targeted.
“Stop up there,” said Mara, pointing to an open lot at the left ahead. There was a large barnlike building at the back of the lot. A pair of gas tanks sat just in front of it.
Mara jumped from the truck and ran to the pumps. Kerfer and the car pulled in behind them.
“What are you doing?” yelled the SEAL commander.
“There’s gas here. Come on!” yelled Mara from the tanks.
“You’re nuts, lady,” said Kerfer.
Squeaky put the truck in gear and steered over to the pumps. Mara already had the handle out. As she pushed it into the opening, a fresh salvo of shells, these much closer, rocked the ground nearby.
A small, thin man came running from the building and began yelling at them.
Mara reached into her pocket and held up some bills, but they didn’t seem to calm him. He stood a few feet from her, arms pumping up and down.
Squeaky leaned out the window of the truck. “Should I pop him?”
“No. Go. You’re full.” Mara pulled the pump out of the truck. “Get out of the way.”
The truck lurched forward. Josh twisted around to see what was going on behind them and saw the old man grab the pump handle as Kerfer drove up.
A shell whizzed overheard, crashing across the road close enough to throw some bits of dirt on the truck. Mara tried pushing the old man away, until finally she’d had enough — she slugged him in the side of the head, sending him into the dirt.
“Whoa, she’s got some fight, spook lady does,” Squeaky told Josh.
Two more shells landed nearby, this time on the left. The old man got to his feet and started yelling again, even as he backed away from Mara. She topped off the car, then put the hose and nozzle back. She held out money, but he refused to take it. Finally she threw it in his direction and ran to the truck as more shells hit the ground.
“Go, let’s get out of here,” she said.
The wheels kicked dirt and dust everywhere as they sped back onto the highway.
“Didn’t want to take your money, huh?” said Squeaky.
“The gas was for his family,” said Mara.
“That’s too bad,” said Squeaky. “You shoulda kept the money, maybe. ‘Cause we’re so low.”
Mara didn’t answer.
“What was firing at us?” Josh asked.
“Probably some sort of Chinese destroyer,” said Squeaky. “More than one. We’re not too far from the water.”
“Were they close?” asked Josh.
“In the bay, at least. Maybe up the river. Vietnam doesn’t have much of a navy,” Squeaky added. “Probably right offshore. Take care of whatever defenses they might have — probably pathetic to begin with. They probably sailed right up, bombing whatever they wanted. Nothing the Viets can do to them.”
Josh slumped back in the seat. M?’s face was buried in his shoulder. She sobbed silently.
“So it gets easier from here, right?” Squeaky asked Mara.
“ ‘Easy’ is a relative term,” she said, turning her face to her window.
23
He took a U-turn and got off National Road 1A, heading back toward Cam Le Bridge. But the attacking Chinese ships had already put it out of commission. His only alternative would be to go farther inland, through the Tuy Loan suburb, before heading southward.
He found a row of cars stretching before him on the highway when he reached Route 14B. Several were abandoned, and the way was clogged with traffic. Even with the scooter, it was difficult to get around the jam. He treaded back and forth, hunting for open spaces, stopping and starting, several times going backward to try a different path.
The side roads were just as bad.
It took nearly two hours to travel three miles. By then the Chinese vessels had withdrawn. Smoke wafted on the breeze, clinging to the highway and the area around the rivers.
The bridge that took 14B over the river had been damaged by the assault. A barricade had been placed on the eastern bank; opposite him, a lone policeman stood in front of a small sawhorse, warning away cars and the curious.
Jing Yo stopped near the barricade, examining the roadway. It sagged about halfway across but otherwise looked intact. The bridge itself was only fifty meters long.
Jing Yo decided he would brave it.
“Are we going across?” asked Hyuen Bo.
“If we don’t go here, it will take us another hour to find a crossing,” he said. “And we’ll be even farther from our direction. Do you think we can make it?”
“If you do.”
“Hold me tightly,” he said, pulling her arms around him.
He revved the scooter and shot forward. He’d gone no farther than ten meters when the road started to give way below. It dipped, then sprang back, as if it were a diving board. Jing Yo tacked left, easing off his accelerator. The road swayed left, and there was a loud noise, the crack a tree limb makes as it collapses in a heavy storm.
Jing Yo knew the road would not come back up this time. He accelerated, charging forward as the steel supports under the bridge swayed and snapped, one after another.
The policeman turned around and began waving his arms at him.
Ten meters from the end of the bridge, the right side of the road folded and fell below. Jing Yo hunkered against the handlebars, willing the scooter to the extreme left, clearing the remaining pavement as the deck collapsed.
He nearly ran into the policeman, who was too stunned to react as they sped past.
They drove on the highway for a few more minutes, until they were almost in Dai Hiep. Jing Yo slowed as they neared a cluster of stores and shops.
“Are you hungry?” he asked Hyuen Bo.
“If you are.”
“We’ll get something to eat,” he said. “They have too much of a head start now for us to catch up.”
Part 2
Bystander Killed in Hotel Melee
Boston (AP-Fox News) — A mother of two was killed by a stray bullet today as armed hotel guards broke up a robbery attempt outside the Boston Crown Hotel.
The guards, all off-duty policemen, are a common sight at business-class hotels in Boston and most major cities, as crime against businessmen has spiked. The robberies are seen as part of the general spike of crime and violence against the wealthy as the country’s economic downturn continues…
