“Fuck that.”

“I can't get a helicopter in there,” said Lucas calmly. If he had been able to get a chopper, he wouldn't need the SEALs. “I thought maybe you'd be able to steal local transport.”

“You just told me the area was evacuated. What did these people use to get out of there? You think they just left their vehicles parked around? Hell no, they drove. Or fucking walked. What's my solution?”

“I don't know, Kerfer,” said Lucas, finally losing his patience. “You tell me what your goddamn solution is.”

For the first time since he came on the videoconference line, Kerfer smiled. “Bicycles.”

“Bicycles?”

“We ride them out of there. I did something like that in Pakistan,” the SEAL lieutenant added. “Almost like a picnic.”

Lucas reminded him that there was a little girl with them.

“So we get her a little bike.”

“If you think bikes will work,” said Lucas, “go for it.”

“All right. Get them to the drop area.”

“Me?”

“Helicopter picks us off the sub in half an hour, Petey. We fly straight to Okinawa and leave as soon as we get there. You either get the bikes aboard the jet, or get them there yourself. Your call.”

“All right. They'll be on the jet.”

“I ain't biking all the way to Hanoi. It'd be okay for me and my boys, but your people are going to crap out. Arrange a truck to meet us somewhere halfway.”

“Not a problem.”

Maybe he could find a Vietnamese national to leave a truck somewhere. He could use the embassy.

Not that he trusted them worth shit, as Kerfer would have put it.

“We're set, Petey?”

“Yeah, we're set,” said Lucas. “And don't fuckin' call me Petey.”

“Always a pleasure, Petey,” said Kerfer, laughing as he killed the connection on his side.