Shadows of War

defense minister’s, the accent heavy.

Perry repeated basically the same speech that he had given earlier. He was about halfway through when one of the doors behind them opened.

The foreign minister rose; the Americans followed his lead. Zeus turned and saw Vietnam’s premier, Lein Thap, shuffling around the side of the room, walking slowly to the Vietnamese side of the table. He was an old man, well past seventy, and his gray hair and stoop made him appear almost ghostlike.

Perry began recounting his offer, this time beginning with the president’s pledge. Their translator went to work, putting each of Perry’s sentences into Vietnamese. Thap raised his finger after only a few words.

“Yes, sir?” said the general.

“I know of your president, and have met him,” said the premier, speaking in Vietnamese. “He was our prisoner during the war.”

“Yes, sir,” said the general after the words were translated.

“The United States has been China’s ally for many years now.”

“America is a trading partner with China,” interjected the ambassador, first in Vietnamese and then in English. “Just as we are partners with Vietnam. We have no defense or aid agreements with the Chinese.”

The premier let the comment pass. Perry continued, laying out what the U.S. could do, gesturing toward Zeus to say that a series of suggestions had been prepared as well as intelligence.

“The strategy has been extensively gamed,” added Perry. “We are confident of its success.”

Zeus winced internally at the exaggeration.

“What does “gamed” mean?” asked the Vietnamese foreign minister in English. “The translation is… difficult.”

“Tested. By computer,” said Perry.

The foreign minister leaned close to the premier, whispering the explanation in his ear. If the premier was impressed — or even moved at all — it didn’t show on his face.

If the Vietnamese turned down U.S. assistance, what would happen next?

Zeus hadn’t even thought that possible. Surely the Vietnamese wanted help. But as he studied the premier’s expression, he realized that they might not.

If the Vietnamese were overrun, every other country in Asia would think there was nothing to be gained by opposing the Chinese at all; capitulation would at least spare their people immediate pain.

And then Zeus realized they might be overrun in any event. What happened then?

“It is a strong man who can help those who were once his enemy,” said the premier finally He looked at Zeus. “You will speak to General Trung. If he believes he can use your help, he will do so.”

4

Northwestern Vietnam

Josh walked behind Mara and M?, urging them on as gently as he could, until finally he decided that they were far enough away from the road and possible pursuers that he could lead the way. He slipped between them, carrying M? for a few hundred meters before setting her back down and urging her to keep up.

Pulling Mara away from the burning wreck seemed to have given him new energy. Or maybe it had restored his pride, weakened by the ordeal in the mine shaft. He’d been ready to die there — he hadn’t cared anymore.

Despair was the one unforgivable sin, he’d always thought; he hadn’t despaired that day long ago when his parents had been murdered. It was the most important lesson he’d gained, a hard-earned one. But now it seemed the line was not precise — one moment of weakness did not eliminate the sum of who he was and what he did. He was a survivor, not a victim, a man who tried to do something rather than giving up. Even when it had seemed hopeless, he had tried to go out with action rather than lying down. And that was a better, more precise measure of real despair.

The jungle closed in as they walked, until the vegetation became so thick that the stream was nearly impossible to see. The water gradually turned from a narrow channel perhaps six inches deep to a mushy, widespread marsh marked by a few rocks and dead trees.

Bugs swarmed thickly over the narrow swamp. Josh had become so used to the insects that usually he barely noticed them, but these swarms were impossible to ignore. They got into his eyes and nose, his mouth when he opened it. Finally, he decided they had no choice but to leave the soggy ground. This wasn’t easy — pushing through the weeds and brush felt like pushing through a foam-filled room. A bush would give way to a thicker bush; a momentary hole would lead to a tree trunk. Once they were away from the worst of the insects, Josh tried to move parallel to the stream, but after a while had to give it up and go where the jungle was thinnest.

“We stop here,” said Mara when they finally broke into a small clearing around three large intertwined trees. “Rest.”

“We have to keep moving,” said Josh. “They’re probably following.”

“We stop and figure out where the hell we are,” she told him. “And we need to rest.”

Josh looked down at M?. She had a vacant expression on her face, a desperate blankness.

“You’re right. We should stop,” he said.

He crouched next to M? and gestured that she should sit. He sat down against the nearby tree, patting the ground next to him, but M? remained standing.

Mara leaned against the tree, looking upward. “I think I can climb this,” she said.

“I thought you were tired.”

She frowned but then started upward, slowly at first but gradually gaining speed.

Josh recognized her type — college jock, probably played soccer, a tomboy who felt like a fish out of water once graduation came around. She’d probably looked into joining the army, then settled on the spy business. Maybe she was gay. Most likely.

Not that it was an issue. He wasn’t attracted to her in any event.

He looked at the bushes, examining the leaves. If it had been a different time of year, they’d be full of berries and there’d be nuts on the trees — they’d have something to eat.

“There’s a hill about a half mile that way,” Mara told him as she slid back down to the ground. “There are a lot of trees. The ground should be a little easier to move through.”

“Are they following us?”

“I couldn’t see them. Doesn’t mean they’re not.”

“Do you have your phone?”

“That’s about all I have.”

“Are you going to call for help?” Josh asked.

“The only help we’re likely to get was shooting it out with the Chinese back at the road,” said Mara. “And if they were homing in on you, they may be able to home in on me. Come on — if they’re following us, it will be easy for them to see the trail we cut through the brush.”

“We didn’t cut a trail.”

“The vegetation was pushed to the side. Look — it’s pretty easy to see the way we’ve gone.”

She was right. Josh got up and took M? by the hand, following as Mara led the way to the hill she’d seen. For a while, the brush was just as thick as before, maybe even thicker. But after nearly twenty minutes they began moving uphill. As the incline steepened, the vegetation began to thin out.

The summit was an uneven saddle framed by a group of young trees. The land to the south had been clear- cut of timber within the past two or three years; rotted carcasses of trees that had been taken down but not harvested dotted the new growth. A rutted logging trail meandered off to the southeast.

Mara climbed another of the trees to try and scout the area, but the thin trunk bent before she was high enough to get much of a view.

“All right. I’ll check in,” Mara told Josh after she shimmied down. She took out her phone and walked a few yards away.

Josh debated whether to follow her, and decided he should. She frowned but said nothing to him as the call