Authors: Travis Stone
8
T
he CIA man's driver wore a tweed suit and drove very fast.
'They know you're
tailing them,' the CIA man said.
His partner
backed off the accelerator and the grey Citroen in front of them pulled away,
and then turned left again.
'Follow
cautiously. Don't loose them completely,' The CIA man said; he wanted Benmore's
driver to think he was getting away.
The CIA tracked
Jim Benmore wherever he went; they also kept tabs on all he met with; but by
arriving in
South East Asia
, at
this time, General Benmore retired, had signed his own death warrant.
* * *
The Citron skidded to a stop in a narrow
alley, throwing Danny into the dash.
'Follow me,' the
driver yelled.
Danny got out of
the car and ran after the man. He had to sprint to keep up as the driver ran
down another side alley. They emerged onto the sidewalk of a busy road and the
driver got into a blue Volkswagen Beetle.
'Hurry up.'
Danny got in and
the Volkswagen pulled sharply into the flow of traffic.
'What's all this
about?' Danny said between breaths. 'Who's following us?'
'CIA. DIA. Take
your pick. We didn't think they knew we were here.'
Danny had never
heard of the DIA. He looked back into the myriad of automobiles. 'I think you
lost him. There's no tan sedan behind us.'
'Good.'
Danny looked to
the front. 'What's all this about?'
'Mister Benmore
will tell you what he wants you to know.'
* * *
The CIA man kept his driver well back from
the blue Volkswagen.
Benmore's driver
had now assimilated into the traffic flow, apparently unaware that he was still
behind him.
* * *
The Volkswagen drove down to a small jetty,
along the bank of a large river.
The car stopped.
'Follow me onto the boat,' the driver said.
Danny got out of
the car. A small boat with a covered wheel-house was idling beside the jetty.
As soon as Danny stepped onto the boat, the engine revved up and it began moving
out into the wide channel.
* * *
The CIA man could see the blue VW, and the
boat pulling away from the jetty.
Damn.
He took a long
barreled hunting rifle with a telescopic sight from the backseat, shouldered
the weapon, and looked through the sight. Danny's back and head came into the
circle. His finger went to the trigger.
9
W
hen Triet returned to the hidden basement in Pho Tho, he regretted
what he was about to do. He didn't want to send Amai into danger, but it was
his duty. The mission
would
go ahead. Triet adored Amai, but nothing
would stop him fulfilling his duty to
Vietnam
. Everything would wait until the Americans were driven out -
everything
.
Raised in war,
and knowing nothing else, Triet had spent the last six years honing twenty
beautiful girls into a fluid network of spies. The seven years before that he
had spent in
Moscow
with the
KGB. And before that, as a mere boy, he had proudly been one of General Giap's
French War prodigies.
He paused at the
top of the basement ladder.
If it wasn't for this war,
he thought.
These
dammed Americans.
But something
about Amai disturbed him. Something about her was eating away at him. Something
was
wrong
.
He knew it was
Danny
.
His chest
emptied.
Amai was happy
when she was with the American - too happy. They were never far apart. She
glowed when she was with Danny. Triet wanted her to glow like that with
him
.
His knuckles
went white around the top rung.
She's in love with him,
he thought.
In reality, he
had known for sometime, but denial had blinded him from the truth.
He climbed down
into the bunker. Jealousy bubbled in his gut acid. He couldn't bear to see Amai
with another, let alone an American; ironically, it was he who had forced her
to do it; and he was about to force her to do it again. General Giap had
ordered it.
Triet stepped
off the ladder and was shocked to see Amai's naked breasts. He had seen her
naked before; back in Laos he had secretly watched her shower in the monsoon
rains; but this time he felt no sexual arousal - he was too dark. He saw that
Thi was also naked.
Triet tried to
control his breathing.
Vietnam
needs them.
Amai was the
only one who could pull-off the next assignment. Thi was far too inexperienced
to do it alone.
Triet controlled
his voice: 'Your old assignment is finished. Cease all contact with Danny.'
He watched
Amai's eyes as he spoke. In the briefest of seconds, they betrayed her true
feelings: disappointment and fear. Nevertheless, her faint but telling reaction
only confirmed what he already knew.
The thought of
his
Amai with that capitalist pig angered him. It drove into his mind like a nail.
Without her, the war was all he had - Tet his only reason for living.
* * *
The look in Triet's eyes frightened Amai.
She felt as
though he could read her mind; and she felt as though she could read his. Her
fear felt raw in her stomach, like a fresh wound. She always knew this moment
would come: the moment when Triet realized he would never have her.
She covered her
breasts with her hands.
What will he do?
She thought. His reaction was
impossible to predict.
The opium had
worn off and Amai felt groggy and embarrassed at Triet seeing her with Thi.
Amai was mortified by her own depravity. She didn't even know how it had
happened.
Triet ordered
Thi to leave. When Thi had gone, he said: 'You have a new assignment.'
'Are you crazy?'
'A Pentagon
Major named Randy Johnson,' he went on. 'We know he has a weakness for
beautiful Asian girls. He has vital intelligence - and you will take it from
him.'
Amai feared that
Triet might actually send her back out. It was possible that she could use this
Pentagon Major to report Tet, but going out into the city with Military
Intelligence hunting her, she doubted if she would survive for long enough. She
needed a safer way to get the message to MACV. She would not do it.
Triet continued:
'He will be at the Maison Blanche tonight. You can not go in of course.' Triet
looked up. 'But the Major has a routine. He leaves the Maison Blanche at
eight o'clock
. You and Thi will follow him and
seduce him.' Triet smirked again. 'I'm sure the two of you will satisfy his
fetish.'
'Triet, this is
insane,' she said. 'I won't last an hour-'
Triet's face
straightened. 'You will give him this.' His boney hand dug into a pocket, and
he took out a tiny glass vile, filled with clear liquid. 'The KGB's latest
technology,' he said proudly. 'Once you administer the dose, the Major will
tell you why he is here and what he is doing.'
'Triet-'
'I will give you
a list of questions. You will write down his answers. You will be staying at
Thi's flat in Rue De Varlin. Your cover is a waitress at the Club De Larvae.
General Giap has given this the highest priority - all details are top-secret -
tell no one.'
Amai slipped
into her panties. She could feel Triet's eyes on her skin. She shrugged into
her bra, positioning each breast for comfort. 'No, Triet,' She said. 'It would
be suicide - and besides, I've had enough of acting like your whore.'
'You will do
it,' Triet said.
She stopped and
looked at him. His eyes were so full of violence that it scared her.
'You will do it
or your nine year old niece, Nhu An-'
Amai went stiff.
'I will cut off
her hands.'
Nhu An had only
been small when Amai had joined Triet's unit, but she possessed an infectious
energy and Amai loved her. Amai remembered telling Nhu An stories, and watching
her small, excited face as she imagined herself adventuring through strange
lands. Amai would say to her: Close your eyes and imagine yourself as a bird,
flying above the rain-forest. You are gliding above the treetops. You see a
clearing of green grass beside a stream. The sun is pouring in through the
trees. It is warm and peaceful. You fly down and land in the clearing. You see
an animal. What animal do you see?
The excited
little voice always said:
A baby deer - her favorite animal.
Amai would say:
The fawn comes over to you. You're you again. She wants to play. What game does
she want to play? Nhu An would say: She wants me to chase her.
They often
played these games for hours, but that was six years ago. Since then, so much
had happened; so much had changed.
There was no
doubt in Amai's mind - if she failed to obey Triet's orders, he would go
through with his gruesome threat. Triet would maim Nhu An.
Dramatic imagery
of the likely scene burst into Amai's head: the thugs holding down the innocent
girl; the thud of the blade hitting the chopping block; the parents screaming
as their child's arm fell to the ground; the small fingers curling on the
dismembered hand.
The thought made
Amai sick.
How could he involve an innocent child in this? She's got nothing
to do with it.
'It is only one
night, Amai.' Triet said. 'One night to save your precious niece.'
10
T
he driver went to the boat's stern and lit a smoke. Danny put his
head inside the small wheelhouse, where a man he put closer to seventy than
sixty, stood at the controls; his build smallish, his hair short and white, his
frame ridged, his eyes authoritative.
'I thought I'd
traveled incognito,' the man said.
Danny braced
himself in the doorway; the river was choppy due to heavy boat traffic. 'Your
being in this part of the world upsets the -
CIA
?'
'I'm on their
watch-lists now - all of them.'
Mister Benmore,
I take it. General Wild-'
'No names
please. I know who
you
are.'
'Why am I here?'
Benmore looked
out the window, appearing both thoughtful and sad. 'I've spent a good chunk of
my adult life causing mass human suffering, so big US corporations could make
big money. I'm ashamed. Ashamed at my lack of intelligence - I was a stupid tool
of a clever system.'
'You're
referring to the Military Industrial Complex?'
'Based on
Hitler's, yes. Looking back, I was no better than a Nazi exterminator, securing
poor countries for corporate plunder.' Benmore looked tired; the bags under his
eyes puffing.
'I can
understand that. But-'
'It happened to
me in
Korea
; it's happening
again.' He spoke more to himself.
'Why am I here?'
Danny said. Weyand had promised information; tools;
a story.
'Get the truth
to print,' Benmore said. 'Break the story about Soviet Generals approving US
General's battle-plans.' Benmore handed him a slip of paper with numbers on it.
'Start exposing Westmoreland and his cronies for what they really are.'
Danny held the
small bit of paper. 'What's this?'
'A drop box in
Washington
. A contact in the State
Department you can trust.'
Benmore spoke to
himself again: 'Why all these delaying tactics? Why prolong this war?' He
looked at Danny. 'These people don't do things for nothing.'
'Profit,' Danny
said. 'Simple.'
'Yes, yes, of
course profit; but this is
far
different.
Vietnam
is
total
control of a fabricated war. It looks like an
experiment - like they're setting a template - a system for future wars.'
'War Inc.'
'Yes.' The older
man nodded. 'War Inc.'
Danny suffered a
rush of nerves. If Benmore was right, this conspiracy was bigger and more
dangerous than he wanted. Meddling in such a thing could get him killed. But it
could also change history - it could also earn him a Pulitzer. Benmore could
also be wrong - or crazy, which seemed equally likely.
'Oh, shit,' Benmore
said.
An American
voice amplified by a loudhailer echoed through the wheelhouse: 'Stop your
engine and prepare to be boarded.'
The message was
repeated.
Benmore shutdown
the engine. 'I'm sorry I got you into this, friend.'
A Thai police
launch came along side, the smaller boat rocking in its wake.
'Don't move,'
echoed the loudhailer. 'You're under arrest.'