Silas frowned, waiting for the news.
“The ships are three miles from us,” she told him. “East.”
“East?”
“Yes, sir. We’re between them and the port,” she told him. “You did it.”
5
There was no way of knowing which of the several bullets that had hit him had killed him. Most had left large gouges in his body, thick angry welts.
The hole near the middle of his forehead was small, cut by a 9 mm bullet. Probably the same one that had grazed Zeus on the cheek, though no one would ever know for sure.
For much of the time he had known him, Zeus had despised Christian. He’d been an uptight prig at West Point, an insufferable know-it-all as Perry’s aide.
A crazy idiot when they’d escaped through China.
But now Zeus remembered him as a valuable soldier. He’d proven himself on the Hainan mission.
And in China, and again blowing the last bridge. Maybe he’d been the one who fixed the charge — no one would ever know, because the sapper had died as well.
Their marksmanship left something to be desired. Out of two dozen shells, only one had struck a tank. The commander, who had precious few armor-piercing rounds to begin with, called a halt to the shelling, deciding that his men would do better once the storm subsided. But the shelling convinced the Chinese that it would be foolhardy to remain where they were, and the lead element attempted to pull back. All but one of their tanks floundered in the flooded ravine.
The bullet that had grazed Zeus had done only superficial damage, but it was a wound nonetheless, and Major Chau insisted that Zeus go to a hospital to get it cared for. Chau was already spooked by Christian’s death, worried that General Trung would hold him personally responsible.
“I’ll tell him what happened,” Zeus assured the translator. “It’s not your fault.”
Chau’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“The company commander says there is a car we can use in the village about two miles back. I’ll bring it back.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Zeus.
They left Christian’s body in the rain. There was nothing to cover him with.
Zeus and Major Chau trudged down the road nearly shoulder to shoulder, silently. When they reached the village, Chau asked Zeus if he wanted something to eat. Zeus shook his head. His stomach was wrenched tight; he’d never get anything into it.
What he wanted was to see Anna. He wanted to see her and hug her and hold her in bed, to stay there for days and weeks.
The car wasn’t where it was supposed to be. They went to the nearest house and pounded on the door. Zeus thought the house was empty and the village abandoned, but that wasn’t the case: the door opened and a middle-aged woman, bundled in a raincoat, appeared.
She knew nothing about a car, but gave them directions to the police station. They weren’t of much help. It took nearly an hour before Major Chau managed to find a vehicle. The owner gave them the keys, deciding it was safer to remain at home.
They drove back to the company, put Christian’s body in the trunk, then reversed course.
A few minutes later, there was a fresh crack in the storm, a loud thud. By the time the second one came, Zeus realized it wasn’t thunder — the Chinese tanks were firing their guns at the village where they’d found the car, deciding to take revenge on whatever they could. Surely they were firing blind. Even if there hadn’t been a storm, the topography and distance made it impossible to see the village from where they were. The only guidance they had were their maps.
Major Chau stepped on the gas.
“They’ll kill everyone in those houses,” said Zeus.
Chau didn’t answer. It was too late to get the people out — the shells were falling rapidly now, and it would be just a matter of luck where they exploded.
Zeus dropped his head on his chest, rubbing the rain from his hair.
Perry picked up on the first ring.
“General, it’s Zeus.”
“Major?”
“We stopped the tanks. They’re definitely stopped.”
“Good.”
“The advance is definitely slowed. For now at least. It’ll take them some time to regroup. They may be able to find a place to get across the fields once the storm stops and the water goes down. But they won’t get to Hai Phong tonight. Or probably not tomorrow.”
“Excellent. Good work, Major. How’s Christian holding up?”
Zeus couldn’t speak for a moment. When he did, his voice trembled.
“Major Christian, sir, didn’t make it.”
Perry said nothing. The silence grew until Zeus couldn’t stand it anymore.
“He… the Vietnamese put demolitions on one of the bridges and something went wrong. He went back and fixed them,” said Zeus. “We went back. And then, uh, he went into the field. There was fighting there, and then, he was trying to make his way back.”
“Where’s his body?” said Perry.
“I have it.”
The silence lasted for only a few seconds, but they were painful to Zeus. Finally, he had to speak.
“Should I bring him to the embassy?”
“Take him to the hospital where you were treated. Someone will meet you there. What shape are you in?”
“I’m fine.”
“Report to me at Trung’s headquarters.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I would guess that the general does not want people to know it is an American officer,” said Chau. “That is why he would be taken to the hospital.”
Zeus closed his eyes as they opened the trunk. A wild thought sprang into his head: it had all been a dream, it hadn’t happened, at least not the way he remembered it.
