the Last Run (1987) (45 page)

Thong felt happiness inside at seeing his general relax. The Tall One had been very busy and could not sleep at night. Because of this, his health was fading and he could not keep his mind on all that he had to do. Some of the staff spoke badly of his short temper and sullenness.

Thong smiled. The general needed only to be near a stream's tranquility and away from the radio.

The general rose up and waded to a flat rock under the coolness of the protective bamboo . He lay down and shut his eyes to absorb the quiet.

Thong shifted his gaze from his sleeping leader to the boulders on the far bank. They were covered with thick, strangling, rope- like vines. A tree grew from the top of one of the boulders, its tendril roots snaking down the body of the rock and into the earth for nourishment.

Thong looked back at his general, who was resting comfortably. His chest was rising and falling in much needed sleep.

Thong lay back on the bank. The war would not care if his general rested. The war didn't care about anything.

Colonel Ellis glanced at the enlarged maps that had just arrived by chopper from Corps. He made a mental note to send a memo of thanks to the photolab. They had done a good job in the short time they had been given.

Ellis handed the maps to Childs and motioned to the captain sitting in the corner of the TOC to follow him. The captain had also come in on the chopper and held a briefcase that was handcuffed to his wrist.

Ellis had requested information on General Binh Ty Due, but had not expected this level of response. The captain was from the 525th Military Intelligence Group out of Tan Son Nhut, the Army's intelligence clearing house, and he was a member of the "Community."

Ellis shook his head at the thought of the involvement by the Community and wondered what "great" secret about the general could be important enough to justify sending an armed courier.

The Community consisted of the CIA, the Defense Intelligence Agency, the Army Security Agency, and every other gathering group or agency that dealt in intelligence. All worked sitting on their asses and all had failed. None had predicted the disastrous Tet offensive of 1968 or had pinpointed any major Communist political or military headquarters since then. With all their agents, analysts, spy planes, and tons of electronic equipment they couldn't provide the commanders in the field what they needed most: hard, updated intelligence.

They were all victims of their own secrecy. The compartmen- talization of information, and its dissemination on a "need to know" basis, made for a complicated system that assured sluggish response, kept coordination to a minimum, and made outside interpretation unthinkable. The result was always too litde, too late. The Community had lost its credibility with the field commanders long ago.

Ellis walked into his room with the captain and locked the door. He sat down to listen to the ritual he'd heard too many times before only to be disappointed and frustrated. The captain began his monotone of instructions, explaining the contents of the message the colonel was about to become privilege to. He was not to discuss, write, or in any way communicate to a second party, the secret contents of the message without an explicit okay from the issuing authority.

Ellis rolled his eyes as the captain quoted regulations and codes that would be used to ensure his incarceration if secrecy was violated, then described the procedure for destroying the document, once read.

Finally, the captain unlocked the briefcase and had Ellis sign three forms acknowledging that he understood the rules, then pulled out a plastic-covered envelope marked "Top Secret Eyes Only "

Ellis opened the envelope and began reading. The first page was a synopsis of the general's life; place of birth, civilian schooling; military schooling and assignments, family, party status, close friends, and enemies. The second page was different. Ellis sat down. He now understood why the captain had been sent. He reread the page with a pounding heart:

Hanoi's latitude for political and military initiative in support of the war is limited by Peiping and Moscow differences over the general question of strategy and tactics. North Vietnam has to rely largely on aid from Peiping and Moscow, not only for material support for the war effort but also for its own economic survival. As a result of the worsening relationship between the two Communist powers, practical necessity requires Hanoi to remain neutral to the dispute. The divergent viewpoints of Peiping and Moscow, the former advocating uncompromising, total victory versus the latter's demand for a more moderate and conciliatory approach, is a major concern to the premier, Pham Van Dong. (Secret)

Despite appearances in the recent announcement of a new Communist government formed in the South (Provisional Revolutionary Government of the Republic of South Vietnam), the real military and political leader of the South is General Binh Ty Due. (Top Secret)

Bottom Line

General Binh Ty Due is the only true moderate leader in the South not associated with either Chinese or Soviet factions, and is the de facto leader appointed by Premier Pham Van Dong. (Top Secret)

Termination of General Due would cause temporary paralysis of military and political decision-making processes within the South. All future major Communist military actions would be delayed for unspecified time based on realignment of leadership and/or appointments. (Top Secret)

General Binh Ty Due's termination is authorized categor 1-Alpha-1. (Top Secret Eyes Only)

Copy furnished Corps commander

End Report

Ellis took a deep breath and set the paper down. Category 1-Alpha-1 was the code that meant heavy friendly casualties were acceptable in accomplishing the mission.

"Sir, are you finished?" asked the captain, obviously wanting to be done with his duty and to be gone.

The colonel nodded in silence. The captain pulled a lighter and flat metal tray from the briefcase. Ellis held the report over the tray as the captain lit the corner of the document.

Ellis watched the report burn, grateful that B-52s would do the killing and that good men didn't have to be sent to die for a purpose they and their leaders would never know about or understand.

Chapter 24

It was quiet as only the early morning could be. The jungle still slept as the sky changed from black to dark gray and a white mist oozed from the river into a lingering cloud. Lieutenant Gibson stood on the riverbank and shut his eyes. The mission was about to begin. He absorbed the tranquil silence for a moment, then turned and motioned for Russian and Toan to cross.

The two men immediately stepped into the river. Gibson watched them disappear into the white vapor and then he went to his knees in the sand. He would wait five minutes, time enough for the two men to secure the crossing site. Behind Gibson, the rest of the patrol waited.

Russian stepped onto the far bank and halted. The silence was total except for the slight gurgling of the river and the water dripping from his fatigue trousers. Toan stood behind him, burdened with a rattan basket-pack filled with fruit for the spirit house. The old man listened a few seconds, then continued up the bank. His experienced ears told him they were in no danger.

Minutes later, dark shapes began to emerge from the mist. The patrol was coming: first Lieutenant Gibson, then Wade and the others. Gibson motioned for Russian and Toan to lead on. Walking single file, the patrol snaked down the riverbank. They had traveled only several hundred meters before they came to the junction of the Stadium valley stream and the river. Without pausing, Toan turned toward the mountains and began following the gradually ascending stream. Within fifty paces they reached the base of the mountains and entered the narrow ravine whose rock walls rose straight up to a height of over three hundred meters.

Russian, feeling as if he'd entered another world, cautiously followed the old Montagnard. The dark canyon became progressively steeper and led to a succession of beautiful, stepped, stream-pools and miniature waterfalls. The looming rock walls were rough with ridges and outcrops that supported a profusion of tropical plants. Splashes of thick, brightly colored mosses clung to the walls in irregular patterns like patchwork. The sky was turning light gray streaked with pale blue, but inside the ravine the eerie mist still lingered.

The farther into the ravine the patrol went, the more difficult the climbing became. It was like walking up a never-ending flight of stairs as they hopped and scrambled up boulder after boulder, and soon their legs and backs cried out in tormented agony. Even their necks and shoulders grew sore and stiff from constandy looking up at the cliffs for the glint of a rifle barrel or a sign that the enemy was watching.

The sound of their steps and heavy, labored breathing was gradually drowned out by the sound of crashing water. Toan climbed up a large boulder and stopped. Before him was the rainbow-colored cloud that always made his heart sing.

Russian crawled up beside him and stared in awe. A waterfall fell in a white, turbulent froth from some forty meters above to crash onto flat, worn boulders. The thick, showery mist made a rainbow with colors so vibrant that they seemed painted.

The rest of the patrol climbed up the boulder and stood in the drenching spray. It was a once-in-a-lifetime sight.

Lieutenant Gibson broke the spell. "Russian, ask Toan where we go from here." He had to half yell to be heard over the crashing water.

Russian leaned over the old man and spoke into his ear. Toan turned wordlessly and pointed toward the falls only thirty feet away. Russian looked at the rock wall looming ahead and shook his head as if confused. He spoke again into the Montagnard's ear. Toan again pointed toward the falls and spoke a few words before walking toward the splashing water.

Shrugging his shoulders, Russian looked at Lieutenant Gibson. "He say we go into the darkness."

Gibson began to ask what darkness, but Russian had already begun to follow the old man.

Minutes later, Gibson understood. Past the curtain of drenching water was a small cavern. The patrol stood just inside the entrance, staring into a dark void.

Rose shook his head. "I ain't goin'."

Preacher patted the small soldier's back. "We have flashlights. You'll be okay."

Rose stood frozen. "Men, I ain't goin'. I had enough of dark places."

Preacher pulled a flashlight from his pack and handed it to Rose. "You'll do fine. Thumper will be in front of you, and I'll be behind you."

Rose sighed and turned on the light. "You stay on my ass and tell me where to go. I'm shutting my eyes, and I ain't openin' them till we out."

Toan talked to Russian for several moments and Russian translated to Gibson. "He say have men lay down close to entrance and cover their heads. He go into cave and scare out flying demons."

Gibson rolled his eyes up at the absurdity and began to step deeper into the cave. Russian blocked his path. "He speak of bats."

Gibson's mouth fell open, and he quickly turned around. "Everybody move close to the entrance and lay down. Stay as low as possible and cover your heads. The old man is going to scare out some bats."

"Bats?" whined Rose. "I hate bats. I hate caves, too, man."

Thumper and Preacher moved back, pulling Rose with them, and lay down beside Woodpecker and Wade. Sergeant Zubeck and his men moved to the side of the cave and sprawled out.

Russian turned on his flashlight as Toan picked up a rock and stepped into the darkness. Russian, walking behind the old man, was trying to light the way when they came to a narrow, deep crevice in the rock floor. Toan hopped over the obstacle and was about to turn to give a warning when Russian jumped and cleared the crevice easily but slipped on the icelike surface on the other side. The big Czech lost his balance and slid into Toan with a jolting crash. Both men struggled to keep their balance and stayed on their feet by holding on to one another. Russian finally got his feet firmly beneath him and panned the light on the slimy floor.

The cave angled sharply on the other side of the crevice, and a stream of water flowed down the incline into the deep crack in the floor. The water was slimy gray and stank of ammonia.

Toan walked several paces up the incline and pointed up. Russian slowly trained his light to the ceiling fifteen feet above and immediately froze. The light shone on a teeming sea of life. There was no visible rock, only hundreds and hundreds of brown- black bodies pressed so closely together that they breathed as one. Their wings were folded over their sleeping forms like cocoons. The sight above him explained the smell and the slick floor. Bat excrement was being washed down the floor by the water in a natural cleaning process.

Russian pressed himself against the rock wall and motioned Toan to his side. The old man heaved the rock upward and the two men covered their heads.

The stone struck with a dull thud, then fell back and splashed into the stinking stream. At first there was a faint fluttering. Then the sound grew into a roar as the bats, in a frenzy, flew to escape.

Rose's screams went unheard as hundreds of two-pound flying rodents rushed past in a black, turbulent cloud of furry flesh, slapping with their wings the exposed portions of the men's backs. Woodpecker held the flaps of his boonie hat tight against his face, but still almost lost his hat to the beating. Preacher, praying aloud, held on to Rose with a death grip.

Wade curled his body into a ball and gasped for air. The multitude of panicking animals was taking all the oxygen. In twenty seconds it was over. Wade lifted his ringing head and opened his eyes. The diffuse light in the cave entrance was thick with dust, as if a rug had been beaten there. The other men began to rise up slowly.