by Ty Patterson
He took Josh and Cole to Vietnam.
He was careful. He remembered Chieu Ton Dang’s threat and knew the Vietnamese would be a bitter enemy.
He booked several flights as decoys and reserved hotel accommodations in several names.
He prepped the boys, told them about the history of the war, the reasons American soldiers had been there. They asked several questions, which was natural since he had never opened up about those years. They were excited as well.
He made a will and deposited it with Farrell for safekeeping. Cole Patten would inherit Chisholm if anything happened to him, and Josh Patten would get his father-in-law’s hotel chain.
Despite the estrangement, Rachel’s folks had sworn that everything they had would go to the boys. Billy had initially been thinking of dividing those assets evenly among the two. That was before Chisholm had become such a success. Now, splitting the hotel wasn’t needed.
They arrived in Ho Chi Minh City in the summer. It was hot and humid. Billy and the boys enjoyed it. He took them to the tourist spots, reveling in their enjoyment as they took in the city he had previously known as Saigon. Ben Thanh Market, City Hall, Independence Palace, the basilica, he showed them all the places.
The plan was to spend just a week and stay in the urban parts of HCMC, but temptation again got the better part of Billy.
On the penultimate day of their visit, he rented a vehicle and drove the boys out of the city, towards the river.
Towards the tunnels.
He didn’t take them to the tourist area of Cu Chi; he detoured and went deeper until the green embraced them and swallowed the sunlight.
Sounds of the city fell away as he drove carefully over nonexistent tracks.
When the vehicle could proceed no more, he jumped off and led them on a hike.
They had water cans and backpacks with food. It was a grand adventure, and he knew what the boys would see would blow their minds.
The tunnel’s opening stood in exactly the same spot he remembered. The village he had fled from all those years back was no more. The jungle had conquered the area it had occupied.
He stood in the small clearing, hands on hips, and watched his sons. They looked around, puzzled, and then Josh turned to him.
‘Dad, what’s here?’
In the distance, they could hear the muted sounds of the river.
‘Don’t you see it?’ he laughed.
They peered here and there, looked under bushes, and then gave up.
He got Josh to step back, leaned down, scraped the dirt away with his hands, and there was the trapdoor.
‘This was one of the tunnels I discovered. No one knew of it then. It wasn’t used by the Viet Cong. It was empty. It’ll give you an idea of what we did.’
Dang used it, but they don’t need to know that.
He gave them careful instructions, tied a rope around all three of them to link them together, got out flashlights from his backpack, and handed one to each of them.
He then attached a belaying rope to a tree and headed down first, Josh following, and lastly, Cole.
Billy had taken care of his body and had no flab. He could crawl through the tunnel just as he had done during the war. His sons were far smaller and could easily cope.
He pointed out the places where VC would bury traps, and he could sense their excitement.
The tunnel had started crumbling in several places, and when they reached the small room, there were mounds of dirt on the floor, fallen from the ceiling.
Cole kicked one mound, and Billy was suddenly struck by how dangerous, how foolhardy he had been.
These haven’t been maintained. They could collapse.
He let the boys explore for a while, his eyes searching for the wall with the hidden door.
He went to it, felt the wall, and found the concealed opening.
He had to strain to open the door, and more dirt fell when he wrestled with it.
It gave way suddenly, and he leaned inside.
The hiding place was empty. In place of the sacks were heaps of mud and rodent droppings.
‘I knew you couldn’t resist coming here.’
Billy froze. He knew that voice well.
He drew back and swung around. Chills raced through him when he spotted Dang.
His former partner was in a pair of khakis and a white shirt. It was muddy in places. He too had crawled through the tunnel.
His right hand held a flashlight, the other was behind his back.
‘You thought you could visit secretly and I wouldn’t know?’
Dang hadn’t changed. The same height, the same weight, the same style of glasses. A few wrinkles, but that was the only difference in his appearance. His English had improved.
The twins looked uncertainly at the stranger and then at their father. They sensed something was off.
‘Do they know this was where you betrayed me?’
This was where I stole your money. However, Billy didn’t correct him.
‘Not here, Dang.’ He moistened his lips, his heart thudding. This wasn’t in the script he had planned, in the visit he had organized. ‘We can talk in the city.’
‘No more talking, Billy.’ Dang shook his head. ‘That time has gone.’ A fire danced in his eyes, and even over the distance, his hate and rage could be sensed.
‘I have waited so long for this, Billy. I can’t hold back any longer. You are a traitor. You are a snake—’
‘Stop!’ Billy roared. His boys started. ‘I will meet you in HCMC. Anywhere you want. Let’s talk then. Not here, not in front of my boys.
‘Let’s go.’ He gestured at them and started hurrying towards the hole.
Dang sprang in front of him, and Billy saw that he was holding a Smith and Wesson in his left hand. ‘You are not going anywhere.’
‘My boys are here, Dang.’ Billy shoved him away roughly and tugged at the rope, jerking Josh and Cole forward.
‘You should have thought of that before bringing them here.’ The Vietnamese snarled as he got to his feet and blocked their way again. ‘Do they know what you did to me? Do they know how evil you are?’
‘Enough!’ Billy snapped and reached out with his free hand to push the man away. He mistimed his action, or perhaps it was Dang who moved. His gesture ended as a blow to the Vietnamese’s face.
For a second, Dang stood still, and then he growled and sprang at Billy.
The American went down as his former partner rained blows on his face and chest. Cole and Josh started yelling and screaming, the rope linking them drawing them closer to the fight.
Billy wrestled with his opponent, sweat streaming down his face. ‘Behave, Dang. Those are my boys,’ he said through gritted teeth and winced when the Vietnamese punched him in the neck.
He swore and swung back, landed a blow on the man’s temple.
Dang’s finger curled instinctively and his gun went off.
Everyone stopped. Billy snapped a look at his attacker, then at his gun, which was pointing at a wall.
Didn’t hit me. He started to relax, when the secret room collapsed.
There was no warning. No indication. It could have been because of the reverberations of firing. Or just age and nature taking their toll.
The clay walls fell in a loud slithering sound, raining dust and chunks of mud in the room.
Billy pushed Dang away roughly and got to his feet.
‘My God,’ he whispered, just as another wall fell.
‘Run!’ he told his sons.
Josh, who was in the front, whirled and raced to the tunnel. The rope around his waist dragged Cole, and then Billy.
But Dang hadn’t given up.
He caught Billy by his shoulder and pulled him back. ‘Remember what I told you, Billy?’ he hissed.
‘For Chrissakes, Dang,’ Billy yelled as the floor shook, a rumble sounded, and the wall in front of them started cracking.
‘No.’ The Vietnamese was wild in anger, beyond reasoning.
Billy punched him in the gut and reached feverishly behind him. He grabbed his backpack, brought it forward, and ripped it open even as he took stumbling steps forward.
He drew out his knife. ‘Josh,’ he shouted hoarsely, tossing it at him. ‘Cut yourself free. Then give it to Cole.’
His son was already crouching to crawl inside the exit tunnel. He stopped, turned, grabbed the blade from the floor and sawed desperately at the rope.
The ground shook and the roof started collapsing, slowly at first and then faster as the structure could no longer support it.
Mounds of earth, like rocks, fell. Some of them bounced. Loose dirt poured like rain. It looked and felt like an avalanche of clay.
‘Hurry,’ Billy urged and looked behind him. Where was Dang?
The Vietnamese was digging through the fallen wall, clawing away at it, at the rear of the room.
That’s where he came from.
Billy put him out of his mind.
‘Cole,’ Josh shouted as he freed himself and gave him the knife.
‘Go, Go,’ Billy told his younger son, snatching the knife from Cole and cutting at the rope holding the two of them.
Perspiration beaded off his nose and fell. The knife was slippery and didn’t grip well, but he persisted, nicking his fingers a few times. His elder son came closer, attempting to help, urgency flooding them.
And then the roof collapsed on top of them. An earthen rock struck Billy on the shoulder and brought him to his knees. Dust choked and blinded him. He coughed, sucking air through his mouth, taking shallow breaths—otherwise, his lungs would be filled with clay.
He lost the knife and searched blindly for it, fear flooding him.
Someone came close to him. Cole. He grabbed his son, hauled himself to his feet, and dragged them forward.
Another mountain of rock fell, blocking their way.
‘Dad,’ Josh’s voice came from afar.
‘Josh, run,’ Billy shouted as loudly as he could, knowing his voice would never be heard again.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Present Day
‘How did you get away?’ Beth was fascinated despite their predicament.
They were in a secret tunnel near Saigon River, captured by Dang and his men. Despite their circumstances, the Vietnamese’s story had them spellbound.
‘My escape route was behind that first collapse.’
‘Let me guess,’ Meghan butted in sarcastically, ‘you had that strengthened. Your tunnel didn’t collapse.’
Dang walked swiftly along the wall of the meth lab and tapped a section of the wall close to the secured entrance.
‘My escape route is behind this wall,’ he announced proudly. ‘Don’t use it anymore.’
Beth examined their surroundings carefully. ‘This isn’t concrete. It’s clay. It doesn’t look strong.’
The walls and roof were painted white to give the illusion of strength.
‘Strong enough for our work. We only store the drugs here. It’s our warehouse.’
‘You’re cooking now.’ She pointed to the equipment in the room.
‘That’s new,’ Dang admitted. ‘In any case, we don’t intend to shoot here.’ He sniggered. ‘There is a new building we are constructing in the jungle. Everything will be moved there, once it’s ready.’
‘So, it was Josh all along,’ Meghan murmured to herself, still thinking of Billy Patten’s last moments.
‘Yes.’
‘You read the news. What’s happening to Cole, no, Josh Patten, and to Chisholm. The allegations against him. The takeover attempt. You could have done something.’
‘And expose myself? I am not stupid.’
‘You could have tried other means. Sent an anonymous letter.’
‘I want nothing to do with any Patten.’ Dang compressed his lips. ‘What happens to Josh Patten is not my business.’
‘You killed his father and brother.’ Beth rounded on him.
‘I fought with him. I didn’t cause the tunnel to collapse. I didn’t invite him inside the tunnels. I would have killed Billy Patten. But not there, and not like that.’
Dang was cold, remorseless, as he stared them down.
Meghan’s skin prickled at what he left unsaid. Her heart beat faster. Adrenaline surged through her, readying for whatever was in store.
She drifted closer to one of the tables. Fingered its edge, her hand close to a chemical container.
Three men behind them. Dang and three more in front.
He didn’t bring us here just to tell stories.
‘But you,’ Dang continued without inflection, ‘you will die here. In the tunnels. Deliberately.’
She snapped her head up. ‘That would be a mistake. We’re Americans. We work for a security consulting company in New York. We have friends. The New York Police Department knows us very well. There will be investigations, relentless ones. You will be found.’
Dang’s lips twitched. ‘That’s what everyone says. All those who are about to die. You really thought I would let you go?’
He removed his spectacles, polished them and drew himself to his full height. ‘No one discovered me all these years. Even you. It was I who came to you. You would have returned to America without knowing anything about me.
‘And your being American? Your friends? The New York police?’ he sneered. ‘You know how many American tourists die in Vietnam? How many are kidnapped, raped and murdered? Your death will be an accident. Stupid tourists straying into the jungle. Falling into an undiscovered tunnel.’
His voice didn’t change, no expression crossed his face, and yet Meghan spotted the slight shift in his eyes. A signal to the men behind them.
She exploded.
Her left hand grabbed a beaker. Her right grabbed Beth and flung her to the side.
Few people could maintain a continual state of alertness. Not even trained operatives.
Dang’s story, his tour of the tunnels, had made his men relax. They had numbers on their side. They had weapons. The sisters were captives in their domain.
Yes, they were watchful, but they had lost the edge.
I hope I’m right. One second for Meghan to pivot on her left foot. In the same move, she flung the beaker at the thug in the middle. A fraction of a second to kick the hood in front of her.
A full second to follow up with a throat punch, disarm him, grab his AK, and shove him in front of her.
She fired a burst into the third man and turned.
Dang stood open-mouthed. His men caught unawares, trying to react. All of them staring in disbelief. One hood screaming, the one at whom she had hurled the chemical. Smell of burning flesh.
Beth no longer on the floor. She had scooted under the table. Was upending it. Cans and chemicals splashing to the floor. Glass all over. Fumes rising. Smell of acid.
Beth pushed the table. Turned it around. Meghan ducked under it, raised her hand and let loose a burst at Dang and his men.
They dove away to safety. Two men hauling Dang away.
Screaming, yelling, and cursing filling the air.
Less than a minute since she had first moved. Luck, and their training, giving them the upper hand.
Something smacked into the table from behind them. A knife.
She rolled on the ground, her AK coming up to cover them.
The guard she had disarmed had risen on his elbow, his hand shaking, something in it. A grenade.
‘Incoming,’ she screamed. She tossed the rifle to Beth, who fired long bursts at Dang and his men, pinning them down. The rounds didn’t seem to hit anyone, but they did what they were designed to do.
Buy them time.
Meghan kicked out with her legs. Pushed back at the table.
Swung it around by sheer momentum, grabbed her sister back. Somehow got the table roughly parallel to the wall. On its side. Its metal surface shielding them from the hoods behind them, and partly from Dang’s men.
The grenade didn’t explode. Dang was shouting.
His men started firing at the table.
‘Stop!’ Dang yelled in English. His men stopped, but it was too late.
Flames burst in the room with a whump. They started spreading across the floor, from the back to the front.
Two of Dang’s guards threw away their weapons and tried to douse the fire. They grabbed plastic cans of water and emptied them.
However, there was more flammable material than water. More chemicals caught fire and the heat started intensifying.
The hoods at the rear started screaming as their clothing caught fire.
Someone kicked at the locked door. Meghan risked another look.
Two hoods surrounded the door. The ones who had been behind them were patting at one another, trying to smother the flames. Thick smoke in the air, already smothering all of them. Every guard had flung away his AK. Survival was more important than attack.
Dang’s face was red. He babbled incomprehensibly as he stood at the wall, fingering it. The same spot he had pointed to, behind which he claimed his tunnel was.
Even as she watched, a door slid open and he started crawling out. A guard behind him.
Meghan leaped from cover, Beth following.
The two of them clubbed the hoods behind them.
The ones at the door turned. One of them dove at his weapon. Beth kicked him in the face and clobbered the other.
She attempted to kick the door down. It resisted. She pounded at the clay wall. It held firm. Her tee caught fire.
Meghan hugged her from behind and extinguished it.
They turned to the hole in the wall, through which the guard was crawling out.
They grabbed him by his feet, kicking and yelling, and knocked him out.
‘Follow me,’ Meghan ordered and ducked inside the hole.
Chapter Thirty-Six
It was small. It was claustrophobic. It was their only escape route.
Meghan scrabbled along earth, nails breaking, as she tried to move as fast as possible.
Beth was close behind, her panting audible, the two of them doubled over, almost hugging the ground.
Dang was a few feet ahead. Swearing, cursing, as he crawled fast.
