Casca 14: The Phoenix (10 page)

He threw up a couple of times and went through a bout of the dry heaves before his stomach was able to hold any water. Every muscle in his body ached. Upon examination there were several large purple-black splotches along his rib cage and lower lumbar. The rest of him was just a mass of bruises of varying shades and hues. Trying to get to his feet was a major effort requiring the strong arms of Phang to assist him.

When he could finally speak coherently, his first question was: "Did we get him?"

Phang had to regretfully inform him that they had failed and apologized for the lack of success, taking all the blame on himself.

Casey leaned against a tree for support and shook his head to clear it of the remaining cobwebs.

"It's not your fault, Phang. Who could plan on the damned tunnel falling
in. Besides which, maybe we did get lucky and the son of a bitch is buried back there in one of the tunnels or maybe the fires got him. If we didn't get him we'll know soon enough. If he's dead, it'll take some time before someone else will be able to take his place and get his teams reorganized and back into operation. If he's still alive then we can expect him to make it known by a wave of assassinations as soon as he can put the word out. He's going to be pissed as hell and that will be his way of letting us know about it."

Phang agreed that Casey's analysis was probably correct.

"That is so, my friend. And we did have the pleasure of killing many of his men. The VC will not feel quite so secure in that area for some time to come. Now we have to get you back to your people. It is about ten more kilometers to the nearest South Vietnamese installation."

Casey made part of the trip leaning on the arms of Phang's Kamserai. It took several clicks before his legs and body started to function properly again. By the time they reached the
Nhan Dan Tu ve
outpost where a People's Self-Defense Force guarded the approach to Tay Ninh he was moving if not with grace at least under his own power.

The sun was high in the clear sky when they reached the outpost. Phang had one of his men strip to the waist to show he was carrying no weapons and sent him up to the village gate. He and Casey waited out of rifle range until he returned with a squad of armed South Vietnamese under the command of an ARVIN officer.

Casey moved up to the front to greet them, knowing his Caucasian appearance might keep the South Viets from getting trigger happy at the sight of ten armed men carrying AKs and SKS rifles. The officer, a first lieutenant, had a good grasp of English and quickly understood that he was to radio Song Be and tell them that a Sgt. Romain was with them and to send a chopper to get him.

Casey took one of the Kam's AKs with him as well as a few magazines of ammo. Even if this was a People's Self-Defense Force village he wasn't going in unarmed. Phang was a bit reluctant to leave him until he knew that his friend was safely on his way to Song Be, but he also knew that the presence of his heavily armed Cambodians in the village would be unwelcome.

"I will leave you now. We have several days' march ahead of us before we reach our home grounds. Have your people contact me by radio to let me know that all is well with you."

All this he said in the presence of the Vietnamese officer.

"If I do not get word that all is well, then my men and I will know what to do and who to do it to."

He looked straight into the lieutenant's eyes when he said this. The warning, though veiled was clearly understood. The South Viet shivered as though someone had dug around his father's grave to make room for one more.

Casey shook his friend's hands. "You'll know and we'll meet again. Farewell, Old One, till then."

Phang waited till Casey had entered the gates of the village before turning his back to lead his men home. He had meant every word he had spoken. If harm came to his friend while in the' village, he would return with all his warriors and put everyone and everything there to the sword. Not even the dogs or rats would be left alive to scratch among the ruins.

Gomez had been waiting at HQ since midnight. He knew there was nothing he could do, and until the storm passed he wouldn't be able to get a flight out to check over Ho's camp. But waiting by the radio was better than lying awake in his bunk all night listening to the howling of the winds outside and wondering what was happening. It was a strange feeling to be sitting with a hot cup of coffee in a warm building, while he knew that at that very moment men were fighting and dying in the dark. He felt strangely left out and somehow guilty for not being with them. He had requested that he be permitted to go along on the raid, but Tomlin had flatly refused and made it quite clear that if he did go, the best he could expect when he returned was a general court-martial and expulsion from the service. He was still there the next morning, red-eyed and suffering from a caffeine overdose when the storm passed and he was able to get a reconnaissance flight made over Ho's camp. When the report came in that the camp looked to be destroyed and there were many bodies in evidence all over the place, he called Tomlin to inform him that the camp had been hit though with what final results he didn't know. The colonel was relieved. It felt as though a rucksack full of sand had been taken from his shoulders. That ugly, scar-faced bastard had done it.

"Keep me informed when any more info comes in. I have to know if Ho was snuffed."

Gomez whispered under his breath. "I'm not sure that I wouldn't rather hear it was you."

It was nearly 1500 hours when he had the call come in from the PSDF village that Romain was with them. Rushing out of the office he told the radio man to call the chopper pad and have one waiting for him when he got there. He couldn't stay in the office any longer. He had to know what had gone down.

Gomez had the pilot land the Slick right in the center of the village blowing stray chickens into the air from the rotor blast. Casey was waiting for him. A South Viet officer gave him a hand getting into the bird, then turned his back to the whirlwind as the chopper lifted off.

Gomez had the co-pilot radio HQ at Song Be that they were on their way back and Casey was all right. Yelling over the roar of the chopper, he asked, "How did it go? Are you okay?"

Casey shrugged his shoulders. "We don't know for certain if we got Ho or not, but we damned sure fucked up a lot of his people and his camp."

Gomez was almost pleased that Ho's death was not confirmed. That should give Tomlin a brand new set of nightmares for a while.

Song Be was not the only military installation to receive a radio message that hour.

The South Vietnamese officer made another call on his own radio. This time the message went to the Vietcong Command Center in the Parrot's Beak. He told them of the scar-faced American brought in by a party of Kamserai.

Colonel Ho van Tuyen was given a copy of the message. His face blanched as his lips drew tight and pale. He gave the message to Troung, who had much the same response.

"Comrade Troung, this has got to stop. Why is he still alive?" He stopped any response from Troung with an upraised hand in the form of a fist.

"We must have an end to him once and for all. I do not know what keeps him coming back to us but I do know that he will come again.
You!" He pointed his shaking finger at Troung. "You must see that does not happen. You will go after him yourself. Kill him, once and for all, kill him. Bring me his head. I will have to look in the eyes myself before I can finally believe that he is truly dead."

He paused to try and regain control of himself. Sweat had broken out all over his body. His armpits stank with the superstitious fear of the unknown. "Go to Song Be! Go to Hong Kong. Go to the United States if you have to, but kill him." His voice rose to a near shriek. "Kill him, do you understand me. Kill him or I will kill you. Now go. Use any of our resources that you wish without restraint. But remember, my friend. Either he dies or you die. Now leave me."

Tomlin was not at all pleased with the after action report given him by Casey. The not knowing if Ho was dead was driving him nearly crazy. He had to admit that the operation had been successful in many aspects, but he didn't care if they had wiped out the entire Parrot's Beak. He wanted Ho dead so he could finally get a full night's sleep and not expect to wake up and find his throat slit from ear to ear. Not knowing what else to do he dismissed Casey and Gomez.

"For God's sake go and clean yourself up. Every time you come in here you look like a garbage can. Gomez, can you do anything about this man's appearance?"

Gomez bit his tongue to hold back a response that would have sent him stateside in irons.

Tomlin redoubled his efforts to find out if Ho was still alive. Rewards of a thousand dollars in gold were now offered to any of his agents who could confirm Ho's status, dead or alive. He had to know. If Ho was still alive, then he would still need Sgt. Romain. He didn't like the man. He didn't like anyone that his rank couldn't intimidate, or who didn't defer to him with the respect he felt was his right. This, however, went beyond his personal likes and dislikes. And Romain was still the only one he knew of that had even come close to killing that commie son of a bitch.

Casey was returned to the transient barracks where Gomez left him alone. After a hot shower and meal he hit the rack to sleep the clock around twice. His body needed rest to heal fully. He slept dreamless and deep the two days till a pounding in his mind at last woke him. The pounding continued accompanied by a shout from Gomez.

"Get up damn you. You've got company here and work to do."

Groaning, Casey crawled out of his bunk, put on clean camouflage jungle fatigues to cover up the scars on his body and unlocked the door.

Eyes still half stuck together, with sleep, he tried to focus on the face before him. The voice brought recognition of his visitor before his eyes did.

"I say, you great bloody monster. Are you going to sleep your bleeding life away? There's a war to be fought and fair maids to rescue!"

His arms went around the slender almost girlish frame of Van tran Tuyen. Van had long ago learned to imitate cockney vernacular when he had lived with his father in London. Casey wondered if Van were related in some way to Ho but then Tuyen was as common in Vietnam as Smith was in the States.

Gomez grinned openly at the honest affection being shown for each other by the two men. He knew when to leave people alone. "Look you two. Go and get some chow then come and see me at HQ. I have some word concerning your little mission Romain. But it can wait an hour or two."

With Van at his side, Casey led the way to the mess hall. Suddenly he was ravenous. While they ate canned meat warmed into some kind of a stringy mush on top of powdered potatoes and a nondescript gravy of indeterminate origins, Van dropped his Limey accent.

"You don't look too good. But now that I'm here things will straighten out soon enough. I want you to fill me in on this thing with Colonel Ho. I just got in an hour ago and Captain Gomez said I should get it from you."

Casey stuffed his face with cook's gunk and swallowed. He felt much better now that Van was here. He'd first met the small handsome man a few months ago during an attack on a Special Forces camp in the delta. Since then a bond had developed between them that usually occurs only after one has known the other for years. Van was the only Vietnamese he completely trusted. Between bites of the gunk which Van passed on, he filled him in on what had been happening. He had the uneasy feeling that it wasn't over yet. If it had been, Gomez wouldn't have wanted them to come around after eating.

The day felt good. The sun was warm without burning into one's hide like a blow torch. He answered Van's questions as they crossed the compound to headquarters.

Gomez motioned for both of them to take seats and closed his office door. Resting a hip on the corner of his desk, he lowered his voice to make certain that no one other than these two men could hear what he was going to say.

"Ho is alive. He and his man Troung got out through an escape tunnel. One of our agents came to claim the reward that Tomlin put out. We even ran him through a sodium pentothal treatment to make sure he was telling the truth."

He waited a second to see if they had any questions. Neither one looked surprised to hear that Ho lived. Continuing, he moved back to his own chair and leaned over his desk. "Ho is sending the Bo Doi captain called Troung here to get you, Casey. From what our agent has told us, Ho has nearly as bad a case of the blind shits as does Tonilin. I don't know what you've done to the man but it has him on the edge of madness."

Casey volunteered nothing more and Gomez accepted it.

"This is the case. We will know when Troung comes into town. We've got one of his main agents spotted. When he makes contact we'll know about it. Then it'll be up to you guys to decide what to do. We still have to get Ho if any of us are ever to get any rest again. I'll run whatever interference I can for you with the Colonel but he's paranoid as hell. I don't think he really trusts me anymore because I don't have blue eyes.... Is there anything else you need to help with this thing?"

Casey looked at Van, thought a moment and said, "Yes. Bring me Phang. I think he deserves to be in on this operation all the way through."