Ride the Tiger (10 page)

Dany's breath lodged in her throat as Gib lifted his hand from her shoulder. His fingers grazed her cheek, and she felt them tremble. The tingling sensation stole her breath, and she raised her lashes to meet and hold his burning hazel gaze, narrowed and intent. And yet, as she drowned in the brilliant green, gold and brown of his eyes, Dany felt like the most cherished possession on Earth. Gib was going to kiss her.

She saw it in his eyes, felt his hand gently cup her cheek and lift her chin scant inches upward to meet his descending mouth. A ribbon of hunger burst through her, surprising and powerful. Never had she felt as desired as she did this heated, suspended moment. A sigh of surrender escaped her parted lips as she stretched upward, her palms coming to rest lightly against his chest. Her movement was the most elemental and natural reaction in the world to her. Suddenly the war ceased to exist. The danger that always swirled around her disappeared, and for this one exquisite moment she stepped outside of time and reality. Dany tasted a hunger for Gib that she'd never experienced with any man.

Dany felt the powerful beat of his heart beneath her palms. The tension in him, as if he were fighting for control as he leaned down to capture her lips, enveloped her. She whispered his name, a prayer answered, a dream come to life, and she closed her eyes, a heartbeat from tasting the glorious pressure of his mouth against hers.

A tremendous explosion from the back of the plantation jerked Dany away from Gib.

Gib gripped her arm as the after-shudder of the explosion reverberated through the house.

“Oh, my God!” Dany cried, “Another mine!” She wrenched from Gib's grip and ran toward the back door.

D
any's eyes widened in shock as she tore down the steps of the plantation house. There, on the edge of the lawn near the flower garden, was a cavernous hole in the ground, created by a land mine. To the side of the freshly churned red earth, nine of her workers were crying and screaming as they crowded around a small body in the crater.

“Vinh!” Dany cried as she stumbled forward. A scream careened within Dany's head as she raced forward. Gib passed her easily, and the workers parted to make way for him.

Vinh was crying out, rolling around in the bottom of the depression. Gib leaped into the crater and knelt next to the boy. Nausea struck Dany hard as she followed Gib. Vinh's right arm was missing, torn off in the explosion.

Gib caught hold of Vinh, who was out of his mind with pain and in deep shock. He turned to Dany, his face hard.

“I need a tourniquet. Fast!”

Dany nodded jerkily and ripped at the bottom of her
ao dai,
the silk giving way with a sickening sound. Her hands shaking badly, Dany handed the strip of silk to Gib.

“Hold him down,” Gib ordered, his voice rough with emotion.

Dany watched with huge eyes as Gib expertly wrapped and tightened the silk around Vinh's upper arm, the bleeding slowing to a trickle almost immediately.

“Call Dr. Perot!” Dany cried to the peasants. Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision as she worked her way around to Vinh's other side, opposite where Gib knelt. Dany felt the steadying grip of Gib's hand on her shoulder. Suddenly, her world stabilized as she glanced over at him.

“No,” Gib rasped. “Don't call a local doctor. I'll get Vinh medevaced to the base. The two-way radio's in the car. You stay with the boy and I'll go get it. All right?” Dany was deathly pale, and Gib was afraid she was going to faint. Vinh moaned and Gib transferred the boy from his embrace to Dany's arms.

“Y-yes, make the call. Hurry! Please, hurry!”

With a nod, Gib jumped to his feet. Now he was in combat mode. He felt absolutely nothing, adrenaline pouring through his bloodstream, his senses hyperalert, his mind functioning like a nerveless computer. He made his way through the many Vietnamese workers and ran around the side of the house to the driveway where the yellow Citroën sat. Jerking open the door, he stretched across the seat and reached for the opening on the glove box. His hands trembling, Gib drew out the radio.

After making the call, he ran back around the house. The faces of the Vietnamese farmers mirrored his own inner feelings. His heart pounding in his chest, Gib took in Dany's pale, distraught features as he drew near. She was cradling Vinh in her arms, the peasants weeping openly around them as they crowded close to the crater in pandemonium. Putting the radio aside, Gib leaned over.

“Let me take him,” he told her. “We've got to get him out from under the trees, Dany. The medevac's on its way. They'll need a clearing to land in.”

Dany looked up, her eyes frought with anguish. “This is my fault!” she sobbed,
“My fault!”

“No way, honey. Now, come on, let me have the boy. You've done all you can for him.” Gib moved her gently to one side then picked up the now-unconscious Vinh.

Dany staggered to her feet, numb with guilt. She stumbled along after Gib as he carried Vinh to the clearing on the northern side of the house. It was her fault Vinh had stepped on that mine. This was Binh Duc's work! As she placed her hand across her mouth, trying to control her sobbing, Dany knew she had to meet the VC leader face-to-face. Was Duc declaring war on them? Oh, why had she allowed Gib to come back even once? Duc had known. Duc had been told!

Her mind spun with tragedy over Vinh's lost arm, and what his parents and Ma Ling would do once they found out about his injury. How would Dany ever break the news to them? There would be such grieving. Dany watched in a daze as Gib gently lowered Vinh to the lawn. In the distance, she could hear the
whap, whap, whap
of helicopter blades cutting thickly through the afternoon's high humidity as it sped closer.

Dany knelt near Vinh, the boy growing semiconscious again. He didn't cry out, and his eyes were glazed over. He was going into deep shock from loss of blood, Dany realized. Gripping Vinh's thinly clad shoulder, she leaned over, telling him to hang on, that help was on its way. She knew that with Gib's intervention, Vinh had a real chance of being saved. As she looked up, she was startled by the look on Gib's sweaty, strained features. His eyes were marred with pain, his mouth a slash against what he was feeling. He was no less affected and touched by Vinh's tragic wound than she was.

Kneeling there, Dany realized in some small part of her functioning mind, that Gib had told her the truth: He didn't enjoy killing. It was a necessary part of his world, but not something he wanted to do. Even now, as he crouched down on one knee, his hand resting on Vinh's other shoulder to steady and reassure the boy, Dany knew he was suffering.

Serrating guilt jagged through Dany in those minutes before the green helicopter landed, a big red cross against a field of white painted on its broad nose. She'd allowed Gib back on Villard soil, and Duc had somehow found out. Forcing back her tears, Dany tried to muster a reassuring smile for Vinh's sake. Now an innocent young boy had paid for her foolish travesty, her selfishness. If Vinh lived, he would be crippled for life. He'd never become the wonderful artist they all had dreamed he would. Oh, God, how was she going to live with herself?

As the medevac landed, the air around it turned to buffeting turbulence. Everyone bowed their heads, holding onto their bamboo hats and bracing themselves as the wind kicked up by the helicopter blades became invisible fists, pummeling them without relief. Gib gently picked up Vinh and pressed him protectively against his chest. He crouched and bent his head, moving toward the helicopter. As the crewman hopped out to help load the boy onto a waiting stretcher in the cabin, Gib hesitated.

When he'd transferred Vinh, Gib hurried from the helicopter to where Dany stood, her arms wrapped tightly against her body. Her face looked ravaged as he gripped her arms, worried that she might buckle beneath the strain of the crisis.

“I've got to go,” he shouted above the roar of the machine. When she nodded that she understood, he added, “I'll call you as soon as I know anything about Vinh. I'll be in touch, Dany, I promise.” The urge to embrace her and kiss the anguished line of her mouth nearly unstrung Gib. But instead he squeezed her hand and quickly moved back beneath the copter's whirling blades. They were finishing securing the boy to the stretcher. Time, Gib knew, was of the essence with a wound like this. He jogged and climbed aboard. Within seconds, the engines shrieked at a higher pitch, blades whirling faster and faster as the aircraft broke contact with the earth. The sliding door was slammed shut and locked.

There was little Gib could do except stay out of the way as the corpsman worked furiously over the boy. Vinh was given an IV to help stabilize him, then covered with several blankets. As they roared skyward, the group below grew smaller and smaller. Gib's attention centered suddenly on Dany. What did she mean this incident was
her
fault. What had she been babbling about?

Worriedly, Gib crouched against the rear bulkhead of the helicopter as it made a banking turn toward Da Nang. It would be a swift ride to the nearest MASH unit inside the perimeter of the huge base. The boy would get the best medical care available. Gib ached inwardly, poignantly recalling the drawing Vinh had made for him. It was still rolled up in the yellow Citroën back at Dany's plantation. Gib couldn't rationalize what had happened to Vinh. He was an innocent child who'd been caught in the crossfire of a lousy war that had no well-defined territorial lines. And he'd lost his right hand and arm, the ones he drew his beautiful pictures with. Maybe it was just as well the youth had lost consciousness again, Gib thought grimly. Who was going to tell the boy he'd lost his arm?

Sadness moved through Gib as he sat on the nylon seat, the helicopter shaking and shuddering around him with the engine's deafening sound. Vinh had loved helicopters, but what a hell of a way to get a ride in one, Gib thought bitterly.

His mind whirled with questions and no answers. Had his presence at Dany's plantation caused this? If so, who the hell was responsible for it? Binh Duc? Grief flowed through Gib as he sat stoically in the vibrating aircraft. Dany thought she could keep her people and land safe despite the tensions swirling like a gathering storm around her. When was she going to see the reality of the situation? There was no such thing as neutrality in Vietnam, no matter how badly she wanted it. It hurt Gib to know how much Dany must agonize over this latest incident. Seven days ago, she'd lost her mother. Now Vinh, whom she loved fiercely, was badly injured.

The medevac landed on a huge black asphalt square painted with a white circle. The MASH unit tents that comprised the emergency ward came alive with activity as soon as the crewman shoved open the door. Gib remained out of the way until the team of orderlies, nurse and doctor could take Vinh out of the aircraft and place him on a gurney and wheel him toward the medical unit.

Gib patted each of the pilots on the back in way of thanks for their mercy run. He shook the hand of the navy corpsman on board and nodded the same. Climbing out of the helicopter, crouching low as the rotor wash buffeted him, Gib moved quickly off the asphalt and back onto the reddish-colored sand.

Da Nang was a huge, sprawling base that sat on an island. The river that ran between the island and the land mass of Vietnam was spanned by one bridge, heavily guarded by both marines and U.S. Navy Seals. The MASH unit was on the northern edge of the base, and Gib went to the MASH administration tent to call Colonel Parsons and let him know what was going on. Helicopter squadron commanders couldn't just disappear, but if possible, Gib wanted to remain near Vinh for as long as it took, so the boy wouldn't come out of surgery without someone he knew being there for him.

Gib entered the tent. The navy corpsmen on duty looked up from their respective desks and stared at him. It was then that he looked down at his shirt and realized it was smeared with Vinh's blood. Gib went to the nearest phone. When he'd squared things with Parsons for the moment, he dialed Dany's number. The phone rang and rang before it was finally picked up.

“H-hello?”

“Dany? It's Gib. Listen, Vinh is in good hands here at the base. He just went into surgery and I'm going to hang around until he comes out.”

“Then he's still alive?”

Gib's heart wrenched in his chest at Dany's voice, raw with unshed tears. “Yes, honey, he's alive. The corpsman stablized him on the way in. He's going to make it, I'm sure.”

“Ohh...thank God....”

“Does Ma Ling know yet? Or Vinh's parents?”

“Vinh's parents have been told. I'm waiting for Ma Ling. She should be home any moment now. When can we see Vinh? Or hear about his condition?”

“I just talked to the head nurse, and she said that since Vinh is a civilian, she'll see that his parents and relatives get permission to come on board and see him as soon as he's out of danger. That will be at least two or three days. I wish it could be sooner, but you're dealing with the military and we're in a wartime situation.”

“I understand. Then you'll be there for Vinh?”

Gib closed his eyes. “Yeah, I'll be here. Maybe you could drive that Citroën back to Marble Mountain in the next week sometime, and I can get it back to my friend?”

“Of course.”

“Good. I'll call you just as soon as Vinh's out of surgery and anesthesia. It might be a while,” he warned.

“Thank you, Gib. I—I don't know what I'd have done if you weren't here when it happened. You didn't have to call the medevac for help, I know that.”

Gib smiled wearily and leaned against the gray metal desk. “I'd do anything in the world for you. Buck up, Vinh is going to make it. How are
you
doing?” Gib wished with all his heart that he could be there to hold Dany. This was a second huge shock for her. Her emotions had to be in tatters.

“I'm fine...fine. Gib, I have to go. Vinh's mother is distraught. She needs support right now.”