Macv, p.13
MACV, page 13
He moved to the curb, waited and saw an empty taxi. As he raised a hand to call to it, the driver spotted him. It dived out of traffic and squealed to a halt inches from him. Reed opened the back door and crawled in.
“Where you go, Joe?”
Reed leaned forward, his arms resting on the seat in front of him. He told the driver where he wanted to go. The man glanced up at the mirror and then grinned.
“Sure, Joe.”
As Reed sat back, the driver rocketed into traffic, causing horns to blare and tires to squeal. He whipped around a corner, barely slowing, then shot around two Army trucks. The soldiers shouted and flipped him the finger. Reed wasn’t happy with the attention the driver was drawing to himself, but then people would remember the crazy driver and cab, not the American riding in the rear.
They came to a cross street and the taxi slowed. The scenery had changed from the stately buildings erected by the French, the stores built by the Americans and the structures of the rich Vietnamese, to the low houses of the poor. Concrete tubes that had been designed for sewers were being used as houses. Families lived in cardboard packing crates and wooden crates. A hundred people, a thousand, milled around with nothing to do. The air was heavy with the stench of humanity. Unwashed bodies, open sewers and stagnant water.
They turned again, this time onto a residential street. Reed had him stop the taxi a few houses away and paid the first price the driver named. He scrambled from the back seat and stood there as the driver took off, throwing up a rooster tail of dust and gravel.
As the taxi disappeared around the corner, the kids descended on him, hands up, demanding cigarettes, money and candy. He pushed through the crowd, ignoring them. When they saw he had nothing for them, they vanished as quickly as they had appeared.
Reed walked up to the door and knocked on it. He stood to one side, like a police officer searching for a crook. When Thi opened up, he leaped forward, grinning.
Thi was surprised. She let out a shriek and jumped back. But then she recognized him and began to giggle. “You frightened me,” she said.
“Good,” said Reed. “Everyone should be frightened once in a while.”
She threw herself at him then, hugging him. “You surprised me too. I did not expect to see you so early.”
“Things change,” said Reed. He separated himself from her and walked into the living room. He sat down and watched as she stood in the doorway, staring at him.
Reed raised a hand and she moved toward him. She stopped near his side and he ran his hand up the back of her thigh, up under her short skirt. He touched her silk panties and slipped his hand around her leg so that his thumb could press against her.
“You are in a hurry today,” she said.
“No,” said Reed. “Not in a hurry.” But he didn’t move his hand. He slipped his thumb under the light fabric to touch her gently. She pressed forward slightly and he could tell that she was ready.
Reed pulled her closer and then reached up with his free hand, dragging her panties lower. She moaned quietly and said, “We could go upstairs.”
“No,” said Reed. “Not yet. Not quite yet.” He used his hand and fingers, feeling the sparse pubic hair.
Her knees buckled slightly, forcing her body down on his hand. She groaned with pleasure. Her hips moved gently, no more than a couple of inches in any direction as she tried to help him.
“So close,” she said suddenly.
He pulled his hand away from her. Her eyes snapped open then and she looked down at him. “Why?”
“To make it last. To draw it out.” He rubbed her thigh and cupped her bottom as she stood there trembling. He reached up to unbutton her blouse. She shrugged it away, leaving herself naked to the hips.
“Let’s go upstairs,” she said, her voice husky. “Please, let’s go.”
Reed stood up and kissed her, first on the lips and then the chin, working his way lower until he took her left breast in his mouth. He bit the nipple gently, feeling it grow hard as she moaned again and again.
He unfastened her skirt and pushed it over her hips so that it fell to the floor. Standing there naked, her panties around her ankles, she pressed herself against him as his hands explored her body.
“Now it’s time to go upstairs,” he said.
“Oh, yes,” she said.
“You go on up. I will be there in a moment. I need to lock the door so we won’t be interrupted.”
Without a word she turned and fled. She ran up the stairs as Reed stood below and watched the flexing of the muscles in her legs and back. It was a pretty picture. One that he wished he could preserve, but he hadn’t thought of that. He should have brought a camera.
As she disappeared up there, Reed turned and locked the door. He then walked into the kitchen, found a set of knives and selected one. The blade wasn’t more than six inches long, but there was a point and it was sharp. It would do.
He slipped it into the back pocket of his pants and then headed upstairs. He found Thi lying on her bed, her hands behind her head, her body displayed for him, a light coating of sweat making it shine. As he entered the room, she rolled to her side and lifted one leg slightly.
“Hello,” she said.
Watching her, Reed took off his clothes, setting them down carefully on a chair well away from the bed. He then moved to her, gently pushed her back and sat down next to her. He kissed her mouth and chin, beginning to explore her torso. She was silent, taking it, trying not to move. As his hands and tongue probed lower, she couldn’t help herself. She shuddered, groaned and said, “Please don’t stop.”
He lifted his feet and stretched out next to her, finally rolling toward her until they were joined. He moved slowly and she responded, at first as slowly, but then trying to pick up the pace, slamming her hips against his body.
Both of them lost control then. They twisted around into a better position. Reed matched her speed and felt it building inside him from a hidden center. He forced the feeling down, holding it off until she screamed her pleasure. Then, knowing what would happen in a few minutes, he gave up his control, whipping his hips against her as he clutched her to him, biting at her shoulder.
They collapsed together, neither of them having the strength to move. Neither of them wanting to move. Their sweat mingled but didn’t dry in the humidity of Saigon.
Finally Reed rolled to his right. He felt her shift and lift a leg, bringing it up so that her knee was against his belly.
“That was the best,” she said. “The very best.”
“Yeah.”
They were quiet for a moment and then she moved again, sitting up. “We could shower and then go out to find something to eat.”
“All right,” said Reed, but he didn’t move right away. He turned so that he could look at her. “You’re so beautiful.”
“That’s the first time you ever said anything like that to me.”
“It’s true,” he said.
“There is something different about you today,” she said, reaching out to stroke him. “Less fire. Less hate. You are almost calm.”
“It’s being with you.”
She pulled away and stood up, moving toward the wardrobe. She took out a short silk robe and started to put it on.
“You don’t need that,” said Reed.
She tossed it to the side and walked slowly to the door, letting him look at her. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You coming?” She headed off to the bathroom.
Reed moved to his clothes and took the knife from his pocket. He followed her down the hall and caught up with her in the bathroom. As he entered, she turned and he stepped close as if to kiss her. She tilted her head and closed her eyes, waiting for him.
At that moment he struck. He brought the knife up sharply from behind his back and drove it into her stomach. She gasped in surprise and pain, staggering away from him. For a moment she was too stunned to realize what had happened. Her hands were on her belly as blood began to flow rapidly.
She stared at her bloodstained hands and then up into Reed’s eyes. She didn’t speak to him. It was as if he had handed her a snake. It was so totally unexpected that she didn’t know how to react to it.
Reed was surprised too. He had thought that she would fall down dead. That’s what happened in the movies and on television. Stab someone and that was it. A body on the floor. He moved in, thrust again and heard the blade scrape on the bone of her ribs.
Suddenly she screamed. She lifted her hands to push him away and then balled them into fists. She swung at him, still screaming. She tried to fight him off with the weak blows of her fists. Now he was frightened that someone would hear her. He stabbed again and again. Jerking the knife out and plunging it into her body in a frenzy. Blood spattered and spurted. It splashed against the walls and floor.
Thi fell to the rear, against the wall. Now her hands were at her sides. She was too weak to raise them. She glanced at her body, a crimson mess, leaking blood. She collapsed to the floor and turned her face to him, but didn’t have the energy to ask him, “Why?”
Reed backed away from her. He crouched in the doorway, staring at her body, watching the blood pool around her. He wanted to touch her, tell her that he was sorry, but his mouth was dry and his throat constricted. With a shaking hand he reached for a towel and wiped the handle of the knife, dropping it to the floor.
It was then that he thought of fingerprints. There was no way he could retrace his steps and wipe away all his fingerprints. Not after weeks of seeing her. It would be an impossible task.
He stood up and looked into the blood-spattered mirror. So much blood covered his body, too, that it looked as if he had been injured in a fight. He turned, looked at the shower and then stepped into it. Using his palm, he turned it on, adjusted the water and calmly washed off every trace of Thi’s blood, using the perfumed soap that she had been so proud of.
He turned off the water, dried himself, and carefully left the bathroom. He didn’t want to step in the blood. And now, he couldn’t look at Thi’s body. He could pretend that it wasn’t there, that she was alive somewhere else in the house, but he couldn’t look at her.
In the bedroom he dressed quickly and then moved to the window. At first he had planned to get out as soon as the deed was done, but now he decided to wait until dark. Wait until it was hard to see a single person walking in the gloom. Wait until all the adults were off the street in the neighborhood, hiding behind their closed doors. Then it would be time to get out of Thi’s house, but not before.
He sat down in a chair away from the window and watched the sun as it set, pretending that he was waiting for Thi to return. He was angry with her for standing him up, but he’d get over it. She’d apologize, she’d strip her clothes, and all would be forgotten.
That’s what he told himself. That was what he believed.
CHAPTER 11
CARASEL HOTEL
Gerber paced around his room, touching things but not settling down. Fetterman sat in the chair. Morrow reclined on the bed, a drink in her hand. They had left MACV, come to the hotel to shower and change, and then met in Gerber’s room. Maxwell had reluctantly agreed to keep their rucksacks and other gear locked in his office. Morrow had shown up unannounced, five minutes earlier. She had only wanted a drink, so Gerber had given her some Beam’s with a splash of water.
Gerber finally turned and looked at the master sergeant.
“It’s not going to change anything, Captain.”
Morrow watched, sipping her drink and didn’t ask a question. She had learned long ago that sometimes it was best to pretend that you just didn’t exist. That way people would sometimes forget you were there and say things they’d prefer you didn’t hear.
Gerber rubbed his face. “It’s really Maxwell’s job. He’s the one who’s familiar with the terrain.”
“I would agree, sir, except he’d have folded his tent with the belief that the Cambodians set the thing up and then were so stupid they walked into it too.”
“But I don’t see a way to get a handle on it. There’s no place for us to go.”
Fetterman shrugged. “Look, we know that the problem evolved after…” He stopped and looked at Morrow.
“Don’t mind me,” she said. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Gerber glanced at her and then said, “We’ve already said so much, a little more won’t matter. Besides, if I didn’t trust her, I wouldn’t have said a word in the first place.”
Morrow took another drink. “I take it you’re worried about the leak in MACV.”
“Yes,” said Fetterman slowly, as if surprised that she knew about it.
“Hell, Tony, everyone knows that the place is full of leaks. We’ve all got our pet sources over there.” She grinned and added, “Mine’s Maxwell, as if you didn’t know.”
Gerber nodded toward her. “Maybe she can help.”
“Tell me what I need to know.”
Fetterman stood up and walked around to the back of the chair. He leaned on it, staring down at her. “Someone is passing information to the enemy. We suspect that it’s one of the new people assigned there. The problem is, if we factor in the military types, which seems very unlikely now, then we’ve nearly two hundred names on the list.”
“But without them, just the civilians, then we’ve got twelve people to worry about,” said Gerber.
“Why not simply eliminate the soldiers?” said Morrow.
“Because that—” Gerber stopped. “You know, a word in the right place and we could get them all assigned somewhere else. The problem surfaces in their new location, and we’ve got our man. Christ, that’s simple.”
“So then,” continued Fetterman, “we’re stuck with the new civilians, and you don’t like that Reed…”
“Maxwell’s assistant?” asked Morrow.
“That what he is?” Gerber’s voice was tinged with sarcasm.
Morrow shrugged and held up her drink for a refill. Gerber got the bottle out of the wardrobe and darkened her drink. And then asked again, “That what he is?”
“Well,” said Morrow, “that’s what everyone tells me. Maxwell didn’t want him, but he was told he’d been assigned to him. Showed up at his door assigned to him.”
“If anyone listened to what the South Vietnamese said, I’d believe he’s our man. But who the hell listens to the Vietnamese.”
“Captain, that didn’t make sense.”
“It meant simply that the Vietnamese wouldn’t be able to force someone on us.”
Morrow stood up and walked around the end of the bed and sat down again. “So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t think that’s up to us,” said Gerber.
“Except,” Fetterman offered, “Maxwell came to us because he trusts us. We’ve got to do something.”
Gerber shrugged. “I only have one idea.”
“What’s that?”
“Get something to eat.”
The last of the sunlight faded, and there were no streetlights to illuminate the area. Reed stood up, careful not to touch anything. He returned to the bathroom, and again avoided looking at the body. Instead he crouched and picked up the knife. He examined it like an archaeologist studying a stone tool. There were flecks of blood on the blade, and Reed turned on the water to wash it off. He then left the bathroom, never seeing the naked, bloody body of Thi.
Downstairs he put the knife back where he had found it, figuring that he’d let the investigators search for the murder weapon — if they wanted it. A dead Vietnamese woman, one with a reputation of whoring around, probably wouldn’t worry the Americans much. The South Vietnamese wouldn’t care either. Just another dead whore.
He walked through the house one last time, looking for anything that could be traced directly back to him. Satisfied that no one would know he had been there, he let himself out, making sure that the door locked behind him.
As he reached the street and began to head toward the center of the town, the kids swarmed up, surrounding him. He grinned at them, tossed some coins off to one side and then hurried away. At the corner he stopped long enough to see that there were no adults visible. The adults would know that anything they saw would place them in jeopardy, so it was better never to see anything.
He walked along, feeling good. Maxwell had said that the leak had to be plugged and the soldiers would kill whoever was passing the information. He’d eliminated the biggest problem there. The only Vietnamese who could name him was dead.
He turned down a street, crossed to the other side and heard the first of the music coming from the bars. He walked through an alley, a filth-ridden area that stunk of rotting garbage and human waste. He heard a noise and jumped. The rat scurried for cover, disappearing into a rotting heap.
He laughed at himself and hurried forward into the brightness of the street. He stopped there and looked at the men and women around him. GIs with Vietnamese women. One man had the girl pushed into a dark alley, her skirt up around her hips, her panties around her knees. Reed joined a small group of men watching the two of them.
The GI finished and moved away, adjusting his clothes. As he turned, the men applauded. At first he was embarrassed, and then he bowed. The girl didn’t seem to care. She had been paid for her time.
Reed hurried on, waved to a taxi and climbed into the rear, heading back to where he’d left his jeep. After he paid the man and got out, he then walked to the jeep and climbed behind the wheel.
His task was clear. He had to get back to MACV Headquarters. He unlocked the wheel and then sat there, staring at the sights around him. He thought about the GI and the girl and realized that it was the first time in his life that he had seen anything like that. Oh, he’d seen college boys and girls getting it on in the office or in the dormitory rooms where they came to sleep. One or two couples going at it in the semidarkness, not caring if the others in the room could see them. But this had been out on the street where a crowd watched.
The girl had been good-looking, though he hadn’t seen that much of her face. Her hips, her legs and her bottom had looked good. Very good. For an instant he thought about heading back to see if he could find her, but then rejected the idea. For the next few weeks he’d have to be careful.
