Behind him, seventy-five yards away, the ponytailed man stepped outside, and standing under the porch, he swung the heavy M-60 up, smacked the cartridge belt into the receiver and charged the first round into the chamber. He threw the rest of the belt over his shoulder and walked toward Billy Death.
‘Hey!’ he yelled. ‘You, the one they call Billy Death.’
The Haitian turned toward him. The man stood with legs spread Out at the edge of the river with the M-60 aimed squarely at the ex-Tonton assassin.
‘Drop the gun,’ the man ordered.
Billy Death stared uncertainly at him, then back out at Hatcher. He hesitated a moment to long before he swung the AK-47 around at the man with the M-60.
The heavy machine gun roared kicked, rippled the muscles of the ponytailed man. Half a dozen shots ripped into Billy Death’s chest. His own gun went off harmlessly into the air as he was spun around by the burst. His knees buckled. He floundered, staggered to the edge of the river and fell to his knees in the water. His arms went limp, the AK-47 fell into the water and his chin dropped to his chest. Billy Death fell sideways and rolled over on his face in the water.
The man walked back into Leatherneck John’s, unloading the heavy machine gun a s he strolled across to the bar. He put the M-60 back on the rack and dropped the ammo belt on the shelf below it.
‘You better be long gone when they get this mess under control,’ Leatherneck John said.
‘I was thinking the same thing,’ the ponytailed man said.
‘Why the hell’d you do such a crazy thing?’ the barman said.
‘I told you, I didn’t like the odds’
‘That’s it, you didn’t like the odds?’
‘You know what a HALO drop is?’ the ponytailed man asked.
‘Sure, high altitude, low open parachute jump,’ Leatherneck answered.
‘I did a HALO drop in the Delta back in ‘74. It was dark and the wind changed and I missed my zone by half a mile and came down in a bamboo thicket behind Gook lines. A bamboo shoot went right through my foot and came out my shin, right here.’
He pulled up his pants leg and pointed to an ugly scar near the middle of his shinbone.
‘I was pinned to the ground by this ten-foot shoot of bamboo and Charlie was all over the place. Then all of a sudden this guy appears from out of nowhere, breaks the shoot off and piggybacks me a half a mile back to the drop zone. Then he’s gone again, just like that. Never said a do-mommy word to me the whole time. Later on, somebody told me it was this guy Hatcher everybody calls Occhi di Sassi — Stone Eyes. Now, do you understand?’ He turned to Daphne. ‘Tell Hatcher Jonee Ansa says thanks — we’re even now. You might also tell him to check out a section called Tombstone in Patpong. Place called the Longhorn. A lot of the ex-GIs in Bangkok hang out there.’
The ponytailed man turned and vanished out the rear exit of the saloon.
On the river, the Cigarette boat suddenly burst through the smoke pouring off the barge. The pilot saw Hatcher and Cohen in the river. He steered the sleek speedboat toward them and slowed as he pulled beside them. One of the gunmen reached over the side and grabbed Hatcher’s wrist. They locked hand to wrist and he pulled him up.
Another of the henchmen reached over the side and pulled the still-groggy Cohen aboard.
The slender boat cut an arc in the river, swung into the dock and picked up Daphne and then roared back through the broiling smoke of the ruined barge, which tilted crazily as if struggling to stay afloat and then slid hissing and groaning to the bottom of the river.
‘Well, I’ll say one thing for you, Christian,’ Daphne said, ‘you sure know how to burn your bridges.’
jo sahn
As they headed back downriver, darkness settled over the boat like a shroud. Cohen and Hatcher had stripped off their wet clothes. Now they were huddled in the cabin of the big boat to keep warm. Daphne had remained on deck.
‘I can’t believe you do this kind of thing for a living,’ Cohen said.
‘Did,’ Hatcher corrected.
‘As far as I’m concerned, you’re still doing it,’ Cohen said. ‘In the last twenty-four hours I’ve had all the excitement I’ll ever need.’
‘If it’s any consolation, so have I,’ Hatcher said with a smile. ‘Got any brandy on this tub?’
‘All I’ve got is some Amaretto.’
‘Not on an empty stomach.’
Cohen huddled deeper into the blanket. He stared at Hatcher for a moment and then said, ‘Give it up, Hatch.’
‘Give what up?’
‘Don’t be thick.’
‘I told you, before, China, I can’t do that.’
‘Yeah, I know. Honor, integrity, old school tie. Isn’t it a little late for that?’
