by Barry Sadler
Gilbride grinned, showing the gap between his teeth. He threw Wardell a sloppy half salute and took off on the double. The only thing he liked better than pissing the brass off was a good fight.
Captain Hardy came in with his report while the C Team was getting ready and vehicles and ammo distributed among the raiding party. The Nungs were especially pleased at the prospect of action though they didn't know yet that they were going to be fighting in town. To them it didn't make any difference. Wherever the Special Forces men said they go, they went, and did what was expected of them.
Hardy handed over his list to Wardell. "Sir, we have a fix on sixteen of the names that are in town. There are three more in the outlying villages and two who are members of the ARVIN company attached to MACV."
Wardell adjusted the straps on his shoulder harness and grunted. "That's better than I expected." To Gomëz he snapped, "You think there's any sense in taking prisoners? If I'm not mistaken this damned thing is probably set up in cells where no one knows who the others are."
Gomez looked at Casey before answering. "I wouldn't go through any great deal of trouble to take any alive. If it's possible to do it without any of your people getting hurt then there might be a bonus there somewhere."
Wardell sucked in his gut, psyching himself up for the job. "That's the way it goes down then. Not having to take 'em alive makes things a lot easier."
In the compound the Nungs were in ranks ready to load. The Special Forces men stood with them. No trace of sleep in their eyes, they had the look of hunters who were just a bit hungry.
Wardell climbed in the shotgun seat of a weapons carrier as he gave his orders to his men. He divided them up into flying teams, each with a list of names and addresses supplied by Captain Hardy who was thoroughly pissed that he was to be left behind.
Before he moved out Wardell thought of something and called Gomez back over to him. "Want to do me a favor son? Those two agents in the ARVIN are assigned to the detachment at your camp. What say you run over there and snuff them for us. It'd be a lot easier than me sending some of my men roaring up there like a bunch of outlaws. This way your boss can get some credit too and not feel left out."
Gomez was pleased that he was finally going to get to do something positive. "It will be a pleasure, sir."
Wardell grunted an acknowledgment, raised his hands in a circling motion over his head and pointed to the gate. "Open that son of a bitch up and let’s get to it!"
The small convoy moved out. As soon as they hit the first intersection jeeps and trucks began to split up heading for their target areas.
Hardy cursed after them and went back to the HQ. He had to make a couple of calls before the shit hit the fan. He had to let the South Vietnamese police and military know that it was going to get noisy in town tonight and it would be best if they stayed in their barracks and guard posts. Anyone on the streets of Song Be tonight would be considered fair game.
At first Gomez had felt a bit insulted that Wardell hadn't even asked them if they wanted to go along for the ride. It didn't bother Casey or Van. They knew the Special Forces men would do the job right and didn't need their help now that they had the names and numbers. Casey knew what was bugging Gomez. The captain felt that he was superfluous and hadn't contributed his fair share to their mission. Casey whispered to Van and Phang who nodded their heads in agreement and then nudged Gomez. "Captain, what the hell are we standing around here for. There're two agents right in your own back yard waiting for you. And they're all yours. We'll just lay back while you do the deed."
Gomez yelped out, "Then let's get to it. But how are we going to get the ARVINs to tell us where they're located?"
Casey climbed in the shotgun seat of the jeep as Gomez kicked over the motor. "We'll figure that out on the way."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
On the way back to MACV, Phang asked about his men at the welding shop.
"Let's just leave them there for now. I don't want Troung's body moved. I think we may have a use for it later."
When they were checked and readmitted to the MACV compound Gomez asked him, "Well, have you come up with a way to get them?"
Casey smiled. "Let's use the system. You call the ARVIN Commander and tell him there is an operation coming down and you want a couple of his people to assist us in planning. Just give him their names and say that you need them because of where they are from. That should be enough."
Gomez nodded; that was simple enough. If the agents were told they were needed to help in an operation, they would probably double-time over to his office to find out what it was about.
He pulled into his parking spot and led the way inside. The OD was a lieutenant who had been in the country only a couple of weeks.
"Lt. Jansen, get the ARVIN commander on the line for me. Once you've done that you are relieved of duty and are to return to your quarters. I'll take over for you here."
Jansen did as he was ordered though he wondered why Gomez had such a disreputable looking group with him. After making the call and patching it through to Gomez's office he exited the scene with a feeling that he was doing the right thing. There was an aura about those men that he didn't like and he was glad that Gomez had told him to get his ass out of the way.
After he put the phone back on its receiver his hands were shaking a bit. "The ARVIN Commander said he'll have them sent right over. I promised to fill him in on the details of the new operation in the morning, that right now we were just in a state of preplanning."
Gomez was becoming a bit more nervous. His hands began to sweat as they waited. He checked his pistol making certain the safety was off and there was a round in the chamber. He did this three times before Casey told him, "Just relax, Captain. This is your chance to question them. When they come in just lay your piece on them. Phang and I will shake them down and then they're all yours. Just don't get excited. I know this is different from being in the field but it'll work out all right."
Neither of the two ARVIN soldiers knew that the other one was also a member of the Ke' sat Nhan. All they knew was that one Ngu Huang had been pulled off of guard duty and the other Bo Chui Than was taken from his bunk and both ordered to report to the American Headquarters at MACV. They would have been a bit suspicious if they had been searched, forced to give up their weapons and delivered with an escort. As this did not occur and they had been told they were wanted only because of where they came from, and that the Americans only wished some information about their home villages, they had no inkling of what was about to take place.
Casey was waiting in the outer offices when they made their appearance. He was casual as he indicated they were to leave their arms in a rack set there for that purpose. They did and were hustled into Gomez's office where they reported.
It was the sight of Phang combined with Casey that brought a rush of memory to Bo Than. He had been briefed earlier on his targets and his alternates. One of his targets was an American sergeant with a scar on his face. He had also been told of the attack on their base camp by the Kamserai tribesmen. From the looks on everyone's faces he knew something was definitely wrong. Without hesitation he drew his bayonet and lunged at the Sergeant. Casey had moved to block the thrust of the blade, when a sudden ear deafening double blast blew Bo Than sideways across the room. Both of the heavy grained slugs from Gomez's forty-five auto had hit the Viet in the rib cage, blasting holes in him large enough to stick a grown man's fist through.
Things had happened too fast for Ngu to make any response. When Bo Than had moved so did Phang who now had his own knife pointed under Ngu's left ear. Van searched him while Casey checked over the other one's body. Neither one had anything on them that could be of use. No papers, no other weapons.
Ngu was placed in one of the metal backed gray chairs and tied down with some riser cord found in one of the desks in the outer offices.
Ngu understood quite clearly his options. He was to tell all that he knew which wasn't very much. He had only the two name
s of the men that were in his cell. He also knew that he was a dead man even if he did talk. He would never be made into a Kit Carson, one of those former VC who had turned coats and chosen to work for the Americans in exchange for amnesty and money.
Gomez was just getting settled back to begin his interrogation when Ngu made his decision. None of the men in the room had any idea what he was doing till they saw his face start to turn black and his eyes roll up in the back of his head.
Casey grabbed him by the face and forced his mouth open. A gout of bright red blood gushed forth spewing across the room and covering Casey's hands. "Goddamn it! The son of a bitch has bitten his tongue off and swallowed it!" He tried to force his fingers in far enough to remove the hunk of severed tongue but it was too slippery from the blood for him to get a grip on it.
Ngu went into spasms. His bladder and bowels released themselves. Casey took Phang's knife from him to try and open an airway in his esophagus but it was too late. Ngu shivered then quit moving. Casey didn't know if he had died of suffocation or had drowned in his own blood. It didn't make any difference. The man was dead and would tell them nothing. Still the night hadn't been a complete loss. They had taken out two of Comrade Ho's assassins and knew that right now Wardell and his men were out removing more of them from this vale of tears.
It was a miniature `Night of the Long Knives.' All through the city doors were kicked open and men hauled from their beds to be shot or bayoneted. Radio communication kept Wardell informed of the progress of his operation. There had been a couple of Ke sat Nhan who had managed to get hold of weapons before being taken out. Two of his SFers had been hit but it was nothing serious and three Nungs got nailed, two of whom had died. Of those who had been able to get their hands on weapons and resist, three had committed suicide when they realized there was no escape.
The South Vietnamese police and military did as they had been requested. They stayed at their posts and brought in any roving patrols. The sounds of gunfire throughout the city lasted till nearly dawn when peace came with the rising sun.
While they waited, Casey and his men went over the maps of the region around Kompot. Phang pointed out the exact location of his village. Oddly enough, it was less than five kilometers from Ho. Casey pointed to a spot on the map and asked Phang about it. The Kamserai chieftain had nothing good to say about the place. Casey recalled a similar place in World War Two into which the British had forced a Japanese unit to enter. It sounded like just what he needed. They went over the plan until the phone rang.
It was a tired, but satisfied lieutenant colonel that called Gomez on the phone from the C Team HQ.
"Captain Gomez, this is Wardell. Just wanted to call and fill you in. We got all of them but two who weren't where they were supposed to be, but we have a lead on them and will get them later. How did you do?" He paused, then grinned into the receiver of the phone. "Well then, that's good. Bit his own tongue off eh? Sounds like someone I'd like to have on my side. Anything else me and my boys can do for you? We owe you one and like to pay our debts."
There was muted conference on Gomez's side of the phone before Wardell cleared his throat and spoke again. "All right! If that's what you want then that's what you'll get. Have your people at our chopper pad at 0700 hours and we'll get on with it."
Gomez leaned back in his chair; he felt good. At last he had tasted a bit of action and didn't feel so left out anymore. "Colonel Wardell says it's a go and for you to be at his chopper pad at 0700 hours. He looked at his watch. You've got less than an hour so take my jeep—and good hunting. I'll take care of Tomlin. All I have to do is say that these two were the ones assigned to kill him and he won't worry about anything else." Gomez looked at the faces of the three men and shook his head. "Gods, this is madness. But this is one time I won't feel bad about being left behind. I don't think you have a snowball chance in hell of pulling it off, but then you're the experts. Good luck!"
They made a quick detour back to the welding shop before heading over to the SF compound. They took with them Phang's Kamserai and an oddly bulging duffle bag.
Wardell was waiting for them when they arrived. He knew from the shape of it what was in the bag but didn't ask what it was for. There were some things it was better not to question. The Huey was already throbbing and vibrating as if eager to get in the air and deliver its cargo and get back to a more understandable kind of war.
The chopper took off with its odd cargo heading east and then south across the border back to Cambodia. The pilot looked with distaste at the duffle bag, but like Wardell thought it best not to ask any questions. What you didn't know, you couldn't talk about, and he was sure this was one flight he would probably want to forget as soon as possible.
First they went to the spot on the map that Phang had told Casey of. The pilot set down in a clearing and kept the motor idling as Casey and Van moved out to get a look at the terrain. Phang wouldn't go in. He and his men set up lookouts till Casey and Van returned. It took them about an hour before they came back, muddy and tired. Casey nodded his head in agreement. "You weren't bullshitting Phang. We saw them and they're everything you said they were."
Van merely had a look of awe on his face as he tried to imagine the consequences of his friend's proposed action. It was terrifying.
Casey had the pilot fly them around checking reference points on his maps as Phang pointed out landmarks. At last Casey told him to take the Kamserai chieftain and his men home.
Phang unloaded leaving the duffle bag behind. Casey wasn't through with it yet. Casey made the pilot wait on the deck a few more minutes until Phang returned and handed him two leather water bags connected at the spouts to each other by a broad strap, which Casey hung around his neck.
"I will be waiting by the clearing I showed you. Good hunting my friends."
The pilot was getting the jitters. He felt a great sense of relief when Casey told him: "Just one more little flyover and then you can set us down where we get off and you can go home."
The pilot bobbed his head in agreement. "That sounds good to me. I don't know and don't want to know what the hell you people are up to but I don't like it. I'm just a taxi driver and that's all I want to be. The sooner you get out of this machine the better I'll feel."
Casey gave him his heading and they headed off over the tree tops at about five thousand feet. The flight took less than fifteen minutes before Van pointed out his side of the chopper and yelled: "I think that's it!"
Casey leaned out to get a look. Van was right. Ho's new base camp was coming up fast. He told the pilot to circle it staying high. Even from their altitude he could see a thatch-roofed building where a VC flag flew from a bamboo pole. That had to be it. Casey noticed that Comrade Ho had changed his living style. He didn't seem to like being underground anymore. Casey opened the duffle bag, took out his bayonet, reached inside the bag with it and began to cut.
Colonel Ho heard the chopper and rushed out of his thatch roofed building to get a look. It was flying high. He told his men not to fire. There was something strange about it. The chopper was not making an assault pass; it was just doing a long lazy orbit. What was that? Ho shaded his eyes to see better. The chopper was right over him and something was falling from it. Something small. Was it some kind of new bomb? With a cry of alarm he threw his body into a nearby slit trench and covered up his head. He heard a dull thump as the object hit the ground. Nothing more happened. Cautiously he raised his head to get a look.
The object was less than five feet away from his face. His bowels turned to ice water. It was a human hand. He knew who it had belonged to and who it had to be in the helicopter that dropped it.
That madman with the scarred face was still with him. Troung had failed in his mission and now the thing was here to haunt him, flying over him like a bad spirit. If he would come down to the earth and fight, then he, Colonel Ho van Tuyen, would end it right now. What was this? The chopper was coming down lower, heading for a clearing a few hundred meters to the
south of his camp. Would the madman dare... ?
Ho ran to the south calling his men to come with him.
They had just reached the edge of the clearing when they saw Casey standing alone in the field, a bag at his feet. Curiously, the helicopter had taken off and left the American there alone. Why?
To Ho it made no difference anymore. He could see the object of his hate standing there, mocking him. With a cry he ordered his men, all good soldiers from the crack 213th PAVN, to get him. As they rushed across the field, Casey turned and ran toward the south.
When the chopper had set it down it had first made a low pass near a line of trees at the far side of the clearing and Van had jumped out. He was now watching Ho as he went after Casey. To him it was like sending a pack of rabbits to chase a tiger. He almost felt sorry for the rabbits.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ho stopped at the duffle bag. He knew what was inside of it. Still, he had to see it. He ordered one of his men to take out the body. It was one thing to see a detached hand lying in the dust, but to see his former aide lying there with both of them removed at the wrist, the face blistered and distorted, made him cry out in rage and frustration, the likes of which Ho had never known before.
"I will have him." To his men he said, "Bring two companies from the camp. Take nothing but weapons. I will follow that dog into the bowels of hell itself, but I must have him!"
Ho's men looked at him with confusion and fear on their faces. What was this devil riding him? There had been stories told by those that had served him before of his vendetta against one American sergeant. The man who brought the bag with the body of Captain Troung; it must be him.
Ho's company commanders did not mind too much that he was ordering two hundred and forty men to chase after one. In the last few weeks there had been little action for them because they had been refitting and retraining. This would provide a pleasant break in their routine. A hunt was always welcome and it would do their new men good to get out and taste blood. Yes, the chase could be very good for morale.
