Shock of War

game-changing commander who could do the unexpected.

“Maybe we can blow up the tunnel,” said Zeus.

“How?”

“Those explosives back on the bridge.”

“Zeus… you have to plant explosive in pretty strategic spots to blow up a tunnel,” said Christian. “Or a garage or whatever the hell they have.”

“Maybe we can block the door.”

“You’re crazy.”

“We gotta do something,” said Zeus, starting back for the bridge.

Love

1

On the border of China and Vietnam

The jungle had turned into a melange of grays, with the occasional splash of brown and black. Zeus couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him, and what he did see was jagged and chameleonlike, altering shape as he approached. He found the gully by accident, stumbling into it and sliding down into the water. That hadn’t been his plan, but it worked just fine. The ankle-deep water swelled his shoes; he felt his way along the side of the crevice and worked his way slowly toward the bridge.

“Christian, where are you?” he asked when he cleared the water.

“Up here.”

“We can walk through this channel and we’ll be right under the bridge.”

“Yeah. And get soaked at the same time.”

Zeus kept going. The plan was still only vaguely formed, but it wasn’t the logic of it that drove him — it was the feeling, the emotion, that he had to do it. He had to stop these tanks somehow. He was just going to, whatever it took. Because not doing anything felt like a sharp stab to his stomach.

The shallow ravine widened as he walked. Water squished from his shoes. Something shot overhead, close, in the trees — a bird? A monkey?

Just the wind?

Zeus forced his eyes to focus in front of him. He couldn’t afford other thoughts or distractions.

The noise from the camp seemed louder. They’d be planning on moving out in a few hours. There must be a large infantry concentration somewhere; you couldn’t move tanks through a jungle like this without infantry supporting them.

Maybe they were coming down the road, meeting with the tanks. The crews didn’t seem to be there, either.

He had to stay alert. Apprehension stoked his adrenaline and pushed him on. The overpass loomed ahead.

It was dark underneath, extremely dark. Zeus found the first charge by feel, a blind man slowly groping along the steel. He began collecting them.

In the demolition course he’d taken — that was three, four years ago now? — the instructor had had them assemble and disassemble simple charges in the dark.

That was child’s play compared to what he had to do now. He’d been in a room with dummy charges, his feet dry and stomach full. No one was going to die if he screwed up. There was tension, sure, but it was child’s play.

After they were done, they’d hit a bar.

Two bars, as he recalled.

He followed the wires to the second, then to a third.

“Where are you?” called Christian in a stage whisper.

“Here. The north end. Go the south.”

“All right.”

“You know what you’re doing?”

“I know how to wire them. It’s the dark I have trouble with.”

They had to find the detonators. Zeus suspected there would be at least two, one on each side of the bridge.

Of course, it was possible there would be only a receiver — or worse, bare wires, waiting to be hooked up to the controller or timer.

“I don’t know how the Chinese arrange their demos,” said Zeus.

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Be careful with the wire.”

“You think they booby-trapped it?”

“No,” said Zeus, though in truth he had no idea. “There’d be no reason for that. It wouldn’t be logical.”

“I hope these guys are big on logic.”

Zeus laughed.

He found two more charges, tracing the wire along. Whoever had set up the demolitions had used far too much explosive — a common failing.

“Hey, look at this,” said Christian from the other side.

Zeus made his way over. Christian had found a small mechanical hand unit wired in as a back-up detonating device, a slightly more modern version of the old-fashioned plungers used to ignite TNT in thousands of old Western movies.

“They’re making it easy for us,” Zeus told Christian, feeling his way to the wire connections.

“Can you see what the hell you’re doing?”

“No. You?”

“I can see the screws with the wires and your fingers are nowhere near them.”

Zeus stared down at his hands.

“You can see that?” he said.

“Here,” said Christian, putting Zeus’s fingers on the contact.

“Thanks.”

“You going blind?”

“I didn’t have my carrots today.”

“Always with a joke.”

“I’m rubbing off on you,” answered Zeus. “You’re making them yourself.”

They pulled eight more charges off the bridge. There were probably more, Zeus thought, but they couldn’t carry them.

There were certainly enough explosives to blow a tank, perhaps two or even three, depending on how they were situated.

The moon poked back through the clouds as they walked, sending silver slivers through the trees.

“What’s the plan?” asked Christian when they reached the fence.

“I’m not sure yet.”

“That’s not a plan,” said Christian.