the
contingency."
"That won't be
necessary."
"You speak
Vietnamese then," said the general, looking surprised.
I shook my head no.
"I'll find out what I want to know from him anyway. It doesn't matter if I can't understand his
language. What's important is that I understand his dreams."
The general
contained his fury but it was an effort.
Through clenched
teeth, he said, "I have been instructed to make a chopper and crew available to you with
unrestricted flight plans. I have also been instructed to provide you with anything, in the way
of hardware, ordnance or men, to accomplish your mission."
"I have what I
need. UnhandcufF the prisoner and we'll be off."
"Would it be out of
line to ask where the hell you intend to go?"
"Probably not, but
I don't know where we're going, so I can't tell you."
The general looked
troubled. "Is it true, the rumors, what they say about you?"
I smiled. "I don't
know what you're talking about, sir." I gave him a sloppily executed salute, my hand coming off my nose like an inept karate
chop.
That seemed to be
the final straw for the general. He barked commands at the guards, who unhandcuffed the prisoner
and helped him up into the bay door of the chopper.
The general spun on
his heel and marched stiffly off like a man going to his own execution.
Howton shook his
head. "Bloody m. f-ing Christ! I don't know what you're up to, Chief, but anyone who can twist
the Old Man's mammaries in the wringer has sure got my vote."
Doctor Death
regarded the prisoner balefully. "Hey, do I got to baby-sit and protect our ass, too?"
Howton turned to
me. "He ought to be tied up. You can't trust the bastards any farther than you can . .
."
"No need." I smiled
at the prisoner. He seemed relaxed and cheerful. Undoubtedly, he already sensed that I would be
setting him free. I send a lot when I begin receiving.
"He'll be OK. Give
him a cigarette, if you have any," I said into the headset.
Doctor Death looked
disgusted at the idea of sharing with the prisoner. "Man, I got bullets extra I could spare, but
smokes, you must be funning!"
"Where to?" asked
Howton, cranking the chopper up for flight.
"North, I think.
For a while anyway. I'll tell you when to change direction as soon as I know."
"Are we heading for
some real deep stuff? I mean, give me some kind of idea what to expect. North to what, over
what?"
"Don't expect
anything," I said. "That's probably the best way. I'd like to fly slow and fairly low. We'll be
in the mountains mostly, is my best guess."
"Guess!" Howton
lifted us off. "It don't sound like you know what the hell you're doing! This ain't no place to
be guessing about anything! Just thinking about it makes my BVDs want to seize up!
"You copying this,
Doctor Death?" said Howton into the headset.
"Somebody better
tell this dude that low and slow is full of lead and dead! Lordy, massa, this fool Indian keep
pulling our tail with this kind of
thing, I am going to frag his act right where it live."
"He ain't happy,"
said Howton as the chopper began flying over low-lying mountain ranges. "And I ain't getting
ready to write you no love poems either. You're beginning to sound like a raffle ticket for
buying the farm."
I pointed. "Go in
that direction. Toward the highest mountain peak."
Howton looked at me
like I was crazy. The chopper responded to his touch on the controls, tilting to go in the
direction I had pointed.
"I think that
mountain is where we're going," I said, not knowing it for sure until I had said it. Once spoken,
it sounded strangely right.
From somewhere to
the left of and a little behind the chopper, anti-aircraft guns began rattling at us.
Doctor Death leaned
out the door, at the ready. He turned and looked back at us. "Unfriendlies, a day late and a
dollar short."
In front of us, a
jet dropped down at us seemingly from out of nowhere.
Howton grabbed the
controls, ready to jerk us into an evasive pattern,
contingency."
"That won't be
necessary."
"You speak
Vietnamese then," said the general, looking surprised.
I shook my head no.
"I'll find out what I want to know from him anyway. It doesn't matter if I can't understand his
language. What's important is that I understand his dreams."
The general
contained his fury but it was an effort.
Through clenched
teeth, he said, "I have been instructed to make a chopper and crew available to you with
unrestricted flight plans. I have also been instructed to provide you with anything, in the way
of hardware, ordnance or men, to accomplish your mission."
"I have what I
need. UnhandcufF the prisoner and we'll be off."
"Would it be out of
line to ask where the hell you intend to go?"
"Probably not, but
I don't know where we're going, so I can't tell you."
The general looked
troubled. "Is it true, the rumors, what they say about you?"
I smiled. "I don't
know what you're talking about, sir." I gave him a sloppily executed salute, my hand coming off my nose like an inept karate
chop.
That seemed to be
the final straw for the general. He barked commands at the guards, who unhandcuffed the prisoner
and helped him up into the bay door of the chopper.
The general spun on
his heel and marched stiffly off like a man going to his own execution.
Howton shook his
head. "Bloody m. f-ing Christ! I don't know what you're up to, Chief, but anyone who can twist
the Old Man's mammaries in the wringer has sure got my vote."
Doctor Death
regarded the prisoner balefully. "Hey, do I got to baby-sit and protect our ass, too?"
Howton turned to
me. "He ought to be tied up. You can't trust the bastards any farther than you can . .
."
"No need." I smiled
at the prisoner. He seemed relaxed and cheerful. Undoubtedly, he already sensed that I would be
setting him free. I send a lot when I begin receiving.
"He'll be OK. Give
him a cigarette, if you have any," I said into the headset.
Doctor Death looked
disgusted at the idea of sharing with the prisoner. "Man, I got bullets extra I could spare, but
smokes, you must be funning!"
"Where to?" asked
Howton, cranking the chopper up for flight.
"North, I think.
For a while anyway. I'll tell you when to change direction as soon as I know."
"Are we heading for
some real deep stuff? I mean, give me some kind of idea what to expect. North to what, over
what?"
"Don't expect
anything," I said. "That's probably the best way. I'd like to fly slow and fairly low. We'll be
in the mountains mostly, is my best guess."
"Guess!" Howton
lifted us off. "It don't sound like you know what the hell you're doing! This ain't no place to
be guessing about anything! Just thinking about it makes my BVDs want to seize up!
"You copying this,
Doctor Death?" said Howton into the headset.
"Somebody better
tell this dude that low and slow is full of lead and dead! Lordy, massa, this fool Indian keep
pulling our tail with this kind of
thing, I am going to frag his act right where it live."
"He ain't happy,"
said Howton as the chopper began flying over low-lying mountain ranges. "And I ain't getting
ready to write you no love poems either. You're beginning to sound like a raffle ticket for
buying the farm."
I pointed. "Go in
that direction. Toward the highest mountain peak."
Howton looked at me
like I was crazy. The chopper responded to his touch on the controls, tilting to go in the
direction I had pointed.
"I think that
mountain is where we're going," I said, not knowing it for sure until I had said it. Once spoken,
it sounded strangely right.
From somewhere to
the left of and a little behind the chopper, anti-aircraft guns began rattling at us.
Doctor Death leaned
out the door, at the ready. He turned and looked back at us. "Unfriendlies, a day late and a
dollar short."
In front of us, a
jet dropped down at us seemingly from out of nowhere.
Howton grabbed the
controls, ready to jerk us into an evasive pattern,
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