See You in Saigon

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Authors: Claude Bouchard

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See You
in Saigon

 

 

 

A novel by

Claude Bouchard

 

 

 

SEE YOU IN SAIGON

 

 

All rights
reserved

Copyright © 2014
by Claude Bouchard

 

This ebook is
licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away
to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person,
please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you
for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

This is a work of
fiction.  Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, events or locales are purely coincidental.

 

 

Published by
Claude Bouchard

 

 

Dedication

 

In November 2012,
my good friend, author Luke Romyn, suggested Joanne and I travel to Vietnam in
May 2013, to vacation with him, his wife, Sarah and her sister, Millie. We
agreed and, six months later, we spent two marvelous weeks experiencing Hanoi,
Halong Bay, Sa Pa, Ho Chi Minh City (aka Saigon) and the Mekong Delta.

 

But here’s the
kicker… All Joanne and I had to do was book our flights to and from Vietnam.
Everything else – hotels, shuttles, trains, boats, treks, tours – everything
was planned, organized, reserved and handled by the charming Sarah Dougherty.
The result was perfection and a trip we will never forget.

 

And so to you,
dear Sarah, I dedicate this book, for without your magnificent efforts, I would
have never written it.

Chapter
1 – Monday, October 7, 2013

 

Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon),
Vietnam, early afternoon

 

Amidst glances and
stares of awe and admiration, fifty-four year old Cao Van Minh parked his Honda
CB1000RA on the sidewalk in front of the Sasa Café on De Tham Street. He gazed
at the gaping onlookers as he cut the engine, his grin invisible to them behind
the black visor of his full-face helmet. Rarely did anyone in Vietnam
see such a motorcycle for the simple reason that, in most cases, bikes with
engines exceeding 175cc were illegal. However, Minh had no concern about his
ride having almost six times the maximum engine displacement permitted. After
all, the sums he paid the police every year were to ensure they looked the
other way when it came to him and his affairs.

As he climbed off
his motorcycle, the Pham brothers, his bodyguards, pulled onto the sidewalk on
either side of him, both on legal, 160cc motorbikes. Removing his helmet, Minh
peered into the dingy, open-front restaurant with disdain.

 “Are you sure
this is the place?” he asked, accustomed to finer dining establishments.

“Yes, Mr. Minh,” Hung
replied. “He said he would meet us here on the second floor.”

Minh looked up and
noticed a casually dressed Caucasian male, perhaps in his mid-forties, seated
at a table by the balcony railing. The man appeared to be gazing down at him
but, due to the sunglasses he wore, it was hard to say for sure.

“Is that him?”
Minh asked with a curt head gesture toward the man.

“Yes,” Hung
confirmed, nodding once to the man above. “That is Scorpion.”

“Tuan,” Minh
addressed the other brother. “Go have a look upstairs.”

“Yes, Mr. Minh,”
Tuan replied then hurried into the restaurant to the stairs at the back.

“So, you have no
idea why this Scorpion wishes to meet me?” Minh asked, not for the first time.

“I only know what
we’ve told you,” said Hung. “He wishes to discuss something which will be of
mutual benefit to both you and him.”

Over the last two
years, rumours of growing involvement in the Southeast Asian illicit drug trade
by a foreigner named Scorpion had begun to surface. However, Minh’s enquiries
with contacts both locally and in other countries had failed to even confirm
this Scorpion’s existence… until the previous Friday.

While out for a
night on the town, Tuan and Hung had been approached by the man now seated upstairs
who had informed them he wished to meet with their boss. He had left them a
note with the café’s name and address, a date and time as well as the name of
one of Minh’s longest standing colleagues in Thailand as a reference. When Minh
had spoken to his contact, all the man would confirm was that Scorpion was real
and that it was in Minh’s best interest to meet with him.

“There is no one
else upstairs,” Tuan announced as he rejoined them on the sidewalk. “He is
alone and has assured me the restaurant staff will not let any other customers
upstairs until we leave.”

Minh nodded. “Very
well. Let’s go meet this Scorpion and see what he has to propose which could
make my already lucrative business even more profitable.”

He entered the
restaurant with the brothers in tow and made his way to the second floor dining
room, a long, narrow, dim space with a couple of ceiling fans lazily shifting
the muggy air. As he approached Scorpion, he was annoyed to note the man
continued to gaze out on the street from where he sat at the end of the table
rather than turn his attention to the arriving guests.

“Perhaps I should
have selected our meeting location and found something with a bit more class,”
Minh said as he took in the plain decor, his intent being to jab at Scorpion
for his lack of respect.

Scorpion turned
his head and raised his sunglass-shaded eyes to the Vietnamese mobster. “The
food is great and the beer is cheap. Have a seat, gentlemen.”

Minh nodded his
permission to the Pham brothers then pulled out the chair at the opposite end
of the table and sat down.

“Do you guys want
to eat something?” asked Scorpion. “Or a drink, maybe? A cold beer goes down
rather nicely in this heat.”

Minh responded
with an abrupt shake of the head before saying, “My time is valuable. What did
you wish to discuss with me?”

“Right to the
point, eh?” said Scorpion. “You’re my kind of guy, Minh. Have you ever heard of
the Devil’s Delight?”

Minh’s eyes
narrowed as he answered. “Yes, they initially started as a motorcycle club,
much like the Hell’s Angels, but expanded and refined themselves to become a
large, well organized crime organization operating across the United States and Canada.”

“I’m happy to see
you know your stuff,” said Scorpion. “I would have been disappointed if a man
of your reputation was unaware of such basic information. What you probably
don’t know, because efforts have been made to keep it quiet, is the Devil’s
Delight has expanded its interests well outside North America over the years.”

Unimpressed, Minh
shrugged as he responded. “It comes as no surprise that a crime syndicate of
that size has dealings with groups in other countries.”

“You misunderstood
what I said,” Scorpion replied. “I’m telling you the Devil’s Delight runs and
controls operations in Mexico, Colombia, Afghanistan and Pakistan. Over the
last two years we have also moved into Thailand, Laos and Myanmar.”

Minh laughed as he
shook his head. “If this is true,
Mister Scorpion
, why am I not aware?
My organization oversees all shipments which come through Vietnam from these countries. I work with these people and have known them for years. Why
would none of them ever mention the appearance or involvement of the Devil’s
Delight?”

“That’s simple,
Minh,” said Scorpion. “I told them not to talk about it and they understand the
importance of discretion and following orders.”

“I seriously doubt
what you are saying is true,” Minh scoffed, “But let’s assume it is for the
sake of expediency. What is it you want from me?”

“It’s time your
organization joined ours,” Scorpion replied. “We see room for significant
expansion and improvement and we have capital to inject as required to make
things happen quickly. If you wish, you may continue to run operations, under
our guidance, and you will be well paid for your efforts. We’re only interested
in the narcotics side of your business. You can hang onto whatever else you’ve
got going.”

“How generous of
you,” Minh said with a smile though his expression was nothing close to
friendly. “I am already well paid and quite content with my operations as they
are. If you believe there are opportunities for you in Vietnam,
I invite you to exploit them, so long as they do not interfere with my affairs.
No part of my business is for sale.”

“Unfortunately,
the decision has already been made,” said Scorpion. “If you don’t wish to work
with us, you will have to retire.”

“I can kill you
right now if I must,” Minh snarled as he slid his hand into the denim jacket he
wore.

“Don’t move
another inch,” Scorpion warned. “There’s a high-powered rifle aimed at you as
we speak. Look down at your chest.”

Scorpion raised
his hand and tugged twice on his left earlobe. Immediately, a red laser dot
appeared on Minh’s chest. As he stared at it, the dot traveled upward,
vanishing from his line of sight as it settled on his forehead.

“All I have to do
is tap my nose twice,” said Scorpion, “And your head will disappear. Please put
your hands on the table, gentlemen.”

He waited while
the three men slowly complied then continued. “Good, because I’d like to wrap
up this meeting. As you stated before, Minh, your time is valuable… and so is
mine. Now, here’s what I propose. Take some time to think about all of this
before making any rash decisions. We’ll meet here again in twenty-four hours
and you can let me know if you wish to work with us or retire from the drug
trade. What do you say?”

“Very well,” Minh
agreed after a moment though the fire in his eyes belied his words.

“Excellent,” said
Scorpion as he stood. “Now, I’ll ask you gentlemen to remain at the table for
ten minutes once I’ve left. Trust me when I say it will be better for
everyone’s health. After that, if you’ve changed your mind and want something
to eat or drink, I’ve got it covered. Have a nice day and I’ll see you here at
the same time tomorrow.”

The three men
waited in silence as Scorpion walked to the stairs and disappeared. A moment
later, Minh spotted him exiting onto the sidewalk and heading north toward Pham
Ngu Lao Street.

“I want this man
dead by tomorrow,” he said once Scorpion was out of sight.

“Yes, Mr. Minh,”
Tuan replied. “We will arrange to have someone waiting in the area for him when
he arrives.”

Minh thought for a
moment then smiled as he replied, “Yes, have someone in the area to take care
of him. But first, we will have our meeting and I will agree to his proposal.
He will die once he leaves, while he is savouring his supposed victory.”

They sat for a few
more minutes after which Minh stood and said, “We have waited here long
enough.”

No shots rang out
as they left the table nor once they were back down on the sidewalk. They
quickly mounted their motorcycles and soon melded into the ever-busy traffic,
heading east on Pham Ngu Lao Street. The volume of scooters and motorbikes
increased as they merged onto Trian Hung Dao and approached Ben Thanh Market.
As they jostled for position into the large roundabout, with Hung riding
immediately ahead of him and Tuan to his left, Minh felt a sudden brief,
stinging pain in his left side. He swerved a bit but managed to maintain
control of his motorcycle.

Chancing a quick
glance down to where he had felt the pain, he was surprised to see the tail-end
of a small dart sticking out of him below the side of his ribcage. At that
moment, he was hit by a massive wave of dizziness and nausea accompanied by an
incredible explosion of pain in his chest. He was unconscious by the time he
hit the pavement and dead before traffic came to a standstill around him.

Ahead, past the
roundabout, Tuan secured the compressed gas dart-gun in the holster beneath his
windbreaker as he and his brother continued on Le Loi Boulevard, increasing the
distance between them and their former boss.

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