Tiger War

'Open land for five hundred yards, Colonel. And another forest. You want us to cross?'

'Wait until the main force reaches you,' replied Bolan. 'Then we all make a quick dash. The plane could return. Phoenix to Nark. When you cross, keep off the trail.'

'Roger.'

Bolan ran back to his riders. They presented quite a spectacle, men and horses covered in a thick layer of dust.

'Well done, brothers,' said Bolan. 'We tricked them.'

Just then, however, the radio blared: 'Nark to Phoenix. Urgent! Helicopters in the west. Flying north. Major Vang Ky, do you see them?'

'I see them, Mr. Nark, I see them. Many helicopters. One, two, three, four, five, six. And two more. Eight helicopter Mr. Nark. They are Hueys. They are flying for the next forest.... They are over the forest... I see ropes coming from them. Men are sliding down the ropes. Many men, Mr. Nark. Colonel, our way is blocked. What are we going to do?'

'Stand by,' said Bolan. He took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, then sat down by the foot of a tree.

'I guess we didn't trick them after all,' said Heath.

'I guess not,' said Bolan. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. 'Now we're in a real fix,' he said quietly.

* * *

The forest was bathed in a hot afternoon stillness. Butterflies flew about and somewhere an insect buzzed. By the foot of the tree, Bolan went on smoking, head tilted, eyes closed. The mounted Montagnards watched with sympathy. It is at such moments soldiers are glad they are not the officer.

'Suppose we backtracked,' suggested Heath. He squatted by Bolan's side. 'We could take another trail.'

'There are no other trails for miles,' said Bolan without opening his eyes.

'Couldn't we go cross-country?'

'Take too long. We have to attack tonight.'

A hooting whistle sounded from afar. Another train.

'Perhaps we can bribe our way out,' suggested Heath. 'A guy I know did that in Nam. Took a whole platoon through VC lines. Cost him a hundred bucks.'

'That's because he only had a platoon. We're too many.'

'Then let's shoot our way through.'

'Not allowed to shoot Thais. Thailand is part of SEATO.'

'I give up.'

Bolan smiled, his eyes still shut. 'Don't. Two minds are better than one.' How the hell was he going to get his men past the Thais? They fell silent, listening to the buzz of the insects. In the distance the train kept hooting.

Bolan knew there was a way; there was always a way if you were prepared to make the necessary mental effort. Who would have thought one man could ambush two hundred? Well, it happened. How? Because he had imagined ambushing them with an elephant.

Think, think, he told himself. Every riddle has an answer, every lock a key. All it takes is imagination...

The train kept hooting and....'The train!' Bolan sprang to his feet and raced for his horse. 'Paj!' he shouted to his men, swinging into the saddle.

They charged headlong through the forest, Bolan ignoring the thorns tearing at his clothes, the branches whipping his face. Eyes filled with water from the rush of air, he led them crashing through the undergrowth, all his being concentrated on one thought: he had to get the train.

The whistling neared. The train was coming from the south. Soon he could hear the puffing of a steam locomotive. Then, as the locomotive passed ahead of him on the other side of some trees, he could hear the rumble of wheels.

The trees thinned and he saw it: a long line of ore and flatcars. The cars were empty. Perfect.

They rode out of the trees and galloped single file along the side of the track, heading after the locomotive, overtaking the cars one by one. The train moved slowly, as there were many cars and only one locomotive.

A passenger car appeared, the fourth car behind the engine. As he galloped past it Bolan looked up and got a shock. The car was full of troops, and their fatigue caps told him the troops were Tiger. He saw them stare at him with surprise, and then he was past them.

But they quickly recovered; as he was nearing the engine he heard gunfire. The soldiers were engaging the Montagnards. Bolan turned in the saddle and waved to his men to disperse. They veered off and rode back into the trees. Now only Heath was with him.

Bolan passed a flatcar carrying Tiger horses and drew even with the locomotive. He took out his Makarov, grabbed the handrail, and swung himself into the cab. The pistol spat flame twice, and the two soldiers riding escort crumpled to the floor. The locomotive engineer backed against the controls in terror at the sight of this long nose in Montagnard dress, complete with silver collar.

'Stop the engines!' Bolan shouted above the noise of the wheels and the steam.

But the engineer did not react. He seemed paralyzed.

'I'll do it,' said Heath. He shouted that he was the son of a railroad man and had ridden in locomotives. He shut the throttle, and the noise level in the cab fell by half. He took hold of the brake handle. 'Hold tight!' he said, swinging the brake lever to Emergency.

Bolan grabbed the side of the cab as the locomotive lurched. The air filled with the sound of screaming metal, and they slid on the track, wheels locked. Finally, with another lurch, the whole train came to a sudden stop.

For a moment there was silence, broken only by the hiss of steam. Then they heard voices and boots running along the track. Bolan holstered the Makarov and un-slung the AK-74 from his back. He had time to cock before the first Tiger soldiers appeared. He fired, two men fell, and the rest backed away.

'Reverse!' Bolan shouted.

Heath took the reverse lever and pulled, but it would not move. Just then the engineer came out of his dazed paralysis. He gave the lever an expert tug and it fell into position. They could go backward.

'Paj?' he asked.

'Paj! Paj!' Bolan shouted, firing through the side door to keep the troops at bay.

A pair of feet crunched on top of the coal tender. A muzzle flashed and something hot flew past Bolan's ear. A Simonov carbine barked as Heath fired, and a dead Tiger soldier fell headlong into the cab.

The engineer opened the throttle, steam left the engine stack loudly, and the forest began gliding past in reverse. From inside the trees muzzles flashed as Montagnard riders opened up on Tiger troops. A bullet clanged against the cab.

Bolan reached for his radio. 'Mr. Ly, stop firing!' he shouted. 'Cease fire!' All it would take was one bullet through the tank and they would be immobilized.

The train picked up speed, Bolan firing all the time. Now Heath too was firing, crouched by the opposite side door, shooting at Tiger soldiers in the grass who had tried to outflank them from the other side. On Bolan's side, men were running to rejoin the train. Bolan mowed them down.

The train rolled back from the danger zone. 'Okay, Mr. Ly, you can resume shooting,' Bolan told him by radio. 'Try capturing some men so we can interrogate.'

'We will try, Colonel,' the headman replied. 'Many Tiger soldiers are still in the passenger car.' Suddenly his voice turned frantic. 'Look out, Colonel! They are coming from the top of the car!'

Bolan scrambled up the coal tender. A line of men was emerging from a trapdoor. Some were walking along the roof, others were sliding down into one of the flatcars that separated the passenger car from the locomotive.