JASON STEED Absolutely Nothing (16 page)

He bent down and started to search Jason. It would only be a matter of moments when they discovered the gun he had on him.

Jason caught the soldier’s collar with his left hand and pulled the soldier towards him. At the same time Jason unleashed a blow with his right fist. He hit his target, the man's windpipe. It happened too quickly for the others to react. He leapt forward grabbed a grenade and pulled out the pin and held it shut. They all froze, afraid to move. Just their eyes followed him. The officer in charge tried to calm Jason down. He smiled. The others kept their guns aimed at the boy. They knew if they shot him he would drop the grenade with the pin out and they would all die.

Jason has never used a grenade before. He wondered how long it took to go off once he let it go and released the trigger mechanism.
What if it goes off instantly
? He tried to act calm, but deep down he was more terrified of the grenade than they were.

He gestured for them to lower the weapons. Slowly they lowered them. He beckoned them to step onto the canoe. One by one they clambered aboard the small-motorized canoe. The officer tried to stay, but Jason picked up a second grenade and gestured again. It was enough to move him off the launch. When they were all on his canoe he untied it and pushed it off, this was the most frightening part. He knew as soon as they far enough away not to get hurt by the grenade they would open fire.

After looking over the boat's control panel, Jason threw it towards the forward arrow. The launch slowly started moving. He placed the other lever at full power. The engine roared, and the propeller churned the brown murky water behind the boat. Jason threw one grenade into the canoe and the second grenade into the water behind him. He ducked down and covered his head with his arms.

Chaos erupted in the canoe as the soldiers tripped over each other trying to pick up the grenade, the second grenade exploded in the water, throwing up water all over the men. Eventually they found the grenade that Jason tossed into the canoe. It still had the pin in it and was harmless, but it did as he intended and caused enough distraction to get clear. The water soaked men screamed abuse at Jason. Two of them opened fire.

A few bullets hit the motor launch, but the Vietnamese soldiers all standing on the canoe caused it to wobble. They were unable to get a good shot. Jason stayed down and waited for the pounding of bullets to subside. They continued and increased coming from another direction. He poked his head up to take a look. They were no longer shooting at him from behind. He crouched down and was relieved his grenade hurt no one. He crawled to the front of the launch so he could peek a view over the front. To his horror, he was heading directly for another Vietnamese launch.

The main machine gunner was pounding Jason’s launch with bullets. Two other soldiers also fired their automatic weapons at him. He had just moments before they collided. He placed the last grenade next to two five-gallon Jerrycans full of gas. The other launch was getting perilously close to Jason’s. He could hear them shouting. They assumed he was shot. He pulled the pin of the grenade and, at the last second, steered it into the path of the other launch. Seconds before it collided, he jumped up and dived deep into the water.

It felt warm and sluggish, covered with a layer of rotten vegetation. It was like jumping into the dirty bath water of whole football team. The water was scummy and dark green and smelt awful. As Jason broke the water's surface, he could feel the green slime and algae running down his cheek and over his lips.

He took a breath and swam deep a powerful breaststroke that took him deeper. Something whizzed past near him, and he realized that he was still being shot at. The farther down he went, the safer he would be. As he pushed himself down, he wondered what creatures might be in the water. Crocodiles? Piranha fish? Pythons? He could barely see two or three inches into the water's murky depths. His thoughts were quickly dispelled when the two motor launches collided with a crash. A few seconds later a huge explosion erupted. It was deafening to him under the water. With his body crying out for oxygen, Jason pushed himself up towards the surface. He expelled his air and desperately kicked upwards. He gasped at the air once he broke the surface.

Heat from the burning wreckages stung his face; his heart sank as he noticed some bodies floating lifeless on the water. Some men were alive and helping the wounded. He turned, put his head down, and swam for the opposite shore. The swim was exhausting. His clothing weighed him down, and he had lost his hat. He finally got to shallow water and started to stride out towards the shore and among the reeds.

A third launch rounded the corner. Standing on the front with folded arms was General Chow. The launch immediately opened fire with machine guns. The water around Jason came alive as bullets pounded the surface. It was only a matter of time before he was hit. He dove back under the water after taking a deep breath. The water above was still pounded with bullets as he swam back out to deeper water. He poked his head up for a second to get a breath and noticed the man with a patch over his eye. General Chow looked right at him and pointed.

Jason thought he looked like a pirate as the bullets hit the surface again. Jason dove down to the riverbed and scuttled along the bottom. The boat drew closer, slicing through the water.

Jason pulled a large reed out of the riverbed, cut the end off with his knife, and blew down it. Before he could congratulate himself on his brilliant idea, another burst of gunfire spat across the water in his direction. He dove back down into the water and used it as a snorkel to breathe.

General Chow’s launch got closer as it searched in vain for the boy. It came almost on top of him. Chow raised his hand and the shooting ceased. He looked around the area with his hands stuck on his hips, looking presidential.

He continued to search for the boy; he wanted to see his dead body. He remained on the front of the boat shooting at anything that made a ripple in the water. A frog, a fish, he didn’t care. Someone had to pay for killing and injuring his men.

After an hour they gave up. They assumed he had been shot or drowned. General Chow cursed and spat. For good measure, he threw some grenades into the water. They waited, but a few dead fish and a turtle floated to the surface; no boy. Jason had travelled further downstream and was out of harm's way.

Jason waited until he heard the motor launch's engine disappear before his head broke the surface of the water to take a look. He was safe for now, although he had used up much of his energy. He was relieved to eventually get back on shore. He still had his map, his gun, and compass but had lost his backpack.

He tore the sleeve off his shirt and tied it around his head like a bandana. He hoped it would cover his blond hair and make him look less like a westerner. At least it had stopped raining, he thought as he looked up. The sun was riding high across a blue sky decorated with puffy clouds. All the scents of Vietnam drifted in—the smell of the trees and rotting vegetation in the jungle, the sharp tang of the river.

He sat and rested
in deep thought, reflecting on the day. The dead bodies caused by his actions lay heavily on his mind. When he had last talked with his mentor Wong Tong he asked how he could forget the death he caused because it was still happening every time he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Wong Tong had told him, “There are two kinds of people Jason. Those who save lives, and those who take lives. You, young Jason, fall into a different category, one who save lives by taking lives.”

It gave Jason some comfort.

Chapter Nineteen

The nine remaining prisoners were marched out of the cell. They were forced to kneel in a line. A Vietnamese guard prodded them with his rifle. He hit the American journalist harder because the scene was being filmed. The film would later be shown on TV news stations around the world. Many commentators asked why the US, British, and French governments has not intervened.

Ray Steed stared straight ahead. He was unsure if Jason would be watching. He wanted to ensure that the last time his son watched him he would not be showing any fear. A few others sobbed. Some simply held their heads down. As far as Ray was concerned, Jason was safely tucked away at the American military academy.

*

The BBC showed the news in the UK the following day. Scott Turner watched with his parents. He fought back his tears as he watched his best friend's father appear unafraid and defiant in the face of death. He had heard from George that Jason was missing and hoped that his friend would soon make contact.

News stations showed the news across the United States. Members of Congress met with the president. All agreed nothing could be done. All US personnel were ordered to leave the area. Even the Red Cross pulled out of Vietnam in fear of the volunteers being captured and facing the same fate.

The prisoners were marched back to the cell. All of them looked defeated. They chatted, trying to lift each other’s spirits. They spoke of family, what countries they had visited, and wondered when the Americans would rescue them.

French Captain Marcel Deschamps argued that the Americans would not be coming. He told them that if France's great Foreign Legion couldn’t defeat the Vietnamese then no one would be able too. It was no wonder the Americans left with their tails between their legs. The British prisoners, including Ray, doubted that Great Britain would send in the SAS. It was getting more likely that they would either be released after negotiations or they would remain prisoners or be executed.

Captain Marcel and many of the other prisoners respected Raymond Steed. They admired how he kept calm, never complained, and always tried to look on the positive side to keep everyone from falling into complete despair. Marcel was a large, proud Frenchman. Io look at him it was hard to guess his age. He kept his hair completely shaven, and his moustache was grey. It made him look a lot older than his thirty-one years.

“So tell me, Lieutenant Steed. Do you have a pretty wife and family waiting for you in England?” Marcel asked.

Ray smiled and looked up at Marcel. “No. My wife passed away giving birth to our son. He is twelve now.” Ray’s eyes welled up as he thought of his son being made an orphan.

Marcel picked up on it, for once Ray was as human as the rest of them. “Who looks after your son when you are away with the Royal Navy?”

“We have a housekeeper, and Jason sort of takes care of himself now. He‘s actually in a military academy in America. He’s a cadet and, from what I heard before this, he was doing just great.”

“In the US you say? What academy does he go to?” Carl Bradley, the American journalist, asked.

“It’s called Quentin Roosevelt Military Academy. Somewhere in Dakota.” Ray smiled.

“Wow, QRMA. That’s in South Dakota. It’s the country's top academy. Only the very best go there. You have to be top of another academy in your year just to be able to apply. A few presidents went there and probably some future presidents as well. How did he get in? No offence but he’s a Brit and you don’t have any military academies.”

Ray grinned and felt proud of his son. “He’s not your average twelve-year-old boy. He was in Jakarta as a Sea Cadet eighteen months ago when the massacre happened. He was one of the lucky ones. He ended up on Jakarta—” Ray stopped short. To explain all of Jason’s adventures sounded so farfetched it would be hard to believe. “He was chosen because of that and a few other things.”

“Oh I get it. To show you British how we do things,”
Carl Bradley said. “Good for the Quentin Roosevelt Military Academy to allow a Brit in. Still, he must find it hard. The competition among the other cadets is such a high standard. How does he keep up?”

“I think Jason can keep up with the others just fine.” Ray rested his head back against the brick wall and closed his eyes. He could picture Jason throwing his school backpack across the highly polished floor and kicking his shoes off and leaving them wherever they landed. Ray himself was given a strict up bringing; the huge house they lived in was always quiet, spotlessly clean, and rather boring.

Ray tried to be strict but now Jason was living at the house. Lights were left on in every room he went into, the TV was left on, and if he was in his room, you could hear his music from down stairs. The housekeeper cleaned his room, but Jason would leave his clothing spread across the floor and dirty food dishes everywhere. The fridge had to be stocked with his favourite food, carrot cake. Ray thought to himself he would swap his right arm if he could watch Jason throw his school backpack and kick his shoes off across the floor again.