the Last Run (1987) (15 page)

Gibson stopped in his tracks and backed away from the officer. "Avant, you're unbelievable. You don't know me from Adam and yet you decide I'm John Wayne, got character, and have to smile all the time, for Christ's sake!" Gibson's hard stare broke and he cracked a slight grin. "But you got one thing right. I'm a good judge of character, and Brad, you're the craziest son of a bitch I've ever met."

Avant laughed loudly and tossed his arm over Gibson's shoulder again. "Cousin, we gonna make a helluva team, with me bein' crazy and you keepin' us straight. Damn, this company better watch out!"

Major Shane sat at his desk, waiting. Lieutenants Gibson, Avant, and Foley sat in folding chairs around his desk, with First Sergeant Demand, Childs, and several senior NCOs leaning against the far wall.

Shane glanced at his Rolex GMT Master-0803 hours. The door opened and in strode Lieutenant Dickey. Shane stared at the late officer as he took a seat beside Avant.

Strike two, he said to himself, as he looked back at his scribbled notes.

"Today, at 1300 hours, we receive two planeloads of replacements from the 173rd. When they arrive, we begin a comprehensive training program. Because of officer and expert- ence shortages, we are going to consolidate our training. I will oversee the program, along with First Sergeant Demand, but Sergeant Childs will be in charge of all initial screening and training. Platoon sergeants, along with selected, mature Ranger veterans, will act as trainers and cadre. We are considering all other men students. They will take all training, and they will be thrown out if they can't hack it. Officers will be trained separately by me. First Sergeant is your point of contact for all training equipment, chow, billeting, and vehicle support. What are your questions?"

No one spoke. Shane stood. "Good. We'll have a daily meeting during morning chow to discuss problems and how things are going. Those of you who don't know each other, introduce yourselves. I'm going to the airfield and lay on some bird dogs for officer training. I'll see everyone at lunch." The group snapped to attention as the major walked for the door.

When the major had gone, Gibson introduced himself to Lieutenant Foley, who, Gibson thought, looked out of place with his thick, black-rimmed glasses and bookish appearance.

Foley talked in a squeaky voice, but had a suspiciously strong grip. He also wore a Ranger tab, which told Gibson the man had more character strength than his weak-looking exterior suggested.

Gibson felt a tap and turned around to stare at a bantam black first sergeant who held out his hand. The senior NCO could have been picked out of a crowd as a first sergeant. His frame was small, but his shoulders were broad and powerful. He looked like a boxer, but was dressed in starched-stiff fatigues and shiny black jump boots. His smiling face exposed gleaming white teeth and twinkling eyes. "L-tee, it's good to have a fellow sky-soldier join my Rangers."

Gibson shook hands with First Sergeant Demand, and trying not to show his discomfort in the man's viselike grip, returned the pressure. Demand's eyes showed the pleasure he took in the contest and finally released his hold. "Good, L-Tee, you'll do fine. First Sergeant likes shaking hands with real paratroopers. If you need anything, you see ol' Top."

"It's a pleasure, Top. I'm glad to be here."

Lieutenant Avant took Gibson's arm and walked him to the door, whispering, "Sorry, cousin, forgot to warn you about Top's handshake. He nearly broke my hand the first time I met him."

Gibson opened and closed his stiff hand. "What else haven't you told me about him?"

"You'll see when you eat chow this evening."

Cam Tiem Mountains

Matt Wade stepped out of the jungle and cussed. Before him was a wide, meandering river blocking their route.

The woman came up behind him and sat down tiredly. "Don't even ask. I can't swim that."

They had reached the valley floor an hour before and made good time through the sparse jungle. Wade thought the road wouldn't be more than a few kilometers away.

He scanned the far side, then looked up the near banks for a place to cross. To the west looked best. "Come on, Ginny, we'll walk up aways and find a place to cross."

The woman looked up, genuinely surprised at his tone of voice. He had spoken without growling.

She put her hand out, and he pulled her up. "We're finally becoming a civil person, aren't we?" she said sarcastically.

Wade just sighed and began walking along the bank.

Four hundred meters down, where the river widened further and had a sand bar in its center, they stopped and Wade took off his boots. He tied the laces together, put the boots around his neck, and began wading out into the muddy water. It only came up to his knees. "Okay, take off your shoes and come on."

He held her hand and they crossed to the sand bar. The water had only come to their waist. Wade released her hand and tested along the other side. The water was much deeper, coming to his chest in only a few steps. Shit!

He waded back and sat down, studying the bank only twenty meters away.

Virginia stood over him. "Forget it, Wade. It's too deep. I can't make it."

Wade's jaw muscles rippled as he clenched his teeth. He'd had all he could stand. "Look, I'm sick and tired of your saying 'I can't'! We've made it this far, and we're gonna keep on makin' it."

"How?" she asked smugly.

Wade stared at her for a moment, then looked at the far bank. "I'll think of something."

The woman shook her head and pulled out the two empty water bags. "While you're thinking, Einstein, you can fill these." She tossed the bags to the sand in front of him.

Wade only glanced at the quart containers, then shifted his gaze back to the river. He stared for several seconds before suddenly looking back at the bags. "Take off your clothes!"

"What?"

"You heard me, get 'em off."

Wade grabbed one of the bags, blew into it like he would a balloon, closed it, and then picked up the other.

Virginia was beginning to think he'd finally gone crazy. Wade looked up after filling the second bag. "Now, or I'll take them off!"

Realizing he meant what he said she began to unzip her suit. "You'd better have a good reas ..."

The sergeant swiftly unbuckled his pistol belt and took off his pants, stopping her in mid-sentence. He hadn't lied; he didn't wear underwear!

She quickly continued unzipping her suit and stepped out of it.

"Tie a knot at the end of each leg." he commanded.

"Why are we doing this? I don't..."

Wade grabbed the suit away from her and quickly tied the knots, then put the air-filled bags inside the suit and pushed them up the legs to the knots. He then tied the other end into a large knot, waded out into the water, and lay down. The inflated legs supported him like water wings.

He waded back and threw her the wet jumpsuit, then picked up the pistol belt and trousers, placing them around his neck.

"Let's go."

"What about my vest?"

"Leave it." Wade grabbed her hand and waded into the river. They made it a quarter of the way before the water rose to his chin. Virginia was already floating. He pulled her in front of him, directing her head toward the bank. "Kick like hell." He shoved her toward shore.

She screamed "No!" but began kicking with all her strength.

Wade tried to sidestroke but the weight of the vest and pistol belt dragged him down. He took a deep breath and sank.

Virginia made the bank easily and climbed up the slope. "You bastard! You son of a . . ." She turned, looking for him, but he wasn't there. "Wade!"

He broke from the water midway across and gasped in a deep breath before disappearing again.

"Oh my God. Wade!"

She waded out to her waist, crying out for him, when he suddenly popped up in front of her gasping for air.

"Wade!"

She grabbed for him, but he got to his feet and stood up in front of her, taking in deep breaths. She sniffed back tears of relief and put out her hand to help him.

He waved her back. "Hirn around till I get my pants on."

She looked at him in disbelief. What was left that he was afraid she might see? She could hardly keep from laughing as she shook her head at the absurdity and turned around. 4 Wow, we're even, Wade," she said, glancing back over her shoulder.

An Khe Ranger Base Camp

The last truck pulled away in a cloud of red dust, leaving ninety- five replacements from die 173rd. They wore green jungle fatigues and baseball-style hats. They assembled quickly in a ragged formation at the command of Sergeant Gino. Next to the replacements stood a formation of ninety-eight Rangers wearing their camouflage fatigues and flop hats. Childs had directed that they were no longer authorized to wear the black beret until they completed training. Behind the two formations were the platoon sergeants and twelve selected cadre who wore black berets and olive drab T-shirts. Thumper, Rose, and Russian stood in their ranks, having been selected as instructors.