Shadows of War

Josh took it and handed it to her. She took a bite, then began to devour it.

“You’re the scientist, right?” said Kerfer, rising.

“Josh MacArthur.” He held his hand out.

“Yeah, let’s get going,” said Kerfer, not bothering to shake. “We have to get as far away from those Commie bastards as possible before this rain lets up.”

27

Northern Vietnam

The van’s windshield wipers slapped frantically at the raindrops, pushing them off the glass with a hard squeak. Zeus squinted and leaned toward the steering wheel, trying to get a good view of the road. He had his high beams on but even so could barely see twenty feet in front of him.

“We’re coming to that intersection,” said Christian, looking at his GPS. “It’s a half mile away.”

Zeus backed off on the gas, slowing to almost ten miles an hour. Though asphalt, the road surface was very slippery. He’d nearly gone off the road twice while turning.

“You drive like an old lady,” said Christian.

“You’re welcome to take my place.”

Zeus found the road and turned up it, slipping in the mud as the incline increased.

“This road goes straight up,” he told Christian.

“Hey, we’re in the mountains, right? You wanted a shortcut. This is it.”

The van rattled and slipped; the transmission and the traction control working against each other. The rear end began slipping to the left. Zeus started correcting, but the rear end kept moving up.

He started to think he would have to turn around when the hill abruptly crested. Zeus jammed on the brakes, skidding on the wet pavement. He stopped crosswise in the middle of the hill.

Christian glared at him.

“I didn’t do it on purpose. Jesus,” Zeus told him. “Like I’m saying, if you want to drive, be my guest.”

“You can drive,” he said.

“Where the hell are we, anyway?” asked Zeus, not quite ready to start down the steep hill.

They were about three kilometers from Pho Lu, midway across the Con Voi mountain range. The SEALs had jumped in about fifty kilometers to the west. Lao Cai, thirty kilometers north, was still in Vietnamese hands — but feeling increasingly nervous, as the Chinese had continued to mass troops nearby and started shelling the place. The small Vietnamese army contingent there would not be able to hold them off if they crossed the line.

“We can move down to that farm near Pho Lu,” said Christian, “and wait for them there.”

“It’ll take them all night to get to us in the rain,” said Zeus.

“Perry said under no circumstance are we to go beyond the river,” said Christian.

“Yeah.”

The rain pounded on the glass. Zeus put the truck in gear and gingerly began downward. Not trusting the tires, he began pumping the brakes. As soon as they slowed almost to a stop, he let off, built a little speed, then began pumping again.

“I think you got it,” said Christian.

“Don’t jinx me.”

A series of switchbacks began about a half kilometer down. These were easier to navigate, though if anything the road was even more slippery because of accumulating runoff. Zeus angled the van as he made each turn, sliding with the mud but still retaining control.

“Man, you’re gonna get us killed,” muttered Christian.

“I keep telling you — you want to drive, take the wheel.”

The road began curving around the side of a cliff, leveling above a jagged valley. Pho Lu sat somewhere at the left end of the valley, though in the dark and the rain it was impossible to see. Zeus spotted a pull-off to the right and drove into it cautiously, flicking off the lights but leaving the engine on.

“Let’s check on them,” he told Christian.

“Yeah.”

Christian picked up the satcom, punching in the frequency for the Bangkok CIA station coordinating the pickup. Zeus leaned back, trying to stretch out. The long drive had knotted his muscles.

“This is Major Christian. We’re near Pho Lu. What’s their ETA?”

Zeus watched out of the corner of his eye as Christian listened to the CIA officer in Thailand. The dashboard’s glow made his look even more sinister than normal.

“Why? What’s going on?” asked Christian.

Zeus pushed upright in the seat.

“We can’t wait here all night,” said Christian.

“What’s going on?” asked Zeus.

“They don’t have the bikes. They’re walking.”

“Walking? What is that, fifty klicks away?”

“As the crow flies, maybe.”

“Let me talk to him.”

“I can handle this.” Christian put up his hand, warding him off. “Tell them we can only wait until dawn. After that — ”

“What do you mean, we’re only waiting until dawn? Where the hell are they?” Zeus reached for the phone.

“I have this, Major,” said Christian.

“Get directions for where they are. Get coordinates.”

“I have this.”

“Get coordinates.”

“Yes, we want coordinates,” Christian told the CIA officer in Bangkok. “We’re not waiting around here all night.”

Christian entered the coordinates into his device, made sure he had the frequency for the SEAL team, then signed off.

“You don’t really think we should go there, do you?” he said to Zeus.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Perry’s going to be pissed.”

“What’s the alternative?”

“Going home and having a beer,” said Christian, pulling his rifle up from the floor of the cab. “We have to take a right about three kilometers down the road.”

28

Northern Vietnam

The helicopter had burrowed into the hillside as it crashed. It was unlikely anyone aboard had survived, but to be sure, someone had to get close and check. Jing Yo had seen so much death over the past few days that he would gladly have passed the duty to someone else, but in the end it was he who climbed over the tangled wreckage to see.

The pilot and copilot were strapped in their seats, compressed in the metal wreckage. The rear compartment was so charred and battered it was impossible to see inside.

The rain continued to pour. Jing Yo tried to pry the cockpit door open with his rifle, but it was so mangled that it wouldn’t budge. The dead men’s removal would have to wait until the rain ended and help arrived.

“I hope this bastard is worth it,” said Sergeant Wu when Jing Yo walked back to him.