the Last Run (1987) (38 page)

"Sir?"

Shane turned around. Thumper walked toward him with his head lowered, speaking almost in a whisper. "Can I speak to you a minute, sir?"

Wade and his team left the ops center after the debrief and walked wearily toward the barracks.

Rose patted Preacher's back. "Man, them dinks really smell when they get cooked, don't they?"

Preacher nodded but tried to block out the images of the torn, blackened corpses of the three men they'd found. The gunship rockets had scored a direct hit on two of the pathetic VC, tearing and burning their bodies into lumps of smoldering, oozing flesh. The smell of cordite and burning human tissue were forever seared into his senses.

Woodpecker saw Preacher's discomfort and put his arm over the Indian's shoulder. "Ya done real good on the radio . . . thanks."

Wade grasped the barracks door handle and looked over his shoulder. "Which one of you guys threw the grenade from the gully?"

Woodpecker pointed quickly to Russian, disgustedly.4 'He did! I told him not to, but did he listen? Hell no! Said he wanted to kill Communists!"

Russian shrugged his shoulders. "That is our mission, no?"

Wade laughed and pulled open the door. He was immediately attacked by Bitch, who jumped up on his legs excitedly. "Russian, Bitch has missed ..."

He stopped in mid-sentence: Thumper was unpacking his equipment by his old bunk.

Rose brushed past Wade with a wide smile and tossed his ruck on the floor. "Thump, man, ya shoulda seen me. There I was ..." The other men walked past their team sergeant, all talking at once to the big soldier as if he'd never left.

Thumper smiled at Rose's enthusiasm.

Wade winked at Thumper. His friend was back. Rose and the others understood, too. It didn't matter how or why he'd returned to them. It didn't matter. He'd returned.

Wade went back to his room, tossed his ruck and weapon to his bed, and walked back into the bay. He wanted to be with his team-the whole team as they came down from the high of the contact. He needed to be with them and to hear the retelling of events.

"Man, it was a real trip. Russian and Woodpecker fired up two dudes big-time and do this swan dive off the cliff. Luke raises up outta nowhere and blasts back, I mean, seriously pissed. Matt shits his pants and sprays ..." Somehow it was always better when Rose told it.

Mary Ann received a call from Thumper at midnight and wiped tears from her eyes as she replaced the handset. He'd said he sent a letter a few days before and wanted her to tear it up. He'd changed his mind and was staying with the team.

She sat down on her bed. She knew he had to stay or it would never be the same between them. The knowing hurt. He'd been going home to safety but now . . . damn this war! She glanced at the chair across the room where the day before Virginia sat for two hours talking to her before leaving and catching her flight to the Philippines. The litde singer knew the same pain. At least Thumper and she admitted they loved each other. Viiginia couldn't bring herself to admit the fact, but it was evident the sergeant had gotten to her. As confidendy as she'd talked about her singing career, her questions and tears were about love. She insisted that she and Matt were from different, incompatible worlds and that their relationship was just one of two ships passing in the night.

"Looks to me the ships collided a couple of times," Mary Ann had commented.

Virginia hadn't laughed or smiled. Instead, her eyes had grown misty.

The poor girl had never been in love before. Her emotions were tugging her insides out. A career had always been the most important thing in her life . . . until now. The inner conflict Virginia would have to resolve caused Mary Ann to reach out to her and offer the only advice she felt comfortable giving.

"Ginny, go to the Philippines. Work hard and do your best and let time help you sort out your feelings."

Mary Ann broke her trance from the empty chair and lay back on the bed. Her body still tingled inside from talking to Thumper, lust the sound of his voice had made her knees feel weak and her insides flutter. She smiled and shut her eyes to be with him again in her dreams.

Chapter 19

3 October

First Sergeant Demand let his men eat their breakfast in peace. They'd packed their gear the day before and would be moving to Phan Thiet. In a few hours, his Rangers would board Air Force C-130s and fly south, once again leaving him with the administrative duties of running the permanent rear base camp.

As the bantam soldier silently watched the men enter the mess hall, he wondered which ones would never return. The major had told him about the Corps' mission; finding an NVA division would be extremely dangerous. The large numbers of enemy could overwhelm six lighdy armed men long before gunships could come to their aid. The senior soldier studied each face and memorized each name. If word came back that one had died, he wanted to feel the loss. They deserved at least that.

There was only one consolation in this kind of situation: his men were Rangers. They were men who knew the danger and yet went willingly. They were a special breed who lived for challenge. They wanted it no other way. Not only did they understand the risk, it was what they sought. Something inside was pushing each man forward to face the ultimate challenge of imminent death.

First Sergeant waited until the last man entered, and looked down at his spot. He wouldn't stand here again until they returned. Raising his head proudly, he strolled out the door without looking back.

Major Shane took a bite of dehydrated scrambled eggs and quickly washed them down with a slug of coffee. "Agh, this crap is terrible!"

"Hell, it's free," said Childs, who had just finished his meal.

Shane took another swig of coffee and shook his head. "Free my ass. This is costing me another year from my wife and sons."

Childs snickered. "If you tasted my ol' lady's cookin' you wouldn't complain."

Shane set down his cup, surprised. Childs had not once made reference to his wife in all the time he'd known him. "Where is your wife, anyway?" he asked.

Childs stared at his tray. "Fort Bragg. She works at the post grade school makin' me beer money."

"She like teaching?"

"Now, she don't teach. She cooks in the cafeteria. We got us a house and her job pays the bills. She don't like cookin' when she comes home, so all I get is shit."

Shane wanted to pursue the conversation, but the sergeant seemed uncomfortable talking about her.

Lieutenant Gibson sat down at their table and motioned to Shane's eggs. "Sir, you gonna eat your ..."

The major shoved his tray over. "Damn, J. D., you're as bad as Childs. How do you stand the stuff?"

Gibson grinned as he reached for a bottle of Tabasco sauce. "A litde of this, sir, and you don't taste a thing."

Shane smiled and picked up his coffee cup. "J. D., we got a call from Foley early this morning and we've had some changes. We're still flying into Phan Thiet but won't be staying there. Corps has given us a base to work out of closer to the area of operation. It's twenty miles northwest of Phan Thiet near a town called An Lom. It's an engineer base and has a fully operational airfield. The birds can all bed down with us. It'll save a lot of time and work out better for the operation."

"We gonna truck to An Lom then, sir?" asked Gibson with his mouth partially full.

"Yeah, we'll be in An Lom by 1500 this afternoon. We'll have three days before we begin operations. Foley says the engineers built super facilities and they're all out on a building site farther north. The only guys left behind are shitbirds, but Foley says they may be a problem. You'll have to be on the lookout while we're there and make sure our guys don't mess with them."

Gibson noticed the hint of concern in his commander's voice. "Sure, sir. I'll brief the platoon before we go."

Shane pulled a folded map from his pocket and spread it out on the table. "This is the area we'll be working. I'll brief the teams in two days, but you need to memorize key terrain features before we go in. Take this map and start sleeping with it. You won't be able to overfly the area until we actually go in."

Gibson let out a deep breath when he saw the size of the marked area. "All 9f this! My God, it's . . ."

"Almost a hundred square miles," said Shane. "You see, it's almost a perfect rectangle and I've broken it down into four equal recon zones. We'll put our three platoons into the first three zones. It'll take a couple of days to put them in because of distance and establishing radio relay sites."

Gibson shifted his gaze to the fourth area. "How about this one?" he asked, tapping the fourth recon zone.

Shane exchanged glances with Childs. "We hope we find them before we have to work that area. It's rugged and doesn't have very many landing zones."

Gibson lifted his finger and looked closer at the fourth box. The terrain was mostly rain forest-covered mountains, but there was one prominent feature-a river that ran north to south. In the center of the area the river made a large horseshoe bend. Within the bend was a ring of steep hills with a huge open valley in its center.

Gibson looked up. "This looks like a giant football stadium."

Shane smiled and took out a pen. "J. D., you just named the fourth box. We'll call it the 'Stadium Zone.' " He wrote the words on the upper right-hand corner of the map and pushed it toward J. D. "Let's just hope we don't have to play ball there."

Wade and the team sat at the corner table, eating the normal B ration breakfast-with the exception of Russian, who was having his favorite, SOS-shit on a shingle, hambuiger and gravy on toast.

Rose leaned over toward the Czech and sniffed the air. "Dig it, dudes. I smell a foreigner who ain't had a shower since he been here."

Russian's eyes narrowed as he picked up his knife and stood slowly.

The men sitting at the next table looked on worriedly, but the team seemed unconcerned.

"Rose, you say bad things again," Russian growled.

Rose took another bite of bacon. "It's true, man. Ain't ya heard Top's speech on being clean? Man, you stink."

Russian tossed the knife expertly to his other hand and leaned over menacingly. "I cut your tongue out."

Rose continued chewing his food nonchalantly. "Then who gonna save your big ass in the toolies?"

Russian's knife flashed, stabbing the sweet roll on Rose's plate and flicking it up. Russian caught the roll in midair and took a vengeful bite.

Rose put his fork down slowly and shook his head. "Aw, Russian, not the roll, man."

Russian sat back and took another bite while glaring at Rose.

The team broke up in laughter and Thumper put a consoling arm around Rose. "You woulda made Top proud."

Rose looked over his shoulder and threw his thumb in the first sergeant's direction. "I'm gonna be just like him one day. I'm gonna be a first sergeant and get rid of foreigners in this Army, like Russian. I'm gonna do it, you just wait and see."

"I didn't know you were lifer type, Rose," Wade said, a little surprised.

"Sure, man. I got it. When I leave the Nam, I'm puttin' in to be an instructor at the Airborne school. They was real professionals, and it's a good place to start my career."

Woodpecker shook his head. "You, an Airborne instructor? Man, us paratrooper's is gonna lose our reputation. Rose, you gonna have to gain some weight. Here, have my roll. You gonna need it, man."

Preacher raised his milk carton. "To the Rose, an Airborne instructor and future first sergeant. There could none be better."

The team lifted their milk containers. "To The Rose!"

The black soldier smiled and pointed his finger at Russian. "And you still stink, man."

Beneath a giant boulder outcrop Sergeant Din Su Thong shaped the last clay hill while looking at his reference map. The terrain model of the fortress had to be perfect to please his general.

A young soldier stood by like an assisting nurse, handing the sergeant the instruments he required for his work. Sergeant Thong held out a muddy hand. "White clay."

Private Nuu reached into a tin bucket and handed over a glob of the special stream clay that dried like iron. Thong placed the goo on the hilltop and flattened it slightly. With a bamboo knife he cut out the ravines and shaped the ridges, knowing his general would want perfection.

Ten minutes later the sergeant stood back from his work and wiped the sticky mud from his hands. The terrain model was complete. Perhaps now the Tall One would smile. The general had been ill-tempered since his arrival two days before. He'd found General Sang's Second Division improperly positioned and was angry that they hadn't dug protective bunkers. Thong stepped closer to the model and motioned his assistant to him. "We are blessed, Nuu, to work for such a leader as the Tall One. You see now why he is a genius of war."

The young private yawned. He saw only mounds of clay on the ground that had taken all morning for the old sergeant to fashion.

Thong angrily kicked at the young soldier's leg. "You are a fool! You appreciate nothing!"

Private Nuu stiffened and stared at his berater. "I know nothing of maps or units. I was a bricklayer in my village before being drafted."

Sergeant Thong realized the boy was right. He patted Nuu's back apologetically. "I'm sorry, my friend. I am taking out my anger on you instead of the others who do not listen to our general. They are fools not to appreciate his wisdom. I will explain the terrain model to you and why the general has been so ill- tempered."