Satori

Nicholai knew that he was right.

“You want tea?” Bay asked.

He shook his head, lit a cigarette instead, and sat down in the bamboo chair at the small table.

“Relax,” Bay said.

“You relax.”

“A man in love,” Bay said, shaking his head. He jutted his chin toward the hatchway. “Go get some sleep.”

“I’m not tired.”

“I said go get some sleep.”

Nicholai went down the hatchway into the hold.

The crates were there.

Crates of rocket launchers.

Bay nodded. “I’ll go back to Saigon and see what’s happening. Besides, there are pursers to bribe.”

“I’ll pay it.”

“Yes, you will.” He called for the skiff and left.

Nicholai went down into the hold, lay down on one of the beds, and tried to rest.

His promise to Yu was almost fulfilled, he had money and papers.

Now there was only one thing left to do.

Get Solange to safety.

149

DE LHANDES WADDLED down the aisle of the cinema.

Michel had said that Solange loved the films. The screen was dim, some film noir, he thought, of the type that he couldn’t bear. De Lhandes preferred comedies or period pieces, with low bodices and heaving bosoms.

Then a daylight scene brightened the screen and he saw her in the third row. He slipped into a seat behind her. She was staring up at the screen and weeping as she dabbed a tissue to her eyes.

“Mademoiselle,” De Lhandes whispered. “Michel is waiting for you. Go out the back. There are men to take you to him.”

He saw her neck stiffen with doubt.

“You have no reason to trust me,” he said. “Only that I am an admirer of beauty and, like all cynics, a disappointed romantic. And I am his friend. Go now, Mademoiselle Solange, before it is too late.”

He waited as she decided what to do.

Then she got up, slid down the aisle, and walked out the back door of the theater.

150

GUIBERT WASN’T at the House of Mirrors.

Nor at Le Parc, nor the Continental, nor Le Grand Monde. He wasn’t on Rue Catinat, the Central Market.

He was gone.

Diamond cruised the streets. If he couldn’t find Hel, he’d find someone who would tell him where he could.

151

HAVER FORD WALKED the narrow alleys of Cholon.

If the Corsicans had sent another killer, it meant that Nicholai was still alive, and he figured that Hel would most likely run to a neighborhood where he spoke the language and knew the customs.

But no one had seen a tall kweilo who fit Hel’s description, or at least no one was talking.

152

BERNARD DE LHANDES was looking for a decent meal, reading the sidewalk boards that listed the evening’s fixed-price menus when the men jumped out of the car, grabbed him, and shoved him onto the floor of the backseat.

“Where is your friend?” Diamond asked.

“I-I-I don’t know.”

“Tell me before I hurt you very badly.”

But De Lhandes did make them hurt him very badly. He made them bruise organs and break bones but, in the end, he couldn’t stand the pain.

“Forgive me, Michel,” he wept. “By the sacred blood of Saint Joan, forgive me.”

He told them what they wanted to know.

153

“THE RUNG SAT?” Signavi questioned.

“That’s what the little bastard said,” Diamond answered. “Believe me, he was telling the truth.”

The French paratrooper found the information troubling. “The Rung Sat is Binh Xuyen country.”

Diamond didn’t want to hear it. He’d already gotten the word that La Corse had botched the hit on Haverford, and that the smart-mouthed son of a bitch now knew about his connection to Operation X and the heroin trade. And now Hel had made it out of Saigon, into the so-called Swamp of the Assassins, which could only mean that he was under the protection of Bay Vien.

“I don’t care if he’s in the pope’s living room!” Diamond yelled. “You have troops, send them!”

Signavi shook his head. Americans were so clumsy – they would always use an axe when a stiletto would do. “The Cobra will track him down. We don’t want to get in the way.”

“Yeah? Is the Cobra as good as the guys you sent to kill Haverford?” Diamond asked. “Listen to me – if ‘Guibert’ gets away he takes Operation X with him. It’s over! We’re finished! You think Bao Dai is going to sit around and watch all his money go down the chute?”

He could see Signavi wavering and pressed, “We know that the woman is on her way to Guibert. Send a team, get it done.”

Signavi nodded.

154

JOHN SINGLETON SAT and contemplated the Go board.

He had acquired an appreciation for the game during his days in China, but could find no one in Washington who could give him a decent match, so he preferred to be alone and play both sides.