the Last Run (1987) (32 page)

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Authors: Leonard B Scott

BOOK: the Last Run (1987)
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The heavily muscled soldier opened his eyes. "He's still trying to call that singer in Saigon."

"Man, he's been gone all morning. The dude is wastin' rays. Look at my tan. I'm ready for to-night\"

Russian, the only one of them fully-clothed, shot Rose a warning glare.

"The sergeant say nothing of going to the city tonight."

Rose shoved his sand mound over. "Man, they gave us a three- day I and I. That means intoxication and intercoursin', and the Rose is in for some intercoursin'!"

"The sergeant say nothing of. . ."

Sergeant Zubeck, holding a football, ran up to the lounging men. "Come on Three-one, I got this from the recreation guys. How about a litde game?"

Thumper sat up and winked at Rose. "I don't know, Zee. Your team is kinda outta our league. Your guys being wimps and all, it wouldn't be fair."

Zubeck threw the ball at Thumper. "Come on stud, you just pissed off the mighty Two-one. We gonna beat you by two TDs or it's a case of Bud.''

Thumper tossed the ball to Woodpecker and looked at the others. "Well, we going to play or not?"

Woodpecker stood up, flexing his small arm muscles. "I always did like Budweiser."

Preacher shook his head. "I don't drink beer."

Russian got to his feet and patted the small soldier's back. "I know nothing of your football, but we beat them anyway, yes?"

Preacher smiled and jumped to his feet. "What are we waiting for?"

Virginia put down the phone and wiped away her tears. He called ... he finally called, and wanted to see her.

At first he'd hemmed and hawed with small talk, but then he'd asked if she could come to China Beach R and R Center in Da Nang to be with him. She couldn't say "yes" fast enough.

Virginia sat down on her bed, trying to remember his every word. His team and another had been given an in-country R and R for doing a good job-three days at Da Nang. They'd just arrived that morning and checked into the recreation camp. He'd been trying to call for three hours . . . three hours, my God . . . Now what was it she had said? She'd have to sing tonight but then she could claim she was sick and needed to rest for a few days. She would catch a flight tomorrow morning and be there by noon. That would give them one-and-a-half days and one entire night.

She started to pack.

Wade walked over the sand dune feeling light. Ginny was coming. He wanted to hold her so bad he didn't think he could stand waiting another day.

Someone hollering broke his trance and he looked up the beach.

Sergeant Zubeck tackled Woodpecker just as he received a snap from Russian. Team 2-1's men hooted and jumped up and down, patting their sergeant's back.

Woodpecker threw the ball down and stalked back, mumbling to the huddle.

Thumper knelt down and pointed to Russian. "Once you snap the ball you have to block Sergeant Zee. He's killin' us."

Russian shrugged his shoulders. "He does not stay in one place for me to stand in front of him."

Rose cried out, "You don't stand in front of him! You knock his fuckin' head off!"

Russian smiled cruelly. "Now I understand."

Thumper whispered his play and broke the huddle with "Three- one!"

Russian lined up over the ball and eyed Zubeck before bending over. Thumper and Preacher lined up on the right side, with Rose on the left. Woodpecker barked out, "Down! . . . Set! . . . Hut one! Hut two! Hut two! Russian, give me the damn ball!"

The bullish soldier tossed the ball between his legs and charged out. Zubeck easily sidestepped him and began to run for the fading quarterback when suddenly a huge hairy arm stuck out, clothes-lining him in the neck and almost taking off his head.

Woodpecker faked a pump to Rose and threw the ball to Thumper, who was cutting across the middle. Two tacklers closed on Thumper for the easy stop when Thumper lateraled behind him to Preacher, who cut in the afterburner and streaked toward the goal. A thin soldier chased hopelessly after him, but the Indian was a blur.

Zubeck staggered to his feet and shook his head in defeat. The score was final: his team, one touchdown, and Wade's team, two.

Rose put his arm around Preacher's shoulder. "Man, does the U. S. of A. Olympic team take Indians?"

Zubeck and his men gathered around Thumper. "You get the beer but we get a can apiece 'cause you cheated."

"Cheated?"

"Yeah, Russian is a foreigner. Foreigners ain't supposed to play like that, plus that Indian has got a jet in his ass!"

Thumper laughed. "Okay, you get a few hot beers."

Zubeck turned to his men. "You hear that? He said 'hot.' What'd you say we cool off this big ape?"

Thumper began running halfheartedly and was soon caught and dragged toward the South China Sea.

Rose tapped Preacher and ran for the struggling man. "They gonna pay for that!''

Wade quickly took off his shirt and boots as the team members roughhoused each other over in the waves, and he ran down the sand dune screaming, "Reinforcements coming for Three-one!"

Lieutenant Gibson rose to his knees and snapped his fingers at the men to his left, then to those on his right, and signaled them to pick up the Claymores they'd set up along their ambush trail. They'd been waiting all day. The sun was beginning to sink and it was time to pull back and laager for the night. It was dangerous to stay in an ambush at night. The procedure was to pull back a couple hundred meters and sleep during the darkness, then return at dawn to set up again. Gibson stood and walked to the left flank of the ambush to get in an overwatch position. Watkins would do the same on the right flank. They would keep an eye on the trail while the other team members moved forward and picked up their Claymore mines and rewrapped the firing wire.

Gibson leaned up against a tree and glanced down at his CAR-15. He looked back up and saw a hadess Vietnamese soldier casually walking down the trail toward him. His AK-47 assault rifle was slung over his shoulder, and he acted as though he was out for an evening stroll.

Gibson brought the CAR-15 up and fired in a single motion. The bullet tore a gaping hole through his neck and he crumbled to the ground as if he had fallen asleep. The careless soldier never saw his killer.

Sergeant Selando had just picked up his Claymore when the single shot rang out. He spun around, fell to die ground, then noticed the lieutenant, standing ten feet away, looking at his weapon and shaking his head. Selando cursed, got to his feet, and stomped over to the officer.

"Your accidental shot just compromised the whole mission! God damn it, keep your weapon on safe!'' the Seigeant whispered angrily.

Gibson kept his eyes on the trail and spoke evenly. "I'll secure the trail. You check the body."

Selando spun around in disbelief.4 4What body? What bod..." He saw the soldier sprawled twenty feet away. 4'Son of a bitch! You wasted one!"

Ten minutes later, Gibson gathered his team around him in a streambed.

We're not going in with just one kill. We'll move into a laager tonight and move to another trail tomorrow."

The team exchanged worried glances as Watkins shook his head. "Hell, we got a kill. Let's get out of here."

Sergeant Selando poked the Kentuckian. "The L-tee is right. We haven't blown our Claymores, and he only fired one shot. Nobody will know where it came from. The dink was just a trail runner. We'll get some more tomorrow."

Watkins sighed. "Yeah, I guess it would look silly going in with just one round fired. Childs would hassle us for a month."

Gibson smiled and nodded toward Selando. "Find us a laager.

Childs put down the radio handset just as Major Shane and First Sergeant Demand walked into the bunker. Shane had been at Fourth Division headquarters all day, coordinating another operational area.

"What's up, Jerry?"

Childs pointed to the wall map and stood. "Sir, I got bad news and good news. The bad news is we lost two men wounded from Team Two-three. They tripped a booby trap and the point and slack man were splattered pretty bad in the legs by a grenade. They're both at the An Khe evac hospital. The good news is we've got three teams that got kills. Team Two-two killed four VC, Team Three-four greased two NVA regulars, and Gibson's team killed one VC."

"Gibson?" asked Shane, surprised.

"Yes, sir. Remember I told you the other day he was taking out the team?"

Shane eyed the sergeant. They both knew Childs had never mentioned it, but Childs must have had his reasons for letting the officer go.

"Have all the teams been debriefed yet?" the major asked.

"All but Gibson's team, sir. He's still out. It seems they only fired one shot, and he wants to try again."

"Tell me again why I let Gibson go out on a team," Shane said.

Childs rolled his eyes at Shane. "Shit, sir, the L-tee was hounding me to death. I figured we owed him the chance."

First Sergeant Demand smiled. "I knew that L-tee was a real Ranger the second I shook hands with him."

Shane shook his head worriedly. "Leave 'em out one more day and that's it. We've worked the area enough. The dinks will be on to us pretty soon."

Shane noticed the sergeant's distressed look and threw his arm over the shorter man's shoulder. "I woulda let him go too, Jerry. You made the right decision. Come on, let's go visit the hospital and see our guys."

Childs began to walk up the steps but Russian's dog jumped up on his legs, looking for a pat. "Git down, Bitch, damn it."

Shane noted that the sergeant's voice wasn't as gruff as it could have been and winked at Demand. "Jerry, looks like you got a friend."

"Naw, she just likes the beer I give her. Git down, damn it."

Childs finally bent over and ruffled Bitch's neck fur and scratched her head. "I'll be back, ya dumb mutt. Wadey, come here and hold her till I'm gone."

The young Spec-4 radio operator rose from his chair. "She'll just whine. You know how she is, Sarge."

Shane knew the small dog always stayed close to Childs when Russian was gone even though the sergeant hardly acknowledged her. "Come on, we'll take her with us."

The three men walked up the steps, with the yellow dog following happily.

The captivated audience of officers stared in fascination at the provocative performer in the clinging black jumpsuit whose husky voice had stolen their hearts. Virginia tossed her mike from hand to hand and danced sensually to the lively beat, then raised the mike to begin singing again.

Seated in the crowd of officers were two Red Cross women and their dates. One of the women was staring at the singer's jumpsuit so intently that she didn't hear the finance captain speak to her. He tapped the woman's arm to get her attention. "Mary Ann, what do you want to drink?"

The raven-haired woman broke her trance only for a moment. "Beer."

The captain turned to the waitress. "Two rum and Cokes, one vodka Collins, and a beer."

Sally Ramsey leaned over next to her friend and whispered, "What's wrong?"

Mary Ann shut her eyes for a moment, then turned back in her seat. "Nothing."

Sally knew better. Mary Ann was usually a dynamo of energy and always the life of the party. Sally had noted the change that afternoon after the mail came. Her tall friend seemed to be withdrawn and her constant smile had disappeared. She had hardly spoken a word while they waited in the compound for the captains to pick them up.

The singer finished her song to thunderous applause and nodded to the band to begin her second number. The musicians began playing the introduction to "Bridge Over Troubled Water" as she spoke softly. "I hope you gendemen won't mind if I change the words of Simon and Garfunkel's hit tune a little bit. This is a special dedication to a very special person."

She began to pick up the rhythm with her body and raised the mike to her lips.

The finance captain laughed loudly at something or other. Mary Ann didn't know what, but she faked a smile and leaned back.

"Sail on Ranger boy, your time has come ..."

Mary Ann spun around, hearing the singer's refrain. She now knew why the woman wore the unusual patch over her left breast. Mary Ann had noticed the patch immediately. The red border around the black scroll insignia with the white letters proclaiming "Airborne Ranger" was all too familiar to her. It was the patch of Sierra Company Rangers-Thumper's unit. The singer's words, "Ranger boy," confirmed the woman knew somebody in the company.

"Like a bridge over troubled waters, I will lay me . . ."

Mary Ann had received a letter from Thumper that afternoon. At first she'd been thrilled but then became angry. She'd waited for so long to hear from him and when he didn't write it had hurt her badly. Out of the blue, after so many passing months, his long-awaited letter came too late. She hadn't even opened it.

Mary Ann stood up and held out her hand. "Bill, let me borrow the keys to your jeep. I've got to go back to the compound for a few minutes.''

"I'll take you."

"No, you stay here and enjoy the show. I'll only be a few minutes. I left some medicine that I should have taken."

The captain dug in his pocket. "I thought maybe something was wrong with you. Do you want me to drop you off so you can rest?"

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