Shadows of War

by Larry Bond

  Mara leaned against Josh, half sleeping. It was going to be so good to get back to Bangkok and have a bath, she thought, a real bath.

  They hit a hard bump. She lifted her head, then started to lean back.

  Sleep would be nice.

  As she closed her eyes again, the truck began skidding sharply to the left. She was thrown against Josh, nearly bowling him over.

  “I’m sorry,” she started to say, when the truck flew back in the other direction and he was thrown on top of her.

  “Faster!” shouted Kerfer as the two Chinese soldiers came out firing from behind the wrecked van ahead.

  Little Joe rose and leaned out the passenger-side window with his gun. He fired a grenade at the van, then began emptying his rifle at the soldiers at the other side of the intersection. Kerfer spun his rifle around and bashed the windshield. The glass crinkled but didn’t break.

  “Scumbag Chinese,” he said, hitting it again in a second spot. “Don’t even make a goddamn window right.”

  This time the glass broke, most of it falling straight down on top of him. He spun his gun around, rose in the seat, and began firing.

  Zeus swerved hard to take the turn. Even though the truck was going only about twenty kilometers an hour, it rocked hard on its chassis, nearly leaving its wheels as he turned.

  They were past them. Safe.

  Almost.

  “Watch out in the back!” yelled Kerfer. He pushed up through the windshield, onto the truck, looking toward the rear. Three soldiers came running from the side of the road. He fired at them, but it was impossible to tell whether he had got them or his men in the back had.

  The lock on Little Joe’s door gave way and the door sprang open. The SEAL flew out with it, then lost his weapon as he scrambled to stay aboard the truck. Kerfer tossed his own gun back in the cab and reached over for his shooter, swinging him back in.

  Little Joe howled as his arm was caught against the door frame. Zeus hit the brakes.

  “What the hell are you stopping the truck for?” screamed Kerfer.

  “Get him in.”

  “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

  “Just get him the hell in.”

  The helicopter they’d heard earlier buzzed toward them from the east, its searchlight augering through the darkness toward their hood. Kerfer tilted his gun upward and fired. As he did, the woods on both sides of the truck lit up with gunfire.

  Jing Yo, rising from the ditch where he and his men had hidden themselves, zeroed in on the front of the truck as the helicopter came overhead. The truck suddenly stopped, hesitating for a moment before starting backward.

  “Fire! Fire!” yelled Jing Yo.

  His men, posted with regular army troops from the scouting group that had occupied the area earlier, began complying. The truck jerked backward, then disappeared in fog.

  Smoke. A grenade—several grenades, covering their retreat.

  “Keep attacking!” yelled Jing Yo.

  The helicopter was above, but not close enough to blow the smoke away. The truck wheeled to the side and crashed into something.

  Bullets flew back toward the Chinese troops. A tremendous fury rose from behind the trees. In the confusion, the jungle seemed to be exploding on its own, branches and even trunks flying around as the human enemies emptied their weapons against each other.

  “Don’t let them get away!” yelled Jing Yo. “They’re retreating!”

  Across the road, Ai Gua rose. He brought his gun up to fire, then fell, hit by a bullet. Sergeant Wu ran toward him.

  “No!” yelled Jing Yo, but it was too late—a grenade launched by the Americans exploded nearly in the sergeant’s face.

  Jing Yo started toward them. Something hit him hard in the shoulder, spinning him downward. His head lost its weight; he tasted the bitter water of pain and felt the admonishment of his mentors, the stern glance of the monks who had overseen his studies.

  “You will try harder,” they told him.

  Their words seized him, and he struggled to his feet to rejoin the battle.

  Josh pulled M beneath him as the truck shot backward. The canvas top above them seemed to disintegrate into flying lead. The SEALs scrambled toward the tailgate, pushing over him, but the truck was still moving, lurching from side to side. It slammed into something hard. Josh and M slipped into someone; before he could react, the truck spun back the other way and jerked down into a ditch.

  Josh felt himself being pulled or pushed out. He grabbed hold of M.

  “We’ll be all right, we’ll be all right,” he told her, the words an incantation.

  “Down, Josh, down!” yelled Mara, pulling him from the truck.

  Josh shoved himself out, curling M in his arms as he fell. He clung to her tightly, trying to spin so he would land on his shoulder. To his surprise they landed in water, sinking in a big splash before bottoming out. He jerked upright, then fell back under the surface, once more trying to spin to his side to keep M from getting hurt. This time he was only partly successful, and heard the girl yelp as he pushed back to his knees. The cry reassured him—she was still alive.

  “This way, this way!” yelled one of the SEALs.

  Josh got to his feet and began following in the direction of the voice, wading through the calf-deep water.

  “Come on,” said Mara, taking hold of his side. “Go! Come on!”

  “I have M,” he said, starting to run.

  “I know. Come on.”

  A light lit above, an illumination flare shot by one of the Chinese ambushers. The gunfire stoked up.

  “If I die,” Josh told Mara, “take the video to the UN.”

  “You’re not going to die,” she said. “Run!”

  As soon as Zeus felt the truck going down into the embankment, he knew he’d never get it out. He braced himself, revving the engine but not really in control as the vehicle bounded across the rocks and then wedged itself against a tree and the side of the ditch.

  “Get out!” he yelled, but he was the only one left in the cab. Kerfer and Little Joe were already on the road, providing covering fire.

  Zeus opened his door and threw himself out of the truck. His left arm hit the door side and he went into the dirt face-first, slamming into the side of the embankment. His legs were in water.

  He rolled over. Remembering that he had left his gun in the cab, he pulled himself up and went to grab it. As he did, a grenade or rocket shot through the passenger side of the cab, flying through the missing window and through the thin back panel into the back. Zeus fell backward, rifle in his hand, as it exploded in the jungle behind the truck.

  He landed under the water. Sputtering, he pulled himself up and started crawling on his hands and knees away from the truck. Someone had fired a flare, and the sky had become white with its harsh light, casting the jungle in alternating shadows of green and white. One of the SEALs lay on the edge of the road, gun pointing toward the area they’d just left.

  “Let’s get back,” Zeus told him.

  The sailor looked at him, then leaned his head forward, collapsing on the road. He’d been shot in several places.

  “Shit,” said Zeus.

  He scooped himself under the man’s stomach, wedging himself in so he could lift and carry him. He struggled up, then lost his balance and had to drop to his knees. His right knee hit a rock and the pain shook his entire frame.

  “Come on, damn it,” said Zeus, pushing backup.

  Bullets were flying everywhere. He ran along the road in the direction of the troops they had just driven past.

  Mara flung herself down as the SEALs in front of her began firing at the pair of Chinese soldiers in the intersection. The two men seemed bewildered, unsure of what was going on, frozen by the suddenness and ferocity of the fight. They paid for their surprise with their lives; the SEALs quickly cut them down.

  “Over there, over there!” yelled Mara, spotting two more soldiers up the road.

  Even as she yelled, she began firing
. One fell; the other threw himself back into the shadows.

  She looked back. Josh was in the ditch, carrying the girl.

  “That van!” she yelled to him. “We’ll take it!”

  Jing Yo felt the truth of the battle in his mind, understanding what was happening without the interpretation of words or logical reasoning. He had taken a gamble, and not entirely won—the Americans had been driven back, but the army soldiers he had alerted for assistance had not been able to rally quickly enough to overcome them. As a consequence, his small force had been overwhelmed.

  It was up to him.

  He reached into his pocket for the pencil flare, and fired it, signaling the helicopter to pick him up.

  Zeus ran down the road, carrying the SEAL on his back. With every step he expected to be hit. Bullets flew everywhere.

  Troops were firing from the trees along the road on his right—the rest of the SEALs, he thought, and he started angling toward them.

  Only as he reached the water on that side of the road did he realize the gunfire was coming from Chinese troops, part of the unit they had rushed past a minute earlier. A bullet flashed in his direction.

  They had spotted him.

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, starting to his left to get into the ditch for shelter.

  As he turned, a gun began roaring behind him. Then the woods erupted as a grenade went off.

  “Careful with him,” yelled Kerfer in Zeus’s ear. “He must be pretty shot up to let you carry him.”

  “No bull,” said Zeus.

  “Does that van you left behind still run?” Kerfer asked.

  “Damned if I know.”

  “Let’s try it.”

  “Which way?”

  “East! No sense having to do this again.”

  Josh yanked the rear door of the van open and slid inside. The truck was perforated with bullet holes.

  Mara was in the driver’s seat, trying to get it to turn over.

  “You’re going to flood it!” he yelled.

  “You worry about M!” she yelled back. “I got this.”

  The SEALs were outside, firing frenetically. One of them yelled something, and all at once the gunfire stopped.

  The engine coughed and sputtered. Mara tried again, but the battery whined, too tired to crank.

  Suddenly, the van lurched forward.

  “They’re pushing,” yelled Josh. “You gotta pop the clutch!”

  “What?”

  “The clutch.” He left M and went to the front, leaning over the seat. “Put it in first, push the clutch in, then let off when they’re pushing.”

  Mara cursed.

  “Wait until I say to push!” Josh yelled through the window.

  “Go, just go!” one of them yelled back.

  The van started to roll forward. Mara let off on the clutch too soon and the van stopped abruptly. She pushed back in, then tried again. The engine caught.

  “Put the clutch in. Don’t let it stall. Don’t let it stall!” yelled Josh.

  “Hey, I can drive!” she screamed. “Get the hell out of the way!” she shouted to the SEALs. “I gotta turn it around.”

  “We’re going back that way?” said Josh.

  “The whole damn Chinese army is west of us,” said Mara. “The only things east are the guys who were firing at us. Once we’re past them, we’re home free.”

  Zeus saw the van lurching back and forth in the road, trying to turn around. The SEAL grew heavier and heavier on his back as he ran, pressing him down, until his chest practically touched his knees. One of the sailors finally grabbed him near the vehicle, pulling his injured comrade down and helping Zeus get the man inside the truck.

  “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” he yelled, jumping inside.

  Then he realized Christian wasn’t there. Cursing, he turned and hopped out the back. As he did, a thick arm hit him across the chest just below the neck, practically clotheslining him.

  “Where are you going?” said Kerfer.

  “I need Major Christian,” he said. “We can’t leave him behind.”

  “This bus is leaving,” said Kerfer.

  “He’s too valuable.”

  “I’m here!” yelled Christian, running up with one of the SEALs.

  “Go, let’s go!” shouted Kerfer. He jumped onto the top of the van. “Don’t stop if I fall off! If anybody falls off—don’t stop! Just go. It’s the scientist we want. Everybody else walks. It’s hell or bust!”

  Jing Yo threw himself through the large hatchway into the helicopter, scrambled to his feet, and ran up front to the cockpit.

  “They’re getting into a van!” yelled the pilots.

  It was a stroke of luck.

  Jing Yo turned and ran back to the cabin. “Shoot at the van,” he told the gunner there. “Shoot it when it comes down the road.”

  “We have only a few rounds left.”

  They had gone through a dozen boxes of ammunition during the mission.

  “Fire until you’re out of bullets. Then use your personal weapons.”

  Jing Yo raised the rifle in his hand. He too was nearly out of ammunition—one more box of shells besides the one he had in the gun.

  “Get us over the van!” he shouted as the helicopter swirled. “Get us close!”

  The helicopter circled back, following the van. Jing Yo began to fire. So did the door gunner. Bullets flew back at him. The pilot backed off.

  Jing Yo’s anger exploded. He leapt to the cockpit. “That van must be stopped. Get closer!”

  “I’m as close as I dare.”

  “You will crash into it if necessary,” said Jing Yo.

  “No, I won’t, Lieutenant.”

  Jing Yo put the muzzle of his rifle against the pilot’s neck. The barrel was still hot, and the pilot yelped with pain.

  “Crash into the bastards. It is our duty.”

  The van jerked out of Mara’s control every time they hit water. She had to take her foot off the gas, try and hold the wheel straight, and just wait until the steering came back.

  The gunfire seemed to have died down, if not stopped. They were past the Chinese, beyond the worst of it.

  The van skidded around the corner. Mara backed off on the gas, pushed into the skid, then corrected, trying not to oversteer. She got onto a patch of dry, smooth road and went straight for a few yards, then came to water and began skidding again. The SEALs on the roof—there were at least three—lurched and slid with the van.

  Josh had pushed into the front seat beside her, along with one of the SEALs, who was leaning halfway out the window with his gun.

  “The helicopter!” yelled Josh. “It’s coming back around.”

  “Shoot it down!” yelled Mara.

  Josh grabbed her gun from the floor. The SEAL began firing. The helicopter arced in front of them, giving whoever was in the cabin a good angle to fire. Mara swerved, trying to stay with the road as it pushed right. The chopper passed overhead.

  “Good one!” yelled Josh. “Now go! Get us out of here!”

  The road took another sharp turn right. It was rising out of the flooded area. Mara stepped on the gas but quickly went into another skid. She just barely retained control.

  “He’s coming back!” yelled Josh.

  The helicopter swung around in front of them. Everyone in the van seemed to be firing at him, but he was coming in, still firing.

  “I think he’s going to crash into us!” yelled Josh.

  “Hang on!” yelled Mara as the turn came up.

  She started to yank the wheel right, to take the switchback, but the wheels of the van kept going straight. She gave up trying to correct it and instead spun the wheel to make the skid worse, spinning into the bend of the road. Mara jammed the brakes, trying to stop as they slid in among the trees. The helicopter passed within a few feet, its undercarriage ripping into the treetops as it shot by.

  “Go, go, go!” yelled Josh.

  “No fucking kiddin’,” growled Mara, pulling
out of the jungle and back onto the road.

  Jing Yo hurtled toward the open door of the helicopter as the aircraft lurched through the tops of the trees. He saw blackness, then light, and for a moment he believed that he had left the realm of pain and confusion, the world that every devout Buddhist vows to escape. Then his hands slammed against the side of the cabin. They grabbed hold, and he managed to hold himself in the aircraft even though his feet dangled in the void.

  The helicopter whirled in a backward circle. Jing Yo clawed at the side of the cabin, pulling himself toward the cockpit.

  “The van!” he yelled. “The van!”

  The pilots were too busy to hear him. The chopper’s engine, hit in a dozen places, had given out. They saw a flat, open space before them—the overflowing creek—and aimed for it.

  “Brace for impact!” yelled the copilot.

  A half second later, the helicopter crashed into the water.

  32

  Northern Vietnam

  Mara’s hand trembled as they climbed up the second switchback. The helicopter seemed to have disappeared.

  “God, this thing is impossible to steer,” she said, taking the turn. “Did we lose anyone? Josh—where are the SEALs?”

  “Don’t worry about us,” said the sailor to Josh’s right. He turned around, putting his feet on the seat and leaning across what had been the windshield before it was shot out. “Just keep going.”

  “I’m not leaving any of you behind.”

  “You aren’t.” Kerfer leaned over the side, his head at her window.

  “Just keep going.”

  “Okay, okay.” She downshifted to take the next curve. “I hate manual transmissions.”

  They crested the hill. There were no lights in front of them, no gun flashes, no explosions.

  “I’m going to check on M,” said Josh. He left the gun and climbed back.

  M was sitting between two of the SEALs, watching as they performed a silent puppet show with their fingers. The girl started laughing as the fingers crashed into each other. They’d finally won her over.