The Shadow of Arms (65 page)

When they started trying to climb through, a spray of bullets came from automatic weapons on the inside. One of the policemen was hit and went down. Yong Kyu and the captain dashed inside and took cover behind some rice bushels, then returned fire towards the interior. Judging from the shooting noises, a fight was also raging at the house out back. As in the jungle, Yong Kyu kept on firing as he rushed over to the warehouse door. A policeman came up beside him, stuck his gun into the warehouse and fired. Another policeman meanwhile had pulled the ring on a grenade and lobbed it inside the storage area. There was an explosion and from inside, flames and smoke rushed out.

The first to enter the warehouse was a police lieutenant. Yong Kyu rushed right behind him, instinctively firing a burst of rounds at a spot from which he heard something. A mountain of flour sacks piled almost to the ceiling tumbled down, a man's dark figure falling with it. A shaded light hanging from the ceiling was swaying back and forth. Yong Kyu's shadow stretched onto the wall and then shrank again. Quickly he took aim at the form of the fallen man. The air was full of white dust raised by the torn flour sacks. The man stared up at Yong Kyu, who saw that it was the younger brother of Major Pham. An AK47 was lying on the floor near his bent arm. He stretched out his arm to try to grasp the rifle. Yong Kyu fired again. The man's body twitched from the shock of taking close fire, and soon stopped moving. The flour bags beside him gradually turned red.

“Sergeant Ahn, are you all right?” came the captain's voice behind him.

The police lieutenant was down by the door, gasping desperately. Another policeman who had followed Yong Kyu in was lying at the side door and firing into the inner quarters of the house. The captain and Yong Kyu carried the moaning lieutenant outside. After a while the gunfire ceased.

Two visitors arrived at the general's villa in Bai Bang. They came in a khaki sedan for VIP use, dispatched from the American forces. It being early in the morning, the general was still in his bedroom. A staff sergeant with the security detail stopped them to check if they were armed. One of the two men wore a uniform without any rank insignia, and the other was in a white half-sleeve shirt and a pair of black pants. The man in uniform was holding up a black umbrella for the civilian and himself.

“I have to confirm your identities, sir,” said the staff sergeant.

The uniform took out a badge of the security forces from his back pocket and showed it to the staff sergeant. But the latter would not step back.

“The general is commander-in-chief of Quang Nam Province, sir. Whatever your unit affiliation may be, you should observe the proper security protocol, sir.”

“This gentleman is from Independence Palace. Get out of the way.”

As the uniform spoke thus, the civilian intervened in a gentlemanly tone, “Ah, leave him be. I'm from the military council.”

He took out an ID and handed it over to the staff sergeant. Freezing at attention, the staff sergeant still managed to salute with propriety. The civilian put his ID away and asked in a gentle voice, “May I see General Liam now, please?”

“Yes, sir, let me show you the way, sir.”

The staff sergeant walked like a robot to the front hall and pulled the rope. There came a low and heavy sound of a bell, and a butler dressed in a traditional cotton shirt opened the door.

“These gentlemen just came from Saigon,” said the staff sergeant. “They are here to see the general.”

The butler bowed politely and stepped aside. The civilian took a long look at the luxurious interior decor, then walked over to a sofa and sat down. The uniform stood in one corner in a posture of parade rest. The general came down the stairs in his bathrobe. The civilian got up slowly and spoke with a smile on his face.

“It's been a long time since we last met, sir.”

They shook hands.

“And what brings you here?”

At the general's question, the civilian scanned the living room once more. “A very nice place you're living in, sir.”

Noticing that the general's glance was riveted on the uniformed man standing in the corner, the civilian spoke to the uniform.

“Why don't you come over here and have a seat?”

Only then did the uniform salute the general.

“As I understand it, Colonel, your unit is in Hoi An, isn't it?”

“Yes, sir. But I've been assigned to escort the Cabinet member here.”

The butler brought in morning coffee.

“Has some emergency arisen?” asked the general, raising his cup.

“We have a big problem. Recently the National Liberation Front issued a statement, and its content appeared in a few newspapers in Saigon. The statement, issued in the name of Immi Allero, chairman of the People's Autonomy Movement in the highlands of Quang Nam Province, criticizes the recent operations in the districts of Ha Thanh and An Hoa.”

The general began to raise his voice. “That's no more than typical enemy propaganda, isn't it?”

“The problem is, sir, that the commanding officers in the area gave out arbitrary orders to massacre the Katu, one of the highland tribes.”

At those words from the civilian, the general finally got to his feet and started pacing about the room.

“You mean to tell me you've come here with a local problem like that? Does the military council have a shortage of work to do?”

“Sir, no need to get excited, please. The military council had discussed this problem in the presence of His Excellency, the President, as well as the vice-president. We've reached the conclusion that this is something that must be handled quietly within the council. The reason I came here is to take care of that problem, sir. Independence Palace had received several different kinds of grievances concerning the enterprises conducted by the government office of Quang Nam Province. His Excellency the President himself understands you, sir.

“It's been several days since I arrived here. I've investigated the points raised in the complaint letters and also checked the validity of the enemy propaganda concerning the operations in An Hoa. As for the deployment of materials for the phoenix hamlets project and the cinnamon operations . . . they can be settled within the council, but we have determined that the massacre of the Katu tribe must be handled publicly. Of course, you, sir, will not bear responsibility for anything. Your successor will have to deal with all the aftermath.”

The general seemed somewhat relieved, and he lit his pipe and sat down on a chair again.

“What do you mean successor
...
are you telling me I should resign from the provincial governorship?”

“You've been requested to join the Cabinet, sir. Except, just until the situation is quietly settled down, take a six-month trip abroad, please.”

“When am I to leave?”

“Leave for Saigon today, sir. Until the successor arrives, I'll stay at the provincial office and try to take care of things there. And . . .”

He signaled with his eyes to the uniform sitting next to him. “A man named Pham Quyen is your chief adjutant, isn't he, sir? It's inevitable that he be punished.”

As he spoke he took out several documents. “This is an indictment filed by Lieutenant Colonel Quia, a battalion commander who previously was in charge of Second Division operations in Ha Thanh. He sent this to the military council and to Independence Palace. And this other document is a report on the phoenix hamlets project submitted by the late Colonel Cao, the former police superintendent in Da Nang. Based on these documents we'll be able to sort out the persons to be punished. We were hoping that you'd give us a little of your time and cooperate with the colonel, sir.”

The general agreed wholeheartedly. “I understand. Shall we to go to my study together?”

“On this visit, I've become deeply interested in cinnamon, sir,” said the civilian.

“Central Vietnam has been famous for its cinnamon crop from the old days,” said the general quite nonchalantly as he headed up the stairs. “That's something His Excellency, the President himself, is very much aware of.”

When the Governor entered into the office of the chief adjutant a little later than his usual office hours, Major Pham and a private were the only ones on duty in the office. Lieutenant Kiem's desk was vacant. As the two men stood to attention and saluted, the general walked quietly into the governor's office. Of the two men who'd followed him in, the one in civilian dress spoke bluntly to Pham Quyen in a low form of speech. “You, are you Major Pham Quyen?”

“That's right, but . . .”

Abruptly, the uniformed man standing next to the civilian slapped Pham Quyen in the face. “Speak like a soldier.”

Pham Quyen knew very well who the man without any rank insignia was. In spite of himself, Pham Quyen stretched up into an erect posture.

“Take this bastard in at once,” said the civilian.

“Where's Kiem?” asked the uniform as he snapped handcuffs on Major Pham's wrists.

“He's not in yet, sir,” answered the private on duty.

“Arrest everyone involved and search their houses thoroughly,” said the civilian.

As soon as he was pushed out into the corridor, Pham Quyen saw the officers from the security department of Da Nang district standing there. They thrust Pham Quyen into a covered Jeep. He still knew nothing of Pham Minh's death, neither was there any way for him to know that Lieutenant Kiem had set out for Atwat and was long gone.

The forklifts were lifting up boxes and piling them neatly on the crane cradle. When the limited space was filled, the naval crane lifted the loads of cargo up high and then lowered them down into the open hold beneath the ship's deck. One load of cargo that had been lifted up to the level of the vessel's deck suddenly tilted to one side, dropping a few crates onto the ground. There was the deafening sound of a whistle. The stevedores stopped their work. The boxes of coarse plywood had broken apart when they fell, and the contents were strewn all over on the concrete.

Several owners of the boxes rushed forward in a fluster. Without uttering a complaint, they ran here and there after their scattered articles and gathered them up. Left over C-ration tins, saved-up paper sacks of powdered milk, cartons of cigarettes, American military uniforms and jungle boots, and occasional electrical appliances with labels like Sony, Akai, National, Sanyo, Sharp, or Hitachi.

Meanwhile, on the square out in front of the pier, the soldiers about to depart for home were receiving an inspection of their equipment in preparation for the departure ceremony. There were prominent officials from the city administration of Da Nang, military officers. A big contingent of middle school girls wearing white
ahozai
and broad-brimmed hats, waving bouquets of
flowers and the national flags of the two countries was sure to appear on the scene. The military band would strike up the national anthems of both countries as well as of the other allies, and innumerable photos would be snapped from every conceivable angle.

With the boarding and the freight loading yet to be finished, the ship would not be ready to sail until dawn the next morning. Ahn Yong Kyu left the square and walked down toward the open cafe near the customs house. Having ordered a drink, he sat on a chair watching this unfamiliar city with a detached mind.

Out of the sea of camouflage uniforms worn by the departing soldiers, a white dress fluttering in the wind was gradually approaching. The woman was wearing sunglasses, but one still could tell she was a beauty. Yong Kyu almost waved his hand and called out to her, but turned around instead. The woman stepped in between the sidewalk tables and walked about peeking in here and there along the line of sunshade umbrellas. Yong Kyu heard her voice from behind.

“So you've been sitting here?”

“How have you been?”

Hae Jong removed her sunglasses. “You know, I've been looking for you for quite a while.”

“Looking for me?” Yong Kyu replied absentmindedly.

“You're too much. I tried to contact you several times, but you didn't call me back.”

“Your house is . . .”

“I'm at the Thanh Thanh. It's not the same room as before, though. I came out here to send some baggage back home, and as long as I'm here I thought I would ask a favor of you.”

“Baggage? But you don't have a transit allowance, do you?”

“Ah, I got an allowance from the captain,” Hae Jong said lightheartedly. Then she took out a small gift-wrapped box from her handbag and placed it on the table.

“Here's a souvenir.”

“What is it?”

“A watch. A cheap one.”

Yong Kyu took it quietly. Then, in an indifferent tone, he said, “Aren't you going home?”

Hae Jong shook her head. “No, not me. But I am planning to leave here in a few days.”

“Where to?”

“I'll go to Hong Kong. Sister Lin asked me to.”

“You made a lot of money, didn't you?”

“A wee bit, only enough to open a small pub.”

“How's Major Pham?”

She hung her head. Then without looking up, she said, “I was a little shocked. I'm all right now, though. The investigation is still underway, but since they're all in the same boat, I suppose there'll be a demotion and transfer, something along those lines.”

Hae Jong dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief and then held up her hand again.

“His younger brother . . . was a very gentle young man . . .”

Yong Kyu looked back in the direction of the pier, where the military band had struck up another tune. The flags in the hands of the schoolgirls were fluttering in the breeze. Hae Jong spoke.

“The favor I have to ask is this. You see, I've already shipped the baggage. This is the consignment number and that is the bill of lading. When you land in Pusan, I'd like you to have a forwarding company deliver the things to this address. Here's the money. That's all.”