THERE BE DRAGONS (24 page)

Lynch closed his eyes for a brief second and nodded an acceptance once they opened again.

“You are right, Jacobs. You are sorry, a very sorry individual. Your wife wishes a divorce, yes?” asked Dragon Master.

“How did you …” Jacobs couldn’t finish his sentence. Confusion swallowed up the words that remained.

Dragon Master shot Lynch in the head with his pistol. The bullet sailed through the back of his skull and out of his forehead.

The projectile hit Jacobs in his left shoulder. The front legs of his chair rose from the impact to his body. When they touched back down, they creaked.

Blood from Lynch had spattered onto Jacobs’s face. Red freckled the lids of his eyes. Tears clung to the lashes.

“I know everything about you,” said Dragon Master. “I have known your name from the beginning of our conversations.”

“How?” Jacobs opened his eyes but did not look at Lynch’s lifeless body. He looked at his executioner; at his side now stood NVA Torturer, holding the bloodied pliers.

“It does not matter how. It matters that we do,” Dragon Master said. He then removed a picture from his chest pocket. He stuck it to the blood on Lynch’s forehead. It stayed in place, at a Dutch angle.

The subject of the Polaroid’s capture faced Jacobs. He looked at it. He had too, but didn’t want to. He still had the blur around the edge of his vision but it was clear whom the still frame was of.

It was Samantha.

She held the hand of another man. They were walking down a street. The was the same street in Jacobs’s hometown that the candy store sat on, the store his grandparents had taken him to when he was a small boy. More tears rolled down his cheeks.

“We killed her yesterday,” said Dragon Master. “Both her and the man you see her with. Their blood became one pool on the bed they had made love in. I hope the ring you gave her turned her finger green.”

“No … no! Y … y … you didn’t hurt her!” Jacobs choked on the words he yelled.

“I see you still feel love for Samantha. Even though your heart must have broken from seeing her image, her likeness holding hands with your oldest friend.”

“You didn’t kill her!”

“Denying the truth, Mr. Jacobs, does not make it a lie,” said Dragon Master.

“Why do this to me?” pleaded Jacobs.

“If one of my dragons brought you here, brought you to us, you must have been on a mission to kill my pets, to destroy this base. I do not like that. We have … I have worked far too hard and long, in this awful, shitty, hot country for that to happen.” Dragon Master made a fist with his free hand as he spoke the last words.

“That is not true,” started Jacobs, “I’m just the LT of a regular platoon of grunts. We had orders to search a village. That’s what we were doing when the dragons attacked us. I don’t even know where I am.”

“No,” Dragon Master’s fist shook. “What you speak is false. You lie.”

“Denying the truth does not make it a lie,” said Jacobs with a smile.

The anger boiled over in an instant. Dragon master put his pistol back in its holster and took ahold of the pliers from NVA Torturer. He charged at Jacobs and grabbed the thumb on his left hand. He forced it into the plier’s teeth and tore the thumb off.

Jacobs screamed in agony.

“Put him back in the cage,” ordered Dragon Master.

• • • • •

It was the dead of night when the team led by Stephens and Moore crawled through leaves and ferns towards the moonlight, towards the ravine and the enemy base.

They came to a stop at a safe distance and Stephens removed his Starlite. He placed it to an eye. He allowed time for his vision to adjust to the green, then took in the view of the base.

Around the camp’s perimeter sat three guard towers. They appeared to have been arranged to take advantage of the tall trees that grew around the base. The upper branches helped to camouflage the sentinel boxes and the trunks of the trees helped with supporting the structures.

Barbed wire was strung along wooden posts that formed a square to enclose the compound. Behind this was more barbed wire, this time just unrolled. It looked like a slinky-toy zigzagged in random patterns.

The entrance to the base was a large wooden gate, with a sentry box to its left. Through the gate sat three wooden barracks arranged in a U-shape.

Not far from these were a bamboo hut and a bamboo bridge that went over water. The water ran through the base and into a tree line towards its rear.

At each side of the camp were forested cliffs, and built into one of these cliffs was a concrete bunker.

“That looks conspicuous,” Stephens said quietly.

“That’s the building that holds the detonator to blow the base,” whispered Moore.

Stephens signaled for the men to move back into thicker growth.

The team crawled into the darkness and trees.

• • • • •

They all knelt down and kept their voices to a whisper.

“Okay,” began Stephens, “here’s the plan. Jackson, you’re gonna position yourself with a clear line of fire at the main entrance to the camp. No matter which route we take to hightail it outta there, you can bet we’ll have commies chasing us, and they’ll come running through that gate. Your job is … well, it’s self-explanatory.”

“Sure is,” said Jackson.

“I’ll take out the guys in the guard towers,” said Stephens.

“How do you plan to do that, Sarge?” asked Teacher.

“Silently and at a distance.”

“I don’t get it.”

“There ain’t much you do get, Teacher.” Stephens tapped a finger on the quiver tied to his leg.

“I’m gonna make use of this.”

“I still …”

“It’s a bow and arrows,” Stephens said.

“It looks kinda small.”

“It doesn’t stay that size. Some assembly is required. In fact, Moore, put this together for me.” Stephens removed the quiver from his leg and gave it the agent.

Moore started to fasten the bow together. Teacher watched with a curious expression.

“We cut our way through the barbed wire,” Stephens went on, “me and Moore head towards the bunker at the rear. The barracks are for you guys.” He pointed at Cage, Diaz, and Teacher. “Three barracks, three soldiers, one to each. Kill every man in them. Silently. Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” answered Cage.

“Sure can, Sarge,” said Teacher.

“Diaz?” asked Stephens.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“And me?” asked Buttons.

“The hut. It will house their radio. Kill it. Kill anyone in the hut too.”

Buttons nodded.

“The signal to make a break for it, and to meet by Jackson’s position is … a massive explosion,” said Stephens. “When the bunker towards the rear of the base blows, you run.”

“Also, ” began Moore, “keep away from any other buildings when the bunker goes up. They’ll start to detonate at intervals.”

“This is gonna be fun,” said Teacher.

“So, killing men in their sleep is fun?” asked Diaz.

“It beats working at a regular job,” answered Teacher.

“What are you gonna to do when this war is over, Teacher?” said Diaz.

“I hope it never ends,” he smiled.

“Stephens, here.” Moore passed the bow to Stephens.

The sergeant held it up to the moonlight that crept in through the tops of the trees. He pulled the string back a few times to test the force he’d need to apply.

Moore handed him back the quiver. It contained all the arrows, now at full length. Stephens fastened it to his leg.

“Okay, Jackson, get moving. We’ll give you a minute, then we’ll head out,” ordered Stephens.

“See you all soon,” said Jackson, as he headed off through the trees and towards a dirt trail that led to the entrance.

“See you soon, Jackson,” Buttons said as the private disappeared into the shadows.

“So, now that Cook and the Doc are dead,” began Teacher, “you making a move on Jackson?”

“What the hell is that suppose to mean?” said Buttons.

“You know what it means. I always thought you was a fag.”

“Teacher, shut your mouth,” Stephens said through gritted teeth.

“Yes, Sarge.”

“Make sure you kill the guys silently in the barracks, Teacher. Emphasis on silently,” added Stephens.

“I will.”

“You got a bayonet on you?” asked Stephens.

“Yeah, Sarge,” answered Teacher.

“What about you three?”

“Yeah,” said Cage.

Buttons nodded.

“And you, Diaz?”

“Yeah, I got one.”

“You’re not gonna go soft on me, are you, Private?” Stephens asked.

“Have I ever let you down in a battle, Sergeant?” said Diaz.

“No. No, you haven’t. But this is different. Like you said to Teacher, you’ll be killing people who are sleeping.”

“You don’t need to worry, Stephens. I can do it. I won’t enjoy it, like this idiot will,” he pointed at Teacher, who smiled, “but I’ll get the job done.”

“Good man.” Stephens placed an arrow on the bow but kept the string slack. “Okay, lock and load. Let’s move.”

• • • • •

They headed back through the trees, crawled through the undergrowth in a slivery line of men, Stephens at the head, until they came to the barbed wire secured by the posts.

He placed the bow and arrow on the ground, adjusted the CAR-15 on his back so it wouldn’t get in his way and removed his knife from his boot. He used the saw-edge on the back of the blade to cut through the wire.

He picked up his bow and arrow and slipped through the opening.

He crawled to the next row of barbed wire, pushed his bow and arrow through the loop of the circular tangle and was able to squeeze himself through. He was careful to not get snagged on the barbs.

Stephens got up to a knee and looked behind himself to see Moore crawling through the loop, behind him he could see Diaz pushing through the barbed wire he had just cut away by the post.

Stephens held the bow in his left hand and drew the string and arrow back with his right. He took aim at the first guard tower.

The guard tower sat to his right and an NVA soldier was leant against a wooden support with a cigarette in his mouth.

Stephens saw the red grow in intensity as the NVA inhaled. He narrowed his eyes and let go of the string. The arrow was silent and fast.

It pieced the soldier through the cheek in an upward angle and extruded through an eye socket, the eyeball stuck to the arrow like a marshmallow on the end of a stick. The NVA stumbled slightly before his back rested on the structure. He slid down to the floor of the tower and out of view.

Moore was now knelt by Stephens. Diaz was pushing through the loop and Cage was crawling through the hole that had been cut.

Stephens removed another arrow from his quiver. He placed it in position on his bow and turned to his left.

The guard in this tower had his back to the jungle. He coughed and it echoed around the ravine. An arrow struck him in his spine. Blood started to round the arrow’s entrance and his body fell forward onto the tower’s floor. The wood creaked.

Stephens heard two guards speaking in Vietnamese. He quickly turned and saw Diaz was by his side now and Cage was pushing through the loop. Stephens raised his hand and signaled him to stop.

Cage turned behind and signaled for Teacher to stop by the post.

Stephens looked towards the sound of conversation and saw two guards exit the sentry box by the wood gate at the entrance of the base. He removed two arrows from his quiver, turned his bow sideways, fixed both arrows in place, and fired.

Both arrows hit their targets. Each speared a guard in the chest. Both were taken off their feet, air expelled from their mouths, then they hit the dirt. AKs fell from them and clattered.

Stephens removed another arrow, fixed it in place, and turned to the last guard tower. It was the farthest tower away from him. He saw the guard reach for the spotlight.

The light flicked on.

Stephens readjusted his aim. The arrow shot and hit the spotlight. It shattered. Stephens fired again.

As the NVA raised his rifle to his shoulder, the arrow struck his helmet. It went right through and stabbed into his head. The guard fell from the tower and into barbed wire at its base.

They all sat motionless and listened for anyone coming to check on the noise.

No one came.

Stephens signaled for the men that still struggled with the barbed wire to keep moving. He turned to Diaz and whispered. “Move the men from the gate. Hide their bodies and then follow on to the barracks.”

“Yes, Sergeant.” Diaz kept low and in shadows as he headed towards the dead NVA guards.

They had all made it through the barbed wire when Diaz returned to the team.