Shadows of War

Unlike its companion, the second chopper had suffered only a few bullet holes in the undercarriage. The pilot and his crew huddled inside out of the rain, waiting in a field about 150 meters from their fallen comrades to hear what Jing Yo wanted to do next.

Back in the belly of the chopper, Jing Yo took out his area map, trying to guess where the Americans would go. They had only two choices — to go back east or south. South would take them into the heart of the Chinese army advance. By contrast, the east, while a much harder trek because of the terrain and vegetation, was wide open.

The rain would slow his enemy down, but still, Jing Yo needed help.

Colonel Sun took the request calmly.

“Lao Cai is being attacked as we speak,” the colonel told him. “The troops there will come south along Route 70. I will see what can be spared. Pursue the Americans as tightly as possible.”

“Yes, Colonel.”

“Do not fail me, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, Colonel.”

* * *

The SEALs formed a cocoon around Josh, Mara, and M? as they walked. They’d brought extra rain gear, though by now keeping dry was a fantasy. Josh wrapped M? in one of the ponchos, fixing the hood so the girl could see out as he carried her. She was heavy — beyond heavy — but she seemed to want only him to carry her. It made him feel proud, in a way, chosen, though part of him would have been just as happy to give up the honor.

He was dead on his feet. He’d sleep for weeks when he got back.

After telling the world what was going on.

Mara trudged a few steps ahead. He was sure she was just as tired as he was. Her reaction to Kerfer irked him; the Navy lieutenant was a hot dog and an asshole, but women seemed to be attracted to that, even smart women who knew better, like Mara. He imagined that she did know better, from personal experience, but still found his charm irresistible.

He no longer thought she was gay. The way she’d reacted to Kerfer ruled that out.

She wasn’t as plain as he’d thought either.

* * *

Mara kept wiping her eyes, trying to keep them clear. Even so, her vision was so blurred from the rain that she practically ran into Kerfer when he stopped short on the road to talk to someone on his satcom radio.

“Hey, your boss is looking for you,” he said, handing her the unit. About the size of a sat phone, it was more powerful and could use an array of different encryptions.

“This is Mara.”

“Hey, beautiful, how are the SEALs treating you?” asked DeBiase.

“Like a million dollars.”

“Ha-ha. Listen, we have the van coming to meet you. You have to get down to the road that runs along Ngoi Bo. That’s a creek. I just told Kerfer about it and he claims to know where it is.”

“If he says he does, he probably does.”

“Yeah, emphasis on the word ‘probably.’ Watch him, Mara. He’s slick.”

“As slick as you?”

“I wouldn’t sleep with him. He’ll never respect you in the morning.”

“No chance of that,” she said. Mara flushed a little. There was no chance of that, now or at any point in the future.

Though he was attractive in a SEAL sort of way.

Josh was attractive, too. But that wasn’t happening either.

“It’s going to take them an hour to get close,” continued DeBiase. “So keep walking. This rain is so heavy, none of the UAVs are getting any intelligence. They’re up. As soon as the clouds clear they’ll see.”

“How long is it going to rain?”

“Half hour, another hour. Probably stop just when the truck meets you.”

“Figures,” she told him before handing the radio back to Kerfer.

29

Northern Vietnam

Zeus stopped at the edge of the bridge. The van’s headlights showed a steady stream of reflections ahead — the stream had overrun the road.

“How deep you think it is?” he asked Christian.

“Not very.”

“I don’t see a rail.”

“Are you kidding?” answered Christian. “The Vietnamese don’t put guardrails on their roads. They don’t even pave half of them.”

“Go wade out and see how deep it is.”

“Why?”

“Because it looks like we’re going to get washed away.”

Christian grabbed the door handle, pulling it sharply and snapping the door open so hard it flew back and hit his leg. He cursed, then stepped out into the rain. Zeus watched as he walked ahead of the van into the water.

He was right. It barely came to his ankles. Zeus started ahead.

“Satisfied?” said Christian, pulling himself inside as Zeus reached him.

“I just wanted to see you wet.”

No sooner had Zeus said that than the water seemed to pick the van up. It moved sideways, drifting with the swollen creek before the wheels caught again at the side of the overpass. Slipping on an angle, nose pointing nearly thirty degrees away from the road, the van lurched and skidded forward, out of the rain.

“So maybe I didn’t walk out far enough,” said Christian when they reached the other side. “Sue me.”

The rain began to slow as Zeus continued passing down the mountain. They slipped across 151, then headed toward the unnumbered road that followed Ngoi Bo, a narrow river that cut across the province’s central plain. They passed through two villages. Neither had any lights on, and it was impossible to tell if there were even people in the houses or not.

“We turn left at that intersection,” said Christian as the road appeared on the left. “We’re halfway there.”

As Zeus started to slow down, he spotted a canvas-topped jeep on the other side of the highway. Two soldiers in rain gear were standing near it, guns under their plastic ponchos.

“Poor slobs,” muttered Christian.

One of the men put his hand up, signaling that they should stop. Zeus started to pump the brakes, but as soon as his foot touched the pedal the rear end of the van began to skid to the right. He backed off the brake and started to steer into the skid, but the angle increased.

“Shit!” he yelled, yanking at the wheel desperately. The van pulled back suddenly, weaving the other way.

One of the soldiers leveled his gun. Zeus tried correcting but the van whipped out of his control. The man fired, riddling the back of the truck with bullets. Then he tried jumping out of the way, but he was too late; the rear end of the truck whipped into him, pinning him against the front of the other vehicle. As they rebounded off, Zeus got the van facing back in the right direction on the road. As he started to jump out to see if the man was all right, bullets crashed through the windshield. He leapt onto the ground, rolling on the wet pavement.

“Don’t shoot us. We’re American!” he yelled, scrambling to his feet. He ran around the side of the van, unholstering his gun. “Stop!” he yelled, turning the corner.