Shadows of War

They waited as the floodlight approached.

“You sure about this?” whispered Josh, sidling next to Mara. “They found us before.”

“If they were using an infrared system,” she answered, “they can’t right now because of the rain. See how low they are? They’ll pass right by us.”

“Okay.”

The helicopter seemed to pause as it came closer to them. Mara tucked her elbows in against her sides, holding her breath.

The chopper kept moving. No one said anything for a few minutes. Then Kerfer rose and went out into the road.

“It’s heading south,” said the SEAL. “Let’s get moving. Geek boy, you okay with that kid?”

“Fuck yourself,” said Josh.

“Fuck yourself back. Scientists.”

* * *

Josh’s legs ached from his hips to his ankles. He felt as if his bones had been replaced with stiff metal rods, and his muscles were battered rubber bands, overstretched and unable to keep his joints together.

M? had grown unbearably heavy. Finally she began to slide down, out of his grip; he leaned forward, barely able to deposit her on the ground before dropping her.

She clung to him, unwilling to walk.

“I can take her,” said one of the SEALs.

M? grabbed Josh’s leg more tightly as the SEAL gently touched her shoulder. Josh felt bad for the sailor.

“It’s okay, M?,” he told her, dropping down. “We’re all friends, honey.”

She said something in Vietnamese, then buried her head in his leg.

“Her whole village was wiped out by the Chinese,” Josh explained. “I think she’s just afraid of anybody in a uniform.”

“Poor kid. Crap. What bastards.”

“Are you coming with us?” barked Kerfer.

“Man, he’s a jackass,” muttered Josh under his breath. He nudged M?, moving his leg to get her to walk with him.

“Ah, his bark’s worse than his bite,” said the SEAL.

“I heard that, Little Joe,” snapped Kerfer. “My bite is worse than my bark. You got that, kid.”

“Bite me,” said Josh.

The SEALs cracked up. Even Kerfer laughed.

“Good one, geek.” He came over and punched Josh’s shoulder, nearly knocking him over. ‘‘Now keep your ass moving. The Commies are still looking for us.”

* * *

“I think I hear the truck,“ said Mara.

The SEALs peeled off to the side, leaving her in the road. Kerfer took her gun and went by the shoulder, kneeling as he aimed his own weapon at the space in front of her.

“Remember to get out of the way if he doesn’t stop,” said the SEAL lieutenant. “Get far away, because we’ll blow the crap out of him.”

“Thanks,” said Mara.

“Don’t mention it.”

Mara turned around. “You okay, Josh? You got the girl?”

“We’re fine.”

The rain was starting to let up. Mara remembered what DeBiase had told her — it would probably end just as the van came.

A pair of lights appeared around the bend. Mara took a breath, trying to relax herself.

It was their ride. Finally.

“Hey,” yelled Kerfer as the truck pulled around the corner. “That’s no van. That’s a Commie troop truck. Look at the lights.”

Mara froze. She didn’t know if Kerfer was right, but it was too late to run anyway.

She put up her hand to signal them.

She’d throw herself to the left, roll in the mud. The SEALs would take care of the truck and whoever was in.

The vehicle wasn’t stopping.

Damn.

The headlights blinded her.

Mara tensed her legs, swinging her hip to the right to act as a counterbalance. The truck began to skid. The tires screeched as they held, lost their grip, then held again. It stopped about six feet from her.

The driver’s-side window rolled down. A man stuck his head out — a big target for the SEALs, Mara hoped.

“Hey!” he yelled. “I hope you’re Mara.”

“I am!”

“I’m Zeus Murphy, U.S. Army. This is Major Christian. Where the hell are your SEALs?”

“Errp, errp,” said Kerfer, stepping from the shadows as his men surrounded the truck, brandishing their weapons. “You’re our ride?”

“You got it.”

“What do you say we get the hell out of here?”

“Fine with me,” answered Zeus. “I have to pay double if it’s not back in Beijing by sunrise.”

31

Northern Vietnam

Jing Yo folded his arms before his chest, watching the road as the helicopter swung through the valley. They’d been searching now for over an hour; clearly, they were not going to find the scientist like this.

The rain was letting up, but without the infrared detection gear, he and whoever was helping him could easily hide in the jungle when the helicopter passed. But searching on the ground would be almost impossible — there was just too much territory to cover.

He was beaten.

“We have thirty more minutes of fuel, Lieutenant,” said the pilot. “What do you want me to do?”

“Keep searching on this road,” said Jing Yo. Reaching for the radio, he called into the division headquarters, looking for the intelligence officer who was acting as a liaison. “Have there been any more transmissions from that satellite phone?”

“No,” said the officer. “We are monitoring.”

“What about other transmissions? American transmissions on their military band?”

“Their radios are very difficult to detect,” said the officer.

Then an idea occurred to Jing Yo, so simple that he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before.

“The satellite phone that the scientist used — is there a way to get its number?” he asked.

* * *

The more he drove the truck, the more Zeus felt comfortable with it. It wasn’t very fast — the speedometer claimed ninety kilometers per hour, but that was clearly wishful thinking. Still, it was very sure-footed, easily moving through the muddy road and deep puddles along the creek. The rain had almost entirely stopped, but the downpour had flooded the waterway, and it overlapped much of the road. Sections of the highway were completely covered by running water, which fought against the wheels as they started up the