The Gypsy Queen: A Matt Preston Novel (Matt Preston Series Book 3)
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The idea was for us to babysit a radio specialist who was going out along various trails our intelligence people knew were being used by the NVA and the VC. We were to protect this radio spook while he climbed up in the trees and attached microphones to them. Even as I recall this mission, I still think it was the goofiest idea I’d ever heard.
The microphones they wanted placed out in the jungle were high definition, multi-directional radio mikes which had thirty to fifty feet of cord and a few very sturdy alligator clamps built in for attaching them to tree limbs or branches. The mikes fed into a “bell hop” type radio, which automatically transmitted whatever signal was received by the microphone.
There were ten different frequencies the radio could broadcast on and different frequencies would be selected for that specific placement spot. One of our jobs, besides protecting the specialist, was to make sure those above our pay grade who were watching over what we were doing knew the location of each mike we placed so their transmission could be matched up to the proper location on a grid. The transmissions were sent to some place in South Viet Nam, and we were informed in no uncertain terms the location was none of our business. We just assumed any info the microphones got would be listened to by interpreters and that the intel would be passed on up the food chain.
I thought the whole thing was the most stupid thing I had ever heard, but I also knew better than to spout off if I didn’t want to end up pulling perimeter guard duty for the rest of my tour. I’ll admit that we never actually knew what was learned from our operation. It really isn’t fair to knock something I knew so little about.
Walter and I had found out firsthand, having watched an amazing array of supplies being packed in by men and women on NVA and VC backs, it did make sense to try and gather any intel possible. Because of that supply line, any info regarding destinations of the supply patrol, or the contents of what was being carried by the patrol, or listening for information was of great value.
Once on one of our other missions, Walter and I got stuck for a couple of days out in the toolies as the trail we happened to be on turned out to be the enemy’s freeway of the moment. While we remained hidden, we were amazed at the amount of goods we watched being packed down south. Any info regarding as to what was being packed, how much of it was being carried and perhaps the final destination was worth the risk of being out in the jungle hanging microphones from trees, or so we were told.
Anyway, we reported to Chu Lai which had a Navy Swift Boat attachment. When we first arrived, we were assigned to a boat that was going to take us back into the area that would be our jump-off point. Shortly before it was time for the boat to head out, we were assigned the two individuals who we had been ordered to assist. We were told one of them was a Navy Seal who was going to provide kind of backup for us, and who I thought looked really scary. The other guy was the ops cat who was going to be actually placing the microphones and making them live.
Talk about Rocky and Bullwinkle. This Navy Seal fellow looked like the missing link. He appeared just about smart enough to tie his own shoes if he was wearing loafers. I know I’m not fair and that being a Seal is a big deal. But my point is this guy was a lot of muscle and his face had simian features that tended to make him look not as intelligent as he might have been. The fellow was three inches taller than me and I’m almost six four.
His body was all muscle and his gunboat arms were covered with tattoos and he had shaved his head bald. Somewhere back in time his head had been grazed by a bullet, and now he had a white scar about three quarters of an inch wide that went down the top of his skull just a little to the left of center. His whole head was deeply tanned, but the scar was lily white. It really made for a very strange sight. Think skunk with a monkey face and you’re getting close.
The other thing that stood out about him was the way he moved. I’ve never in my life seen anybody who could move as silently, or as quickly as Bullwinkle. No matter what the surface, or what he was wearing for foot covering, he didn’t make a sound when he moved. It was rather eerie. For a person his size to move with such agility and speed was truly impressive and just a little frightening.
The other fellow Walter and I named Rocky. He was a little bitty guy and if this cat was over five four I’ll eat my jockstrap. I know the military has restrictions regarding how tall, and how short a person can be and he must have just passed by an eighth of an inch. He was as skinny as a beanpole, and both Walter and I doubted if this ops guy could make it to the first target site, let alone do the entire mission. Man, were we wrong.
The larger fellow wanted to carry everything and the little guy didn’t want to let one transistor out of his sight. They started to quibble like little kids and the two of us had to break it up. When Walter and I got the orders to escort this radio ops dude, we weren’t told we were also going to have to referee these two. Walter even made a crack to them he wasn’t paid enough to be running a daycare center. Since I didn’t want to rock the boat, and we were told the one big dude was going to be both our guide and our protection while the other one was out placing the mikes up in the trees, I thought it best to keep any and all opinions to myself.
I remember Walter and I looking at each other and I could tell he was wondering the same as me, was this the mission from which we didn’t return. The little guy had been issued ten of these special microphones along with small transmitters attached to them. This little dude had been instructed how to put the mikes in the proper place for best eavesdropping.
I was the one who started calling the two Rocky and Bullwinkle. There were a lot of strange things about Bullwinkle, but perhaps the scariest thing was that when the four of us would all be walking along and without saying a word, Bullwinkle would disappear. I mean one second he was there and then poof, he was like gone! No goodbye. No, I’ll be back. Just poof! The only thing missing was the cloud of smoke.
At first we were a little concerned since Rocky had relented and had allowed Bullwinkle to pack the radios, but neither of us were about to say a word to him about his frequent absences. He would be gone for an hour or two and then just as silently as he left, show back up. Bullwinkle never explained where he had been, or what he was doing. Walter and I didn’t feel very comfortable with the two of them to begin with, so we held all our conversations to a minimum.
Bullwinkle was a bull. When he took the point position, his massive arms could swing a machete all day without showing any signs of tiring. The transmitter packages were heavy and he insisted on carrying all of them. After a lot of bickering between the two of them, Rocky carried half and Bullwinkle carried the other half. Bullwinkle never seemed to grow tired and if Walter or I wanted a break we had to call for one. Rocky was absolutely freaky. He could carry his half of the radio packages in addition to his gear and a weapon and was constantly urging us to go faster. Bullwinkle told Rocky he didn’t need to carry heat since Bullwinkle was there to protect him and that comment was met with a swift and final, “Fuck you!” Rocky carried a weapon.
Per our maps, by the end of the third day we were in position to start placing the microphones. I knew once more we were in an area where we were not supposed to be and if we got caught we would be on our own. Evidently somebody up the line thought this microphone idea was wonderful and it didn’t matter we were way inside of an area that was supposed to be totally off limits.
Rocky broke out one of the radio units he was packing while Walter and I fanned out to keep watch for any stray VC. Rocky finally found a tree situated exactly the way he wanted and as he climbed the tree Walter and I stood and watched in amazement.
At first, the wires kept getting tangled in the branches and the sweltering heat and the frustration of trying to move up through the trees seemed to puzzle Rocky until he finally reached the top. He eventually found a good place to tie off the mike so it was hanging down the way he wanted. When he got back to the ground we were all satisfied with Rocky’s e
fforts since nothing was visible from the ground.
We marched for a few minutes until we were far enough away and turned on our receiver to the proper channel and to our delight we found the mike working properly. We sent in the proper code to indicate the first mike was live, where it was located, and we headed off to place another one. By the second tree Rocky seemed to have worked out a better plan for climbing with his apparatus and he was amazing. This little guy climbed better than a monkey. I remember Walter looking over at me and exclaiming, “That little SOB is like an acrobat in that tree. Look at him swinging from limb to limb like a fuckin’ orangutan!” I had to laugh since he really did look like a monkey swinging around and moving up there in the trees.
It took four days to find good places for all of the units and Rocky had just set the last one up when our luck ran out.
Rocky was coming down out of the trees when we all heard voices coming down the trail. The deal with Rocky was if anybody came along, he was to climb back up into the foliage and hide while the rest of us were on our own. Walter and I slipped back into the jungle and then hid the best we could. From my position, I couldn’t see anything until I looked up through some foliage and then I could see several little men in their pointy hats and black pajamas. A group of VC was passing by directly below Rocky. Every one of them was carrying several weapons as well as what looked like very heavy packs. Since I could only see what was directly in front of me I had no way of knowing how many of them were in their convoy.
I have no idea how long we all stayed hidden while Rocky stayed up in the tree. It seemed like days but I’m sure it wasn’t more than half an hour. Finally, we couldn’t hear any talking and we decided to come out of our hiding places and look. Once Rocky was on the ground we were wondering what had happened to Bullwinkle. Just as we were about to start heading back to base and hoping Bullwinkle would figure out what we were doing, two Cong stepped out of the bushes with their weapons trained on the three of us. They motioned for us to put our hands on the tops of our heads and we complied.
As we stood there waiting for the Cong to decide what to do with us, I saw Bullwinkle materialize as if out of thin air behind one of the little dudes. Without any warning, he reached around the little man and pulled a knife across his throat and then snapped his neck. Blood gushed out and the Cong dropped like a sack of sand to the ground. Before the other VC could react, Bullwinkle had disappeared again. The Cong leveled his weapon and on full automatic, sprayed the surrounding foliage where he thought Bullwinkle had disappeared. Finally, the man stopped firing and turned his weapon to us. Bringing his rifle up to his shoulder, he pointed it at Rocky.
“Stop!” Walter called out in Vietnamese. I knew Walter had some training in the language, but I had no idea how well he spoke it. The little fellow lowered his rifle a bit and looked at Walter. He said something to Walter and Walter responded. As the little fellow started to speak again I watched Bullwinkle do his amazing appearing act and then slit this Cong’s throat.
Bullwinkle knelt by the bodies and pushed both of them over on their backs. We watched as he started to pat them down and then I saw him remove something from each of them and slip it into his pocket. Eventually he stood and looked at the three of us. “Let’s go!” he commanded. We obeyed.
For the rest of the day we were doing a forced march, hiking out of there as fast as we could. We reached a place where Bullwinkle said he wanted to spend the night and each of us found a place to sleep. Before I knew it, the sun was shining through the trees. I looked around and Bullwinkle and Rocky were gone. Walter was also waking up and when he noticed that they were missing he asked me if I knew what happened. I shook my head. Since we both knew where we were going, we decided to head out and if they caught up with us, fine. If they didn’t, then they would have to get back on their own.
Walter and I got back to base and the two of us were separated and then debriefed. Nobody seemed the least bit bothered by the fact that Bullwinkle and Rocky didn’t come back with us. In addition, everybody seemed very excited with the placement of the mikes and that every one of them was operating properly. We never heard anything more about either one after our assignment.
I would have totally forgotten about the whole mission had it not been for Walter running into Bullwinkle while on another assignment. Walter was out in the bush when out of nowhere Bullwinkle suddenly appeared. Walter told me Bullwinkle asked if he was okay and if he needed any help. Walter told him no that no help was required. Then the two of them sat out in the jungle for about an hour and Walter told me they got into a discussion about reincarnation. Bullwinkle totally believed in it and said he believed he had been an officer in Genghis Kahn’s army at one time. Bullwinkle also told Walter he had met several space aliens out in the jungle. Walter was starting to wonder if maybe Bullwinkle was an alien. Just as suddenly as Bullwinkle had appeared, he stood and told Walter he would see him around and then stepped into the surrounding foliage and disappeared.
Later that day as Walter was going down a kind of a trail he came across four NVA lying there who all had their heads removed and placed on their chests. Walter said he was positive it had been Bullwinkle’s doing.
From all the things I learned about Bullwinkle during our time together, I didn’t doubt Walter’s opinion for a moment.
But this was a long way, and a long time from Viet Nam. What was Bullwinkle doing sitting in a Seattle Starbucks?
CHAPTER FIVE
I sat there speechless, stunned, frozen in place.
When I tried to take a sip of my drink I noticed my hand was no longer as stable as I would have liked. I hated to admit it, but seeing Bullwinkle rocked me a lot more than I would have thought. When we parted company back in the jungle so many years ago, I never thought I’d see him again in this lifetime. Please don’t think ill of me, but I honestly never thought he would make it out of Nam alive. Obviously, I was wrong.
I picked up a newspaper lying on the chair at my table and tried to hunker down behind it. I tried to pay closer attention to the two men sitting with Bullwinkle. I noticed both were wearing suits and looked well dressed. Bullwinkle was wearing a clean white T-shirt with a military looking bush jacket over it, and his pants were the cargo style with lots of pockets that are so popular today. I thought Bullwinkle still looked fit, and his head was just as tanned as the day I had met him. The scar was as noticeable as it always had been.
It appeared the three men were engaged in some sort of a disagreement. Bullwinkle kept shaking his head in a negative fashion and I saw his lips form the word “No” several times. The two men in suits were leaning slightly in an aggressive posture towards Bullwinkle and it appeared they were pressing him about something. Suddenly, Bullwinkle stood up and glared down at the two men. One of the men reached up as if to pull him back down and Bullwinkle brushed his hand away. There was enough commotion so that people sitting at the surrounding tables started to look at them. The one who tried to grab at Bullwinkle’s sleeve tried again as he was saying something. I couldn’t hear his words, but as Bullwinkle yanked his arm free, he leaned forward and I could read his lips. “Leave me alone! Fuck you!” Bullwinkle snarled.
Bullwinkle turned around and started to head for the door. As he passed by my table, he looked directly at me and we made eye contact. I had to give him credit for his nerve, when our eyes connected he never slowed his stride, but I did notice his eyes grow wide and he scowled down at me. I had no idea what was going on, but it was obvious to me he was not happy to see me siting at a Starbucks table in North Seattle.
I started to collect my things to leave and the two men in suits passed me by. The first person was a total stranger, but the second one I knew. This man was also from my past. This was a man that could still put fear in my heart. This was a man about whom I had nightmares to this day. I wondered what was going on. Was this old home week or something? First Bullwinkle and now this person.
While time had been kind to Bullwinkle, Davidson had not been so lucky. To be blunt, he looked old. His suit looked expensive, but now it just hung on his frame and his face was drawn. His color was a pasty white and what was left of his hair was thin and wispy.
Our eyes also locked as he passed and I watched him turn even paler than he had been before. Davidson stumbled a step and fell against the man in front of him. I didn’t know what was going on, but for some reason, Davidson seeing me sitting in a coffee shop in North Seattle scared the hell out of him. And that in turn frightened me! Why? Because the David Davidson I knew back in Viet Nam didn’t scare, he was the one who did the scaring. He was the one who told Walter and me if he saw us again we were dead and I’d believed him.
I couldn’t help it, I wondered what was going on. First Bullwinkle and now Davidson. And the scariest part was the face I had just seen walking past. I had just seen a sick looking and a very frightened Davy boy walk by. What was that all about?