Tiger War

Bolan changed magazines and began firing. Men fell off the roof to the side of the track, some under the wheels of cars. Two managed to get back into the carriage. The trapdoor shut.

'Nark to Phoenix. Nark to Phoenix,' the radio blared. 'What's going on?'

'We have captured a train,' Bolan answered. 'There are flatcars for horses and more cars for men. We are going out by train.'

'You're kidding!'

'I'm on it right now,' said Bolan. He explained about the troops. 'We've got to keep moving so they can't come out of the passenger car and swamp us.' Then he told him what he wanted done. 'Signal when you're in position. Out.'

For the next hour the train went up and down the line, Bolan lying on top of the coal tender. The spot was a good observation post. He could thwart any new attempts by Tiger to attack him from the roof or, when they stopped to reverse direction, from the ground. It also enabled him to see when the train was approaching the end of the forest so he could reverse before they came out in the open. In the grassland they would be vulnerable to spotting by aircraft from far away. Finally he could look out for elephants on the tracks. From the engineer he had learned they were responsible for several derailments.

The radio came to life. It was Nark. 'We're at the track. I'm positioning the men. Got interesting information about the Tiger troops. They're escorting wages to the hardsite. Ly got that from captured prisoners. Are you rolling south or north?'

'North,' Bolan replied.

'When the train comes in sight, I'll go on the track and wave.'

'I'll be watching for you.'

A few minutes later, through the smoke and steam, Bolan caught sight of Nark far down the line, waving his arms. Bolan leaned down and told the engineer to reduce speed. Now came the tricky part. The train had to stop so that Nark's assault party was directly in front of the passenger car; otherwise men would be shooting at an angle and might hit the locomotive.

'You're stopping too early,' Nark said on the radio.

Bolan slid down the coal into the cab. 'Release brakes.'

The engineer swung the brake lever to the open position, and the train picked up speed by a fraction. To come to a stop at an exact point would not be easy. Although they were rolling quite slowly, the number of cars gave them a lot of momentum.

'Good, good,' Nark was saying. 'Slow down again.'

'Apply brakes,' Bolan said.

'A little more, a little more,' Nark went on. 'Here we go. Three, two, one... zero!'

'Stop! 'ordered Bolan.

The locomotive slid to a lurching stop. A moment of hissing silence followed, then the forest exploded with gunfire. Bolan pulled the engineer down, and all three crouched in the cab. Even with the best of plans, there were such things as stray bullets.

For over a minute the Montagnards poured fire into the passenger car from one side of the track, while on the other, a specially positioned machine gun sprayed the windows and doors every time someone tried to get out that way.

Over the gunfire Bolan could hear slamming magazines and clearing bolts. It was like being on a firing range.

Finally there was silence. Bolan imagined the Montagnards approaching the passenger car. A solitary burst fired, glass tinkled, and... silence. There was the sound of running feet along the track, then Nark climbed into the cab.

'They've surrendered,' he announced.

'Good,' said Bolan, lifting himself to his feet. 'Let's load.'

Chapter 10

It was sunset when they finally steamed out of the forest. It had taken over two hours to load. First, ramps had to be built to get the horses onto the flatcars, then platforms had to be installed to turn the ore wagons into two-story cars, which doubled their capacity. In each car the floor was taken up by men and equipment. Over their heads was a bamboo platform on which stood more men. Even with these additions, however, they were short of space, and men had to sit on the locomotive, the passenger car roof, between the legs of horses, on couplings, and some hung from outside ladders.

'Colonel Phoenix's war train,' Nark joked.

'Some war train,' said Bolan. 'We look more like an army in retreat.'

They stood on top of the coal tender of the moving train surveying the long line of overcrowded cars. The car directly behind them was a flatcar with horses and men, then came two ore wagons full of men bristling with guns, then the passenger car with its rooftop passengers, then more ore wagons interspersed with flat-cars. Over fifty cars.

They chugged at ten miles an hour through the savanna toward the next forest, trailing a pall of smoke, the machinist whistling nonstop to scare off elephants. Herds were crossing the line on their way to the evening watering, kicking up dust colored pink by the setting sun. The sun hung in the western sky over a ridge, a flaming disk.

'Isn't it beautiful!' said Nark, looking in the direction of the setting sun.

Bolan nodded, feasting his eyes on the sight. When men roll to war, everything that represents life takes on added meaning, he reflected. For him, a sense of added meaning was always present, for he was forever rolling to war. For him, the meaning was justice by fire.

'How soon do you figure we'll be in Py Fung?' asked Nark.

'If everything goes well, two hours,' replied Bolan. 'Then another three by trail. We should be in position, ready to attack, before midnight.'

'What about the train?'

'We'll park it in a siding. The engine driver says there's enough canopy to hide it. We'll put a bullet through the tank so he can't report us. He'll have to walk to town.'

'You told him?'

Bolan nodded. 'I'm paying him a thousand bahts for the inconvenience.'

They steamed into the next forest. It got darker and cooler, and in the confined space the wheels seemed much louder. Solan's stomach tightened. The two hours it took them to load would have given the Thais plenty of time to put troops on the line as well. Bolan glanced behind him. The men in the ore wagons stood by the sides, guns pointing at the bordering forest. Bolan raised the radio to his mouth.

'This is the colonel speaking. All headmen, please remind your troops of the orders. We are not to fire on Thai troops even if they fire on us. I repeat: we do not fire back, even if we take casualties. Out.'

'I don't think we have to worry too much on that score,' said Nark. 'While we were loading I heard the headmen telling their men that if anybody shot at the Thais they'd have their wages confiscated. I get the impression they realize your order is as much to their benefit as ours. When this mission's over, you and I will leave, but they have to go on living with the Thais. It's better not to rub your neighbor the wrong way too much.'

'Let's hope you're right,' said Bolan.

The fear of a firefight with the Thais was a constant worry to Bolan. From experience he knew that fire control is one of the hardest orders for troops to follow. When bullets fly and men around you fall, it takes real discipline to resist firing back.

On this mission Bolan felt like a trapeze artist who has to perform two tricks at once. He had to destroy Tiger without killing any Thais who got in the way, a frustrating position for a commander to be in.

The president had told him, 'Your hands will be tied from the very start. If under the circumstances you prefer not to undertake the mission, I'll understand and we'll abandon it.' But Bolan had a personal reason for