Shock of War

by Larry Bond

22

  In the air over northern Vietnam

  Zeus lurched against his restraints as Thieu threw the Albatros toward the earth, trying desperately to lose the missiles on their tail. Buzzers and bleeps and voices warned of their impending doom. Zeus felt as if his stomach and lungs were being torn into several pieces inside his body. Gravity crunched against his chest, and his face mask felt as if it were edged with a steel knife, cutting deeply into his face.

  The Albatros jerked right, heading straight for a huge rock outcropping. Then it spurt back left. Something popped behind Zeus. He thought they’d been hit. But as the plane hurtled ahead, he realized Thieu had launched decoys—“tinsel,” or chaff, the pilots called it, pieces of metal shards that confused radar.

  The Albatros shot straight up, then turned upside down. Zeus caught a red flash in the corner of his eye—one of the missiles that had been chasing them, blowing up harmlessly a mile or more away, suckered by the decoy.

  The other missile mysteriously vanished, just gave up as its radar lost contact. The cockpit went silent.

  But not for long.

  “Bandit, ten o’clock!” said Thieu. “Hang on, Major!”

  If air combat had ever held any fascination for Zeus, it was lost in the sharp plunge the Albatros took as it knifed away from its attacker. Zeus saw a yellowish triangle moving through the valley at his left. It was the Chinese aircraft—a Jian-10B multirole aircraft, a plane Zeus knew only from the dry specs in the Red Dragon war game simulator he had used back in the States. The aircraft bore a striking resemblance to the Israeli Lavi, not exactly a coincidence or accident, as the Israelis had helped the Chinese develop the plane.

  Having already fired its radar-guided missiles, the Chinese plane had to maneuver into position to use its heat-seeking missiles. In practical terms, this meant it had to get behind the Albatros, something that Thieu aimed to prevent, jinking back and forth sharply and staying low to the ground.

  “Look for his wing mate!” said Thieu over the plane’s interphone. “He should have a wing mate. He is not on my radar.”

  Zeus searched the sky for a second airplane. He couldn’t see any aircraft, not even the one that had attacked them.

  The Albatros pushed hard to the right, seemingly bending itself in half. Zeus saw fire on his left as they bounced back around

  Decoy flares, launched by Thieu.

  There was a low rumble. The plane bucked up and down. The engine seemed to stutter behind him, as if choking. They slid down on their left wing. Then Zeus felt a shake from the center line of the aircraft—the cannon strapped to the forward underside began firing.

  More flares filled the air, this time directly from the Chinese plane, its pilot apparently fearing the Albatros had a missile similar to its own.

  And then it was gone.

  The whine of the Albatros’s engine dropped a dozen decibels. The plane slowed and banked eastward. Zeus thought for a moment that they had been hit again, or had run out of fuel. But Thieu was only recognizing that the fight was over. The Chinese pilot had laid on his afterburner and was rocketing away. The Albatros lacked the speed to catch up, and was low on fuel besides.

  “We gave him a good fight!” yelled Thieu.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “What do you think of that, Major? We have chased off a bigger plane. Do you think we damaged him?”

  “I’m sure of it,” said Zeus.

  23

  Suburban Virginia

  As an institution, the CIA had almost unlimited resources for finding someone.

  As an individual, a CIA officer was surprisingly limited. He—or in this case, she—couldn’t simply type in a name into a computer bank and receive reams of information on the person, even if the information was stored in the agency’s computers. There were protocols and safeguards and procedures that had to be followed.

  Assuming they were followed.

  Within a few minutes of deciding that she really, really did want to find out, Mara knew exactly where Josh was headed. The problem was deciding what to do about it.

  What she wanted to do was hop on a plane and fly out to the cousin’s farm. She could get there before he did; he was driving, which meant it would take probably another half day if not a full day.

  But doing that would be messy. Doing that meant she had to tell him that she was in love with him.

  And if she told him, then what happened? Obviously he wasn’t in love with her, because he wouldn’t have left the way he did.

  He had kissed her. But it was just a kiss, a good-to-be-alive kiss, nothing more.

  A nothing kiss, in the end.

  She’d go there, and be rejected; he’d look down at the ground and stammer. What the hell was the sense of that?

  How the hell could she have let herself fall in love with him? She was such a goddamn girl.

  Be a woman, Mara.

  Oh, but the woman in her wanted him as well. The woman in her—the woman who knew that she was no great beauty, but that she was, and could be, a good companion, a good lover, someone who would hold a man and make him whole—the woman pined for him as well.

  In the end, she decided to call the marshal.

  “Terrence, this is Mara Duncan,” she said when he answered the phone. “Where the hell are you guys?”

  “Ms. Duncan.” The marshal’s Texas accent blossomed. “We’re in a car. He wanted to go back to his family place. I’m watchin’ him. You don’t have to worry.”

  “I understand that. Let me talk to Josh.”

  “He’s kinda sleeping right now. In the backseat.”

  “Terrence, are you lying to me?”

  “No,” he said. There was enough surprise in his voice for her to believe him.

  “I’m supposed to be watching him,” she said. It was lame, but it was all she could manage.

  “I have it covered. He hated that hearing,” added the marshal. “That guy Jablonski keeps calling. Josh doesn’t want to talk to him.”

  “Tell him he didn’t do as badly as he thinks.” Mara wanted to keep talking; maybe Josh would wake up and take the phone. “He gets … Josh gets too down on himself. You have to tell him that things are going okay. Not great, but okay. He just loses perspective. We’ve been through a lot.”

  “Hey, you want me to wake him up or something?”

  She did. She definitely did.

  “No,” said Mara. “It’s all right. You take care of him. Have him call me. I’m … I have some things I have to do. But you have him call me. You have my number, right?”

  “It’s right here on the phone.”

  “Okay. Have him call me.”

  “Got it.”

  She hung up, wishing she hadn’t repeated her plea to have him call.

  24

  Hanoi

  After they landed on the patched tarmac of Hanoi Airport, Zeus and Thieu examined the fighter. A good portion of the tail had been eaten away by ground fire and the exploding head of one of the missiles that had just missed them.

  Thieu gestured at the damaged aircraft with a laugh, and shouted something at Zeus. A jet landing nearby made it impossible to hear, but Zeus guessed that it was some sort of boast along the lines of, Is that the best they can do?

  “Do you think we shot the other plane down?” he added, his voice a little stronger as the other plane’s roar subsided.

  Zeus had seen it fly off and knew they hadn’t come close to hitting it, let alone shooting it down. Yet somehow it didn’t feel right to let him down.

  “It’s a very good chance,” Zeus told him.

  Thieu patted him on the back.

  * * *

  An hour later, Zeus waited outside an office at the U.S. embassy to talk to General Perry. He was beyond exhausted. The injuries he’d received in his foray behind the lines, though minor, screamed at him. Even the spots on his chest where the restraints had pressed against him during the flight hurt.

  He thought of Anna. She’d be on shift now. He wanted t
o take her in his arms and fall into her bed, sink past the war, sink past everything for a week, a month, forever.

  God, she was beautiful. He could feel her lips on his.…

  “You sleeping, Major?”

  Zeus jumped to his feet. A woman in her early thirties was standing a few feet from his chair in the hallway, suppressing a smile.

  Barely.

  “I’m s-sorry,” stuttered Zeus. “I haven’t gotten much rest lately.”

  “Join the club.”

  If she was tired, it didn’t show in her face. She wore a long white sweater over black pants, very basic, yet flattering. Anna was prettier, but the woman in front of him was no slouch.

  “I’m Juliet Greig,” she said, holding out her hand. “Acting Consul General. We haven’t met.”

  “No. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re here to see General Perry?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She smiled indulgently at the word ma’am.

  “He’s in with the ambassador and would like you to address them both. They’re downstairs. If you’ll follow me.”

  She led Zeus to the secure area of the embassy, where a suite of rooms were protected from electronic eavesdropping. Greig stopped in front of a thick door. She drew a magnetic card from her pocket and ran it through a reader, then pressed her thumb against a flat plate of glass beneath the card slot.

  The lock snapped open. Greig and Zeus entered a small, narrow vestibule covered in what looked like cork. There was a second door, this one operated by a numerical keypad.

  “Please don’t peek,” said Greig over her shoulder.

  Zeus stepped back.

  “It was a joke,” she said as the door unlocked. “Peeking wouldn’t help you—the combination changes every hour.”

  She pushed open the door, then stood to the side as Zeus entered. He brushed against her arm ever so gently, catching a whiff of her perfume.

  It made him think of Anna.

  General Perry and Ambassador Behrens were on phones at the far end of the table that dominated the room. Behind them were a pair of boxes that looked as if they were part of a very upscale home entertainment system. Blue lights flickered on both. A single laptop sat on the table.

  Perry gestured to Zeus, indicating he should sit down on one of the chairs scattered nearby. They were folding chairs, the sort you would see in a church basement.

  “Yes, sir, Mr. President,” continued Perry. “I understand.”

  He frowned, and glanced at the ambassador.

  “We will,” she said, and hung up.

  “How was your flight, Major?” said Perry, placing the phone on the receiver.

  “It was … interesting,” said Zeus. “We, uh … we got fired on a couple of times.”

  “No damage?”

  “Plane got banged up, but we got home. The Chinese are moving past Tien Yen,” he added. “The Vietnamese were overrun farther north. Part of the armored brigade hasn’t even reached the city yet.”

  “Are they going to launch a counterattack there?” asked Perry.

  “It didn’t look like they were organized at all. Frankly, hitting the city now would be a waste of time. They’d have to get farther north if they wanted to cut off the Chinese supply lines.”

  “Or go farther south if they want to confront the spearhead,” said Perry.

  “Could you show me where we’re talking about on the map?” asked Behrens. She touched a few keys on the laptop and pushed it over toward Zeus.

  Zeus showed her.

  “There’s vacuum north of Lang Son,” he told Perry. “You could attack north and get pretty far.”

  “The Vietnamese can’t even defend their own soil,” said Perry, with some disgust.

  The general pulled the laptop closer to him. Zeus noticed his arm brush against Behrens’s; he wondered if they were lovers.

  Certainly not. They pulled their arms away almost instantly.

  He was seeing sex in everything because of Anna.

  “There’s something else,” Zeus said. “The Yen Tu Mountains are a no-fly zone. Why do you think that is?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Perry.

  “We couldn’t fly over the area,” said Zeus. “We detoured around it around it the whole flight. I definitely got the impression that I wasn’t supposed to see something there.”

  “Show me,” said Perry.

  Zeus pointed out the area over the mountains. It was a large swatch east of Hanoi.

  “Could that be where the government is going to evacuate to?” the general asked Behrens.

  “I doubt it. Their bunkers are all in Hanoi and to the south, where the military headquarters are.”

  “Well, something’s there,” said Zeus. “Can I get a look at the satellite data?”

  “Absolutely,” said Perry, rising. “They’re in the other room. Come with me.”

  * * *

  Zeus didn’t know exactly what he hoped to find in the satellite imagery of the Yen Tu Mountains in Quàng Ninh Province. But whatever it was, he didn’t find it. The mountains looked like crusty patches of tan and green, crisscrossed by strings of blue. These were intersected by a spider web of gray lines—small local roads.

  The sheer number surprised Zeus. Some were related to the Yen Tu Buddhist relic, a holy place marked by a massive bronze statue and surrounding pagodas. The ancient Vietnamese king Trân Nhân Tông was said to have sat in meditation at the spot in the mountains. Located about midway through the range, the relic was popular with pilgrims and hikers.

  Away from the relic, the mountains were heavily mined, with coal and bauxite among the more plentiful minerals. Titanium, chromium, copper, and tin were also found there, as were rare earth metals.

  Temples and mines were hardly a reason for a no-fly zone. Zeus studied the images, looking for signs of a bunker that might serve as an emergency retreat for the Hanoi government. But if it was there, it wasn’t obvious. The mines were almost exclusively open pits: big holes in the ground where mountain peaks had once stood. Nor were there defenses ringed around them.

  “It doesn’t make all that much sense,” Zeus told Perry. “A no-fly zone over a bunch of mines?”

  “Maybe they’re not hiding anything at all,” Perry suggested, rubbing his eyes. “Maybe they’re worried about damaging the pagoda.”

  “There are shrines all over the place. Dau Pagoda’s just outside Hanoi. That’s not a no-fly zone.”

  “This one’s more important.”

  Zeus wasn’t convinced, but he had no other explanation. And there were other problems to worry about.

  “If you were the Vietnamese,” said Perry, “what would you do?”

  “Assuming they’re heading toward Hai Phong? I’d swing down here and try and trip them up. Separate the armor from the infantry. It’s almost hopeless, though.”

  “What if it weren’t? Where can you stop them?”

  Zeus tapped the area near Dam Trong, west of Cai Bdu Island. It was an area made for ambushes, with small bridges and a myriad of irrigation ditches feeding the inland rice fields that had been built in the past two or three years.

  “Slow them down here,” added Zeus. “Maybe you can get the infantry units that retreated to hit their rear.”

  “Will it work?” asked Perry.

  “If those A-10As were here.”

  “Forget them.”

  “More weapons. I don’t know.”

  Perry shook his head. “See if you can figure out a place for an ambush, even if it’s hopeless.”

  “All right.”

  Zeus pulled over the magnifying glass and started going over the images and maps. A buzzer sounded; Perry went to the door near the intercom.

  “Yes?” asked Perry.

  “It’s Juliet Greig. I brought you some coffee, General.”

  Perry unlocked the door from the inside. Greig was standing with a tray holding a carafe of coffee, milk, sugar, and two large white cups.

  �
��Ms. Greig, thank you very much. You know Major Murphy?”

  “I showed him in earlier.” She smiled at Zeus. “Coffee, Major?”

  “Sure.”

  Greig put the cups down at the far end of the table, then poured the coffee.

  “General, the ambassador asked me to remind you that the meeting with the premier and General Trung is a half hour from now. She wanted to make sure you had time to get ready.”

  “Yes, of course.” Perry rubbed his chin, whose stubble hadn’t been trimmed in nearly two days.

  “You want me to come, General?” asked Zeus.

  “No, I think I can handle this on my own, Zeus. Listen, it’s possible … we may…”

  His voice trailed off. Zeus guessed what he was going to say from his eyes—it was possible they were going to bug out. They didn’t want to get caught in Hanoi, which could happen if the tanks came far enough south and the offensive in the west started up again.

  “I’ll be ready,” Zeus told him.

  Perry nodded. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”

  “I’m okay.”

  The general turned to Greig. “Ms. Greig, would you do me a favor?”

  “General?”

  “See that Major Murphy gets a ride back to his hotel, would you?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll tuck him in if you want.”

  She smiled, then left. Zeus packed everything up. He was surprised to find her out in the hall when he came out.

  “All done?” she asked.

  “I didn’t realize you were waiting,” he said.

  “That’s my life. Don’t worry about it. Where’s the coffeepot?”

  “Oh, I forgot it. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry. They’ll get it later. You want me to take those?”

  She pointed at the folders with the photos and map.

  “I have to check them back in,” he said.

  “I’ll do it for you if you want.”

  “No, that’s all right.”

  She gave him another of her indulgent smiles, as if she were sharing a private joke with someone.

  “I’ll see you, Major. Unless you do want me to tuck you in.”

  “That’s all right.”

  “The offer stands,” she said before going upstairs.

  * * *

  Zeus had the driver take him to the hospital. The Vietnamese soldiers on the day shift seemed to recognize him; as he reached for his American ID, they nodded and waved him inside. No one seemed to notice him as he walked through the battered interior of the building.