Read The Cover of War Online

Authors: Travis Stone

The Cover of War (9 page)

16

W
hen Major Johnson finally left the Maison Blanche he appeared drunk.

Amai stood and
watched him weave down the sidewalk. Despite being sloshed, he moved quickly.

Amai acted fast;
she swallowed her guilt and thoughts of Danny with the last mouthful of vodka,
and then led Thi across the street. They merged with the foot traffic and fell
in behind the Major.

Amai's mind
focused as the mission took over.

Where's he
going?
She thought.
Does he expect to be followed?
Is he dangerous? Will he be attracted to us? Will he guess what we are?

Her heart was
pounding.

The Major's
shaved head bobbed like a buoy in the crowd's pitch and trough. His height made
him easy to follow, so she let him get well in front.

Groups of
squatting Vietnamese, cooking and talking on the roadside, added obstruction to
the congestion. The big Major stumbled into a circle of people sitting on small
chairs outside a massage parlor, and Thi giggled. The Major apologized, swaying
as a hunched mama-san waggled a bent finger at him.

Thi said: 'How
big do you think his - you know - dick is?'

Amai shook her
head. She hoped to never find out.

'I think it'll
be enormous,' Thi went on. 'Like a donkey.' She giggled.

Amai made her
face stern. 'Stay focused. Have you noticed a tail?'

'I haven't
looked.'

'C'mon Thi, it's
your job.' Amai glanced up and down the street as if looking for pursuers. 'Start
thinking.'

The Major backed
away from the mama-san, and then continued along the path.

'I'll follow the
Major,' Amai said. 'Let me get well ahead, then follow me.'

Thi looked
scared. 'I think we should stay together.'

Amai scowled.
'Keep me just in sight - and keep an eye-out.'

'Okay.'

The Major took
long, expansive strides. Amai followed. After several blocks he appeared to
sober up. His swaying stopped. Then he turned right into Dong Du.

Dong Du was
alive with activity. Brightly colored paper dragons writhed to the rhythm of
music and clapping. The Major entered the crowd. A bright red serpent blocked
him from her view. She rushed forward. When she saw him again, he was forty
yards up the road, squeezing into a cyclo buggy.

Amai looked
back; there was no sign of Thi.

Amai turned back
to the Major. The cyclo rider's sinewy thighs were straining under the Major's
weight. He stood tall on the peddles, arching his back to start the wheels
turning, while the Major's long arms hung over the sides of the cart, like a
baby too big for his pram.

The cyclo gained
speed and Amai realized that if she waited, she would loose him. Thi would have
to fend for herself.

Amai flagged
down a cyclo traveling toward her. She probably could've kept pace with the
Major's for a while, but over any great distance, she would stand no chance.
The cyclo stopped, she ordered the rider to turn around, and then looked back
for Thi, seeing only paper dragons and a faceless mass.

At the end of
Dong Du, the Major's cyclo turned left and disappeared from her view.

Amai felt
instant dread.
I'll loose him
.

She jumped into
the cyclo and yelled the directions to the rider. The cyclo quickly reached
jogging speed. Then a fashionable purse hit her in the face, and a pretty girl
jumped in beside her. It was Thi.

Thi grinned. 'Going
somewhere without me?'

'The Major's in
a cyclo. I think we've lost him. What took you so long?'

'We
were
being followed.' Thi took a handful of her glossy hair, smoothed it, and
clipped it back into place. 'When we stopped back there a man behind us
stopped. He didn't move when you did, but when I moved, he followed.'

'Nash?'

'No.'

'White?'

'Yes.'

Now Amai
was
worried; she had been playing the following game since arriving in
Saigon
. She wondered who it could be.

Their cyclo
reached full speed and made the left turn without slowing. Amai could not see
the Major. Her shoulders tightened. She looked back. A stubbled Caucasian face
watched them from the sidewalk. It wasn't Nash; he had a harder, foreign look.

'We've lost the
Major,' Thi said. 'It's my fault.'

Amai pinched the
bridge of her nose.

'Well. Does it
really matter?' Thi sounded pleading.

'YES IT DOES.'
Amai couldn't stop the venom in her voice.

Thi fiddled
inside her purse.

Then Amai saw
the Major's cyclo, well ahead of them. She pulled some banknotes from her
concealed purse and handed them to the rider. 'Faster. Catch that cyclo.'

The rider stood
on the pedals and Amai could smell his musky perspiration.  

The Major's
cyclo made a series of turns and they lost him.

The rider
slowed.

'I'm so sorry,'
Thi said. 'Will you tell Triet?'

Then Amai saw
the Major's cyclo coming toward them; the cart empty. 'Look. He can't be far.'

The cost of
failure struck Amai, filling her mind with gruesome images.

We have to
find him.

Her cyclo slowed
for pedestrians and Amai looked back. She figured that their tail had been
shaken and resolved to continue the mission - Nhu An depended on it.

The street was
packed with bars. Two Americans were having a fist fight outside one, while a
drunken mob cheered them on. Another was full of nurses dressed in mini-skirts.

Amai saw a green
door, all but hidden in shadow, and she had the sudden thought that the Major
had gone in there. Her minds eye showed her wooden stairs going down into a
cramped bar room; Major Johnson buying a big glass of beer; the place packed to
standing room only.
Cam
would've called it intuition.

Amai ordered the
cyclo to stop. She paid the driver in US dollars, and then approached two young
men on the sidewalk. Amai described the Major; the men shrugged. Amai saw an
old man in a chair, sitting back, watching the strange new
Saigon
. She went to him, and once again,
described Major Johnson. The old man pointed to the green door and Amai felt a
chill.

'Come on,' Thi
said, grabbing her hand and dragging her across the street, through the door,
and down into the overcrowded bar room.

The bar's layout
matched the picture of Amai's intuitive thought, and she immediately saw Major
Johnson's giant figure, leaning on the bar, deep in conversation with a
black-man half his size.

Thi did a silly
dance, then put her arms around Amai's neck, and said: 'I'm going to get laid
tonight.'

Then with dread,
Amai realized her mistake.

17

T
he man in ill fitting tweed approached the CIA man.

'What did you
learn?' The CIA man said.

'Nothing. We'd
have to grill him, but I don't think he knows anything.'

'We got to him
in time. Okay. The driver's dead. Kill Benmore - make it - let's say a heart
attack following an auto smash.'

The man in tweed
nodded.

'Take Danny back
stateside. If he causes trouble - kill him.'

'We're direct to
DC at
six am
. He'll never
return to
Vietnam
again.'

'Good.'

18

A
mai felt vulnerable.

From her
intuitive vision, she had failed to notice one important detail: the bar was
packed only with black-men. No women. No white people.

Several sets of
eyes were already boring in on her, and she realized that remaining
inconspicuous was no longer possible. More bodies crushed into the room behind
her, blocking the exit.

She grabbed
Thi's hand, and whispered: 'We're not welcome here.'

'What?'

Amai shook her
head.

The room fell
silent and the staring eyes turned from her, to a large black-and-white
television set.

Amai tried to
slow her breathing.

The screen
flickered, went fuzzy, and then a gray face filled the square. Amai thought
that one day she would love to just sit in front of a television and watch the
exciting pictures, but right now she had to get near the Major. With no idea
how much time the television's distraction would buy them, she led Thi into the
crowd.

The gray man on
screen had a mustache, and a fluent, powerful voice.

Amai threaded
through the bodies. She could feel Thi's breasts pressed against her back, and
her slippery hand in hers. Amai could no longer see the television, but she
could hear it:
“A nation that continues year after year to spend more money
on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual
death.”

Triet had said
that when the American public stopped supporting the war, they would give up
and go home.

Amai wished they
would give up and go home.

The bar room was
stifling. Heat pressed down from the ceiling, filling every inch of space. A
heavy body came between her and Thi. Amai lost her grip on Thi's hand. Then she
felt big hands grab her around the waist. She looked up into a man's big face;
his lips pink and rubbery; his nostrils huge. His fingers gripped her spine and
his thumbs pushed into her belly.

He said: 'We
don't let anyone but brothers in here on Thursday nights.'

Amai couldn’t
get free. 'Let go.'

'But I think we
can make an exception for two beautiful ladies such as yourselves.' He unlocked
one of his hands and took hers. 'I'm Captain Tusk.'

Amai had never
seen such long fingers.

He smiled,
showing white teeth. Amai couldn't tell whether he was hostile or horny.

Thi slipped her
body between them, and said: 'Why thank you Captain.' Her English, not as
proficient as Amai's, was thick with Asian inflection. 'We saw all these
hot
black-men and just had to take a
closer
look.'

Amai thought:
Well
done.
She looked around for Major Johnson, but couldn't see him.

Then Amai saw
the Major's head, only ten feet away. She needed to get free of Captain Tusk.

Why is he not
letting go?

She squirmed,
but Tusk held on.

Someone yelled:
'Fucking Communist.'

Amai froze and
then realized that the comment was directed at the television. Within seconds a
fist-fight broke out around them. Tusk let go and Amai pulled Thi through a
gap.

Major Johnson
was moving to the back of the room to avoid the fight. Amai followed him.

Behind her she
heard the fight swell to an all-in-brawl. She looked back to see Captain Tusk
punch another man in the face before being tackled to the floor. Amai looked at
Thi. 'We need to get to Johnson and get him out of here fast - any ideas?'

Thi smiled
wickedly. 'I thought you'd never ask.'

Amai narrowed
her eyes.
Don't blow it,
she thought.
This mission's more important
that you know.

Thi pulled Amai
to a spot where Major Johnson could see them, and started dancing seductively
around her body. Amai wore a sleek black dress with a high split. She felt
Thi's hand slide up the smooth skin of her thigh.

This better
work,
Amai thought.

Amai didn't
quite know how to react to Thi's movements, so she just stood there. She could
feel Thi's firm body against hers, and when their eyes met, she knew Thi wasn't
acting.

Johnson looked
and Amai felt incredibly sluty.

Is he buying
it?
She thought. 

Behind them the
brawl died down to a few men grappling on the floor. Amai looked back at
Johnson. He was staring at her open mouthed, completely ignoring the fight.
Amai knew that now was the time to hook him, but this kind of act did not come
naturally to her; she had to rely on Thi's flamboyance.

Slowly, Amai
began responding to Thi's erotic moves, gyrating her hips, and moving her hands
over Thi's back. Her father's face popped into her head; she thrust it away,
turned toward her mark, and gave her best seductive look.

The Major's face
betrayed his thoughts.

Thi put a finger
into Amai's mouth, and she took a long, hard suck.  

The Major was
engrossed.

Then, with a jet
of panic, Amai realized that the fight had stopped, and the entire crowd was
staring at them. Fifty pairs of eyes violated her simultaneously. The eyes
projected animal lust. She felt trapped

Someone in the
crowd yelled: 'Bitches on heat.'

Amai feared mass
rape. It was a danger that she hadn't even considered.

Before she knew
what was happening, Major Johnson was shoving her toward a door, shielding her
with his giant body.

Amai found
herself outside in a rear lane. She caught her breath. 'Thank you Major.' She
meant it.

'No, thank you,
Miss
?'

'Xuan,' Amai
lied. 'Amai Xuan.' She used her real first name in case Thi accidentally used
it.

'Thank you Miss
Amai Xuan,' he said in a smooth, deep voice. He looked into her eyes. 'You've
got everyone back there all fired-up.'

Amai felt her
checks flush.

Thi came between
them and put her hand to his crotch. 'What about you Major,' Thi said, adding
sauce to her voice. 'Are you,
fired-up
?'

He loosened his
collar. 'I am now.'

Thi continued to
lay it on thick: 'We've been looking for a man like you for a long time. You
would be surprised how
hard
they are to find.'   

She's good,
Amai thought.

With the edge of
his hand, Johnson pushed rivulets of sweat back over his smooth head. 'So do
you two come together?'

'We do
everything
together,' Thi said. 'Including coming.'

His eyes
widened.

Amai noticed
that a bulge had formed in the left side of his pants, and that Thi's hand was
massaging the lump.

Amai caught
Thi's eye, and tried to transfer her thoughts through expression. They needed
to quickly isolate the mark before any drunk or inquisitive soldiers came
looking for him.

'Take us to your
place,' Amai said.

'Fraid I can't. Yours?'

Amai didn't want
to use their flat, but she would if she had to. 'Ours is being painted,' she said
putting her hand onto his steel hard backside, while Thi worked the front.

He raised an
eyebrow.

Amai realized
her mistake and felt the corners of her mouth pull back. She said: 'Take us to
your place.'

'Like I said
girls, we can't. I stay on the Embassy grounds.'

Amai didn't want
to loose him now. 'Let's go to ours then - before Thi comes in her panties.'

Thi licked her
lips. 'I just have.'

* * *

Triet had told Amai that Johnson liked
fellatio, and Thi was giving it with enthusiasm, panting and slurping and
making throaty noises as she did.

The Major
moaned, and said: 'Fuck yeah.'

Amai could hear
her own heart pounding. No evidence of the flat's renovation work existed, and
she desperately hoped the Major wouldn't pick up on her lie. She looked down at
him, and thought:
Unlikely.

Amai pushed
several fingers into her moneybag and felt the vial of serum among the crisp
bills.

Now was the time
to drug him.

She tried to
think of a method, but her eye kept returning to the lewd action on the floor.
The soles of the Major's feet were surprisingly white, and knotted gray veins
covered his brown penis. The gizzard, from balls to shaft, made it look like
Thi was trying to bite the head off a giant tortoise.

Thi pulled
herself away from her task and unbuttoned his shirt. Amai saw a metallic flash.
The Major wore a shoulder holstered pistol. The upside-down words,
Smith
& Wesson,
clearly visible on the handgrip.

Amai was under
no illusion - if the Major suspected foul play, he would shoot them.

'You're so big,'
Thi said. 'Just like I imagined.'

Johnson smiled
like a big cat.

Thi kept
sucking.

Amai went to the
kitchenette and started opening cupboards. Under the sink she found a sleeve of
plastic cups. She took out two, and half-filled each from the whiskey bottle
that Thi had bought earlier. Her hand was trembling. She checked that the Major
couldn't see what she was doing, and then put the drug into one of the cups.
Her heart fluttered in her throat. She slipped out of her dress, leaving her
high-heels and stockings on. She unclipped her bra and rubbed her nipples hard,
then taking a cup in each hand, remembering that the spiked one was in her
right, she went to the Major. She dug one heel into his firm, hairy stomach,
downed half of her whiskey, and pushed the spiked cup into his hand. He took
the plastic cup, hesitated, and then knocked it back.

That was easy
, she thought.

She wondered how
long the drug would take to work.

Thi kept
slurping. The louder she slurped, the louder the Major moaned. Amai found
herself engrossed in the action. She thought of Danny; she was desperate to
finish this assignment without betraying him, but sadly, she realized that that
might not be possible. If the truth serum took time to work, she would be
expected to join in with Thi.

The only thing
the Major wore now was the shoulder holstered pistol, the sight of which
stressed the importance of maintaining the deception.

Thi was enjoying
herself. She looked to be bringing the Major to the brink of orgasm and
stopping, waiting for the moment to pass, and then sucking again. The Major
loved every second.

Amai couldn't
help feeling aroused. She felt disgusted with her self, but the two really were
enjoying each other.

Thi reached for
her and Amai tensed.

She felt Thi's
hand on her bare breasts. Thi came away from the Major and sucked hard on
Amai's nipple. It hurt and Amai screwed up her face. This was Thi's fantasy,
and Amai understood that she would have to play along until the serum kicked
in.

Amai kissed
Thi's throat and the Major moaned.

The Major had
suffered no obvious effect from the drug, and Amai began to wonder if it would
work at all.

C'mon, kick
in,
she thought.

Thi dropped and
kissed the Major's open mouth; his big hands moving eagerly over her small,
supple body. Then he reached for Amai.

For a fraction
of a second she pulled back - she didn't want this big black-man to kiss her -
she wanted Danny. She corrected her error and let the Major pull her toward
him. The pistol's cold steel pressed into her nipple. He didn't seem to notice
her mistake.

Triet had given
Amai a list of questions to ask the Major. She was to write down the answers
word-for-word. The first questions were meant to test the drug's effect. But
judging by the way he was kissing and groping her, she knew there was little
point in starting.

The drug should
have worked by now. He should be sedate, compliant, and unable to lie. But he
wasn't.

The serum had
failed. Now she would have to comply with his every desire, or risk blowing
their cover, and either being shot, or arrested. She saw herself floating face
down in the
Mekong
.

The Major's
powerful arms lifted her effortlessly into the air and onto her back. She felt
Thi's small hand slide up one thigh, and his big hand go up the other.
    

Amai went
ridged.
I can't do it.

Thi whispered in
her ear: 'Think of yesterday - I'm going to make you come.'

Amai felt the
Major's large penis against her stomach. And then he was trying to enter her.
Amai dug her fingernails into the floorboards. She thought:
No.
And
said: 'Yes.'

Thi gurgled with
pleasure as she guided him inside.

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