34

A crane was lifting crashed and burned vehicles and loading them onto a huge trailer. Even the unburned cars that had escaped direct grenade hits had broken glass and were perforated with holes from bullets and shrapnel. The whole parking lot had become a junkyard. All the windows of the Grand Hotel, not to mention the front doors, had been completely smashed, and the anti-tank mine had collapsed a great portion of the wall, leaving iron reinforcing bars protruding from hunks of cement like bones jutting from the carcass of a dead animal. The portions of the structure in danger of collapse had been propped up with iron pipes, but the hotel was clearly in need of full-scale repairs. The American administrative agents had been forced to vacate the building, each section moving to its own unit facilities elsewhere in the city.

The joint investigation headquarters decided to relocate for the time being at the MAC compound across from the White Elephant. This involved the inconvenience of having to cross the river draining into Da Nang Bay in a navy ferry, or taking a lengthy detour over the smokestack bridge. The new makeshift HQ was a set of aluminum Quonsets, but at least they were all air-conditioned and much safer since inside a military compound. The American soldiers grumbled about having to eat at the military mess instead of enjoying the buffet-style meals served at the Grand Hotel. They expected some disruption and disorganization in their duties for a while, as it seemed likely the repairs at the hotel would not be done for at least a month.

The American officers also planned to rent a safe house near the investigation office on Puohung Street, so that the staff on external assignment would have a place to stay downtown. The Korean detachment decided to find a place to downtown as well. The chief sergeant, off-duty as was usual for someone with only about ten days left before shipping back home, went out to look for a house and called the hotel to report he had found a suitable place. Ahn Yong Kyu instructed the other soldiers to pack for the move and then went out to the Dragon Palace Restaurant. The sergeant was alone in one of the inner rooms drinking beer.

“The captain said he’d be coming?”

“Yes, I just reported to him.”

“You’re lucky to have found a house.”

“Hey, who do you think you’re talking to? But this close to going home—how come I have to go out and do the legwork, searching for a place?”

The sergeant cast Yong Kyu a dirty look. “Knock it off, I know you’ve been out on a leisurely tour of the PXs. Where’s the house, anyway?”

“I’m sure you know the place. It’s where the lieutenant colonel and his family used to live . . .”

“Huh, I thought that was a special case. That haunted-looking house where the Hong Kong boys used to live, is that where you mean?”

“Heh, heh, it’s the only place available where we can move in right away, and Pointer keeps on growling at me. Even a house like that is not easy to find around downtown. And the rent is cheap, too.”

“Have those bastards left Da Nang?”

“They’re probably itching to grind you and the captain up and eat you. I heard they moved down to Saigon.”

The captain, wearing his uniform, stuck his head into the room. Standing astride the threshold, he said, “Why don’t you come on out? Too much trouble to take off these boots. No customers outside here, anyway.”

The three men moved to a table by a window overlooking the street.

“So you’ve found a house?” the captain asked.

“He said it’s the place where the Hong Kong gang used to live,” Yong Kyu said.

“But it’s cheap, sir,” the sergeant quickly added. “Monthly rent is only two hundred dollars. How many of us all together? Six team members counting this kid and then you, Chief, and me, so eight total. Two big rooms and two small rooms, it’s what we need, at least.”

“Hey, I know what’s on your mind. Want to get ready to head home, don’t you? Well, that house has a big enough storage space, so go ahead and fill it up.”

“You’re killing me. You pounced on me when I just tried to sell a little beer. How much can I make by taking back a few lousy appliances and a couple of cartons of cigarettes, sir?”

“Enough of your whining. I’m glad you found a place. Last time I saw Lieutenant Colonel Pak, he and I drank a toast to peace and to send him off.”

“Did he really go to Saigon?” Yong Kyu asked.

“Pak went back home, but his brother-in-law and the Pig from Tsushima headed to Saigon. Da Nang is too small, and therefore inconvenient, that’s what they said. Those bastards must’ve gulped down a fair amount.”

“I wonder how much they made . . .”

At this from Yong Kyu, the sergeant wanted to show off his inside knowledge and said, “At least fifty thousand each, easy.”

The captain took a notebook out of his pocket. “So much for that. We had a meeting today. Sergeant Ahn, when are you headed home?”

“Well, I don’t know exactly, but my hitch here expires in the first part of September.”

“After you two leave, I’ll have to spend a few months on my own here. I’m afraid you’ll have to get separate lodgings until you head back. So much the better for you; that way you can work independently. One more thing, we’ve got no budget left. We’re supposed to get our food from the rec center, but there’s no time for that. Our living expenses are bound to go up with the rent for the house, wages for hiring contract workers, and so on. We’ll pick up some Korean beer and sell it in the market, just enough to cover our detachment expenses. When the new chief sergeant arrives, turn the work over to him. And since they killed that police superintendent, Colonel Cao, our channel to the Vietnamese, has been cut off. That’s something you, Sergeant, have to brief the replacement on. Lukas keeps trying indirectly to pick a fight with me. He mentioned Turen, saying they knew all about Sergeant Ahn and Toi’s activities in Le Loi market.”

“Don’t worry, sir. We know plenty about their dealings, too.”

“Krapensky was upset because he got another report from counterintelligence about NLF business transactions. You see, the black market is an area that can attract the attention of the top brass in the investigation headquarters. As soon as possible we have to submit a report feeding them some information about the NLF dealings in Da Nang, or at least something on their related movements. They’re telling me the combat capability of the local guerrillas in the Da Nang-Hoi An area is double or triple what it was. The Americans are going to restructure all their information channels and tighten up their network. Don’t get caught off guard.”

“Now that their support detachment has been separated and put on the MAC compound,” Yong Kyu quietly asked, “do we have to pass any of our own information to them? They don’t give us any information at all.”

The captain nodded. “That’s why you need a bit of military know-how.”

“I’m not quite sure yet, sir, but it’s possible they may change the military currency, sir.”

The sergeant grabbed Yong Kyu’s arm. “What? Are you sure? That’ll ruin everything.”

“Wait a minute. Yes, I think they dropped a vague hint about that at the meeting today. That was it; the PX inventorying starts next week. Even though they said it’ll just be a period of closure to do a thorough check of stocks . . .”

“There’s no doubt they’ll do it. I don’t know the exact date yet, but it’s in the air.”

“I’m in big trouble, now. Tomorrow I’ll have to run around buying stuff.”

“Don’t worry. If you don’t mind losing a little, I can bring you dollars for your military currency.”

“Sergeant Ahn, you and Toi need to bring me just one case. I’ll have to finger an NLF dealer or scare up a channel into their organization.”

“I’m returning home soon. If I interfere with their internal operations, they won’t leave me alone.”

“But you can do it in late August or at the beginning of September, and then take off.”

“Why?”

“I’m afraid they may change the chief of the investigation team. Krapensky’s term is almost finished. When the commander changes, I guess they’ll do a review and evaluate our performances. Besides, we’ve got to get them to think of our territory as a fait accompli. That’ll make it much easier for us to work.”

Yong Kyu thought for a while before responding. “I’ll talk it over with Toi, sir.”

The captain ordered a special Korean dinner. Then, almost in passing, he said to Yong Kyu, “Wait, I almost forgot. What’s her name, that woman they call Mimi, telephoned you. She wanted you to call her right away.”

“Who’s this Mimi?” the sergeant interrupted.

“You know, Miss Oh Hae Jong, the one I got to know because of the C-ration case.”

“Oh, you mean that bitch who’s shacked up with that Vietnamese bastard from the governor’s office?” the sergeant said. “Why don’t you coax her away?”

“I need her for business. She’s no ordinary woman.”

“She’s not ordinary at all,” the captain agreed. “There’s not a man of power in Da Nang she doesn’t know. I’ve given some thought to Major Pham’s dealings over at the provincial office, and I’m planning to hand over some information on him to the US investigation team.”

“That’ll cause a lot of trouble,” Yong Kyu said.

“Not for us, though. We’ve got to let them know we’re not all scarecrows.”

Yong Kyu neither confirmed nor refuted the captain’s remark, but merely said, sarcastically, “You have that memo thanks to me, so I suppose it should be used in some way. But don’t use it at too cheap a price, sir. We don’t know who’ll be coming in to replace Krapensky, but it’s not unlikely he’ll push and pull too hard at first. But then, scared at the roots that become barer and barer, he might try to cover them up. By that time, it’ll already have made a huge commotion.”

The captain shut his notebook and put it back in his pocket. Then he patted his pocket a couple of times.

“Neither the US Army nor the ARVN can ignore us now.”

Meanwhile, at the house in Son Tinh, Hae Jong was having lunch with Major Pham. He had been out with Nguyen Cuong to supervise the transport of the cinnamon collected between Ha Thanh and An Hoa. They were about to conclude some negotiations with a number of merchants in Da Nang. The price was not bad at all. Cinnamon from the jungle forests had always been a scarce commodity, and now that the highlands had been the site of fierce fighting for some five years, it was almost impossible to lay hands on any quantity of cinnamon. There were eager buyers from as far away as Taiwan, not to mention India and Singapore, and as many as you could wish for. They would stream into Da Nang with suitcases full of dollars.

That morning Pham Quyen had gone straight to the provincial office from the heliport and made a brief report to General Liam, adding that due to the business he would not be able to accompany the general on his trip to Saigon. The governor had told him there had been a change in schedule in any case, and that he should remain focused on the cinnamon operation. Pham Quyen was in a rather uplifted mood, partly at being back home after an extended absence, but mostly because the business was shaping up so profitably.

“How long are you planning to stay in Da Nang?” Hae Jong asked.

“I’ll be here through the end of this week,” answered Pham Quyen, all smiles.

“You know something? I have good news. The Americans are changing their military currency.”

“Is that a fact? Whether they do or don’t, it’s of no concern to us. The payment for cinnamon will be made in good old greenbacks, or in gold, at international rates—that’s the deal. Mr. Nguyen Cuong is the one with the exporter’s license, and he’ll execute all the business for us.

“Then you’re a mere laborer out in that mosquito-infested jungle?”

“It’s sort of a joint venture. The governor is the chairman, General Van Toan and I are executive directors, and Nguyen Cuong is, how shall I put it, the managing director?”

“Watch out for public opinion. I’m telling you, everybody knows what’s going on.”

“Everybody? Who are they? There’s nobody who dares to interfere with our work.”

Pham Quyen had a deep suntan and there was a growth of stubble on his chin, and he looked to be in better physical shape than when he had been on office duty. Instead of summoning the maid, Hae Jong went out herself to retrieve a bottle of wine she had put in the refrigerator to cool.

“Is there a moneychanger you know well?”

“It doesn’t matter whether I know them or not. If I need to, I can make them listen to me.”

“I’m getting started with gathering up military currency. And in the last few days before the exchange deadline . . .”

Quyen immediately understood. “Has someone promised you help?”

“Yes.”

“An American?”

“Naturally. In the finance office.”

“Not bad.”

“It’s better than that. If I handle it properly, we’ll make a huge sum. Military currency that can’t be officially exchanged is worse than wastepaper. You can exchange it at one-tenth—no, one-hundredth of the face value after the expiration date. Ten dollars go from being a thousand piasters to worth only ten piasters. Isn’t that something? What’s the rate now, honey?”

“One hundred twenty piasters to a dollar, maybe. But the black market rate demanded by moneychangers may be as high as five hundred piasters for a dollar—for greenbacks, that is. That’s why the moneychangers from all over Southeast Asia are swarming this battle zone.”

Hae Jong’s eyes sparkled. “Even with greenbacks, they’re making no more than fivefold profits, and we’ll be doing business that pays a hundredfold profits. Half of the gains will go to the American, but it’ll still be a lot, won’t it?”

“Sure will. When is the day?”

“Saturday.”

“Better hurry up, then. Are you going out? I know a moneychanger just right for this.”

“Madame Lin at the Sports Club is also in on this. I imagine she’ll hire her own moneychanger.”

Pham Quyen finished his second glass of wine, then got up.

“Time for me to head out. I’ve got to see Nguyen Cuong and some of the buyers. How about we meet at seven o’clock? We’ll go see the moneychanger and then have dinner together somewhere.”

“Which way are you going?”

“To Guangzhou Restaurant, near the Hotel Thanh Thanh.”

“Then drop me off on the way at Doc Lap.”

“What’s up?”

Hae Jong glanced back at Pham Quyen. “Oh, nothing special really.”

Hae Jong walked down Doc Lap Boulevard and then crossed the street. The Korean language signboard of the Dragon Palace Restaurant came into view. Ahn Yong Kyu was sitting by himself in the otherwise empty place. Hae Jong was pleased to see nobody else there.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you here,” said the old woman who owned the restaurant, fussing over Hae Jong as she sat down across from Yong Kyu.

“That soy paste you gave me last time was great. I don’t know how to thank you,” Hae Jong said.

“Shall I make you another potful? Today the stuffed cucumbers are just right.”

“Yes, please.”

Sitting across the table, Ahn Yong Kyu finally interrupted the chatting. “You asked to see me, God only knows why, but you aren’t even going to say hello?”

“Ah, sorry, it’s just it’s been so long since I’ve seen her. It won’t be too long now, will it?”

Yong Kyu didn’t understand. “What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you going back home?”

“In about a month.”

Hae Jong nodded very slightly.

“Is Major Pham still out on the operation?”

“It’ll soon be over.”

Yong Kyu was going to say something about the provincial office, but then he stopped himself, thinking it was none of his business. The moment he sets sail over that sea, everything in this place will become vague and sink into the darkness of forgetting, like an afterimage that gradually melts away, the darkness distorting and then dispersing its original solidity and bright colors.

“They say that in gambling the secret of winning is to quit while you’re ahead,” Yong Kyu said. “It’s much harder then, though. You ought to get away from this place.”

As usual, Hae Jong just let out a short laugh. “There you go again with your meddling.”

Then all at once she grew serious and looked directly into Yong Kyu’s eyes. “Haven’t you been saving up military currency for your return home?” she asked.

“No, not at all. Since my time in the jungle, I have no use for greed. The money I get, I spend it all here. Besides, I’m not making any money now. When I head home, I’ll just take my shaving kit.”

But Hae Jong did not seem to take his words at face value. Her cold eyes asked him why the hell he had come there and risked his life.

“Listen to me carefully,” she said, “there’s no reason why we should come all the way here just to be outdone by the Americans. I’ve heard they’ll be changing the military currency. They may have announced it today at their headquarters. As you know, the GIs haven’t been allowed off their bases since last week.”

Yong Kyu nodded. “We already guessed that much. Maybe the rumors will start to spread gradually tomorrow. Anyway, I appreciate your concern.”

“Isn’t anyone in your unit returning home before you?”

Yong Kyu thought of the sergeant and answered, “As a matter of fact, there’s a man leaving in about ten days.”

“What do they call it, a transit container allowance? What’s the limit on those when you go home?”

“Each of us is allowed two. All you need to do is take the stickers they give you and paste them on the containers.”

Hae Jong assumed a business-like tone. “Mr. Ahn, would you introduce me to that man?”

“To send goods home?”

“Yes. I want to ship some things to my mother and my sister. I want to make sure they are taken care of even with me away.”

For a few moments Hae Jong’s gaze was focused off in the distance and then she was back. “All your unit members have ration cards, don’t they? When the currency is swapped, their ration cards will also be replaced. If you buy all the items covered by the ration card it would make a few truckloads of goods, but if you stick with the high-value things you can limit the bulk. I don’t need any appliances. Help me partner with him. I can provide him with an unlimited supply of military currency to buy things, and he can keep half the purchases for himself.”

Ahn Yong Kyu let out a short laugh, as she had earlier. “That proposal will make our sergeant jump for joy, you can be sure. I’m afraid you’ll have to hurry. They say the PXs will start an inventory within a few days.”

“I know. They’re always like that. Soldiers can buy whatever they want until this weekend.”

“I’ll introduce him to you.”

“When?”

“This time tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow morning,” Hae Jong said, advancing the meeting time.

“We’re extremely busy today and probably tomorrow, too. We’re moving, you know.”

“Major Pham’s Land Rover is available, so he and I can use that car to shop at the different PXs. After the purchases are made, we can store them at Son Tinh.”

“Don’t worry about that; the house we’re moving into has a huge warehouse right outside.”

“How about ten tomorrow morning?”

“I’ll tell him. Anyway, will I be left empty-handed after building a bridge between the two of you?”

“I’ll buy you a new shaving kit, won’t that be enough to keep you happy?” said Hae Jong, suddenly breaking out into carefree laughter.

They left the restaurant and walked together for a while.

“What will you do after you get back home?” she asked.

“I don’t know . . . I’ve learned a lot here.”

“About what?”

Yong Kyu abruptly altered his tone. “Money sure isn’t everything, that’s what I learned.”

This time Hae Jong did not laugh. “Money is power, and freedom, too. In every country, the soldiers are the sorriest ones.”

“The guerrillas seem different somehow. Here and here don’t seem to be in opposition,” Yong said, pointing to his temple and then striking his chest with his palm.

“Whatever you say, we all live in a world of money.”

Hae Jong waved down a passing rickshaw and said to Yong Kyu. “I’m in trouble. Now that time is running out, I like you more and more. I’m going. Don’t forget, ten o’clock tomorrow.”

The rickshaw with Hae Jong inside lurched away.

Ahn Yong Kyu headed straight for the Bamboo Club. Compared to the Da Nang Sports Club, it was practically an open place. Vietnamese soldiers, American GIs, third-country nationals, even local civilians came and went freely there. There were no rooms, only a big hall with a bar in the center. During the daytime hours, simple meals and beer were served, and at the bar you could get standard mixed drinks like gin and tonic or bourbon and Coke. The hostesses worked only at night.

Many of the staff from the joint investigation headquarters frequented the Bamboo, and merchants from the new Le Loi market often came in for lunch. Prices were reasonable. It was the right sort of place for simple business affairs or to meet a stranger for the first time on a provisional basis, but nobody would arrange a secret rendezvous there. The location was excellent, right at the intersection where Doc Lap Boulevard, Le Loi Boulevard, and Puohung Street converged. Toi made it a habit to stop by the Bamboo at least once each day just to take the pulse and sniff the general atmosphere of the city. When Yong Kyu walked in, Toi was sitting at the right corner of the bar, half-facing the entrance.

When Yong Kyu sat down beside him, he lowered his voice and said, “What do you say? Was I right, or what? Tonight MAC will broadcast the official announcement from the high command. It’s already generally known on the US bases. By tomorrow, word will be spreading in town.”

“I made a report on it to the captain, too. It won’t affect us too seriously. But we were given an order to dig out a dealing connection with the NLF, you think it’s possible?”

Toi raised his voice, “What’s this? Has the principle changed?”

“My principles are same as ever. All we want to do is to prove the independence of our detachment.”

Toi tsk-tsked. “The captain is mistaken this time. You guys are part of the command structure of the joint investigation headquarters.”

“But the captain says Krapensky is to be replaced. And now that we’re separated, the new man will want a fresh evaluation of the Korean team, so he wants to set a precedent for independent operations. Naturally, after we give them the information, it’ll be the Americans who undertake the final investigation to confirm the accuracy of our leads.”

“It’ll soon be clearer who’s who, but I’ve been trying to see that the information is not wasted in an undiscriminating way.”

“I got the impression the captain is intending to use our memo reporting on the dealings by Major Pham and Nguyen. I didn’t tell him of our suspicions about Nguyen Thach.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s easier to aim and shoot when the enemy’s a little farther away from you.”

“That’s far from what I think, but anyway it’s a good thing you didn’t talk about it. Today I’m going to comb through the whole area from Somdomeh over to the smokestack markets. If you’ll join me, that is. But I’ll keep my hands clean of the matters that require reports to the captain.”

Yong Kyu was dismayed by Toi’s reproachful tone. “Listen, Toi, I’m a soldier. Don’t be angry with me.”

“You know, I get thirty or forty dollars a month from you people for feeding you some stupid information and my interpretations. And then I take a few morsels of goods from Turen and sell them on the market. Because it’s your business. But now I’m talking about business deals among the Vietnamese. Big scale operations, and very big risks. This may well be the last opportunity for me. I already lost an eye in this war. And I’m not getting any disabled veteran’s pension.”

Yong Kyu hung his head and stayed silent for a time. Toi again urged him.

“Ahn, I don’t want to cheat behind your back. You have no obligation to follow the captain’s request. You’ll be off-duty in a month, and then all you need to do is a little shopping and then off you go on your way out of here.”

“Anyway, it’s agreed we’ll work together to gather the information, right?”

Reluctantly, Toi nodded. Then, glancing down at his watch, he pounded on the table. “God, I’ve got to go see Stapley. The landlord called me. His son made it back home.”

“When’s the departure time?”

Toi finished the rest of his drink and patted Yong Kyu on the shoulder. “Tonight. You should come along, too. No sleep for us tonight.”

The two men walked over to the back alley of the old market where Stapley was holed up. As usual, they pulled the bellrope and the landlord came out to the front hall, looking half-asleep. This time, however, he swung the door swiftly open and waved to Toi. The two of them followed the old man into the kitchen, where wicker chairs had been set up around a long meal table. When the landlord said something in a loud voice, the door opposite opened and a uniformed Vietnamese naval officer appeared. The insignia on his sleeve were a lieutenant’s. At the sight of the two visitors, he bowed.

Toi spoke. “This is the landlord’s son who I told you about.”

“Let’s call Stapley.”

Toi went thumping up the steps. The landlord muttered, “Beaucoup sleep, beaucoup sleep,” putting both hands on his cheeks.

“He means your friend sleeps a lot,” the naval officer explained.

As he walked in, Stapley grabbed Yong Kyu’s hair and gave it a tug.

“We’ve already made a deal with your father,” Yong Kyu said, opening the business discussion.

“So I heard. I understand the destination is Saigon. That’s possible. And I’ve already been introduced to this gentleman.”

“He told me,” Stapley said, “that in Saigon there are many organizations helping AWOLs to slip out of the country. The European missionaries and civilians are doing that, he said.”

“That’s true. I know a Frenchman and a German who have been doing that. One is a priest and the other a doctor.”

“What ship are you on?” Yong Kyu asked.

“It’s an LST.”

“Then he can board right from the pier. We’ve discussed it with your father: ten thousand piasters to Nha Trangh, and then another five thousand payable in Saigon on the condition that you see that he get’s onto a boat from Nha Trangh to Saigon.”

The Vietnamese officer listened with his eyes blinking and then tilted his head. “I’m not the only officer on board, you know. I’m not sure about the others, but I cannot ignore the captain of the vessel. Let’s make it twenty thousand piasters here and another ten thousand later, and I’ll need half of the first part right now. You see, I have to get back on board my ship before nightfall. That way I can get everything prepared.”

“Twenty-five thousand, what do you say?”

Toi started talking hurriedly in Vietnamese. Then in English he said to Yong Kyu, “I told the lieutenant to keep the agreement we made with his father. I also told him about all the things we brought to his father since Stapley has been here.”

“Oh, all right, twenty-five thousand.”

With this assent from the lieutenant, Yong Kyu made a signal to Toi with his eyes, whereupon Toi took out a bundle of bills and started to count out the initial payment.

Stapley stood up and said, “Look, this is my business. Don’t be spending your money.”

“Hey, hippie,” Yong Kyu said, pointing at Stapley, “you just sit tight. What little cash you have you’ll be needing to open that pottery shop in Tibet.”

Once Toi had handed over the money to the lieutenant, the latter quickly handed it to his father, who began slowly counting it out one bill at a time.

“Now, let me go over the tricks to get you on board,” the officer said.

“What are you talking about?” Yong Kyu asked, his voice showing irritation. “You mean you won’t be taking him aboard yourself?”

“Let’s hear him out,” Stapley said.

“You know where we dock, don’t you? The outer port, what you people call Monkey Mountain, but the real name is Bai Bang. Have you been to that cargo terminal?”

“Yes, I know it.”

It was the landing where Yong Kyu had first set foot on Vietnamese soil. But when he shipped out they would arrange for a launch to pick him up at a pier downtown and take him out to the middle of Da Nang Bay.

“There’s a barricade in the navy cargo yard. The American forces, Vietnamese forces, and foreign ships each have their separate and exclusive areas. Boarding will have to be done after eleven tonight. After lights out, everyone will be in their cabins except the petty officer on deck duty and one guard team. At the entrance to the pier there’s a sentry post. The American shore patrol is on guard at another checkpoint inside, but they usually are watching their own separate gate. I’ll wait at our sentry post. Then he’ll walk with me toward the ship and climb up on the deck with me. That’ll be it. I’ll arrange a place for him to sleep on board.”

“Hey, that sounds simple enough!” Stapley shouted in excitement.

Toi and Yong Kyu asked simultaneously, “What about his clothes? Will he be all right as is?”

“What’s the matter with this outfit?”

Stapley, his hair and beard now long, slowly looked down at the T-shirt and blue jeans he had on. “I’ll just take this off,” he said, touching the pendant around his neck.

“Can you get an American navy uniform?”

“If need be, I can go get one right now.”

“A navy blue shirt over blue jeans and a blue hat will be good enough,” Yong Kyu said. “Still, that beard and hair would never meet navy regulations.”

“Exactly. Better get them cut.”

The lieutenant agreed with Yong Kyu, but Stapley stepped back and protested.

“No way. That’s why I’m running away. Nobody touches my beard. When I get to Saigon, I shouldn’t smell like a soldier or sailor. Passing by the sentry post, that’s done in the blink of an eye.”

Toi and Yong Kyu exchanged looks. Stapley had a point there.

“All right, but get some work clothes and put on a hat to cover the hair.”

“I’ll meet you tonight at ten o’clock at the Vietnamese navy gate. Now, everything is settled, right?”

The lieutenant shook hands with Stapley. Yong Kyu, Toi, and Stapley came out of the kitchen and went up to Stapley’s room.

“Phew, it stinks in here,” Yong Kyu said, holding his nose.

“Don’t complain. It’s the true odor of a human being. I barely get a chance to take a shower once in three days. And when I do, I just get a little splash from a bucket in the back yard.”

“Clean up the room, too.”

They looked down at all of the things Stapley had piled up: dirty plates, bowls, chopsticks, cans, a hotplate, and so on. All his clothes were in a bundle at the corner of the iron bedframe. Stapley sat down on the bed and Toi and Yong Kyu sat in the wooden chairs.

“Toi and I will see you get to the pier tonight,” Yong Kyu said.

“When I get out of this country, I’ll write to you from the first port I reach,” Stapley said.

“Leon wanted to come and say goodbye, but we wouldn’t let him.”

“He’ll win the bet.” Stapley acted like a man who had departed Vietnam long ago. “If not for the war, I wouldn’t mind living here in one of the seaside villages.”

“Right, thanks to American tourists like you, before long this place will soon become a hell of a place to live. You’ll turn round and round a few times and then end up back in your own country.”

“Ah, don’t tell me horror stories like that.”

“We’ll be back tonight. In the meantime, get some sleep.”

At nine that night, Ahn Yong Kyu and Toi drove over again to pick up Stapley. Instead of the van, they had deliberately taken the sergeant’s army Jeep, keeping the canvas top up. It was Toi’s idea, to get through from the smokestack bridge to Bai Bang without any strict inspection from the guards at the checkpoints. Toi was dressed in his army uniform and Yong Kyu had on his jungle fatigues. When they got there, Stapley was waiting with a small vinyl bag. He wore a navy work shirt and a blue work hat with a warrant officer’s insignia on the front. The beard posed a little problem, but he might conceivably pass for a seaman just back from a long voyage.

Stapley was not in a mood to talk much. They drove up White Elephant Street, passed the oil tanks with the Shell markings, and headed down toward the bridge. The area was lit up like broad daylight. Briefly, they stopped at the guard post and a Vietnamese QC came out with the American guard. Toi raised his hand to wave, and the guard recognized him and with a smile lifted the barricade. At the Bai Bang entrance they had to pass through another inspection checkpoint at the three-way junction leading to the pier and the naval headquarters, but made it through and headed down along the shore. On the left side there was nothing but the ocean and some barren yellow dunes, and the searchlights set up at intervals shone all the way to the pier standing ahead in the distance. Offshore, navy vessels and patrol boats of various sizes were blinking their signal lights. One of the searchlights whipped by and then slowly licked the surface of the water.

“Let’s stop up here.”

Toi pressed on the brakes. They pulled the Jeep to the side of the road and got out, then walked down toward the asphalt square at the entrance to the pier. A high wire fence had been set up and there were indeed two gates side by side. On the right gate, “Stop!” was written in red, and on the left “Dung Lai” in yellow. Yong Kyu said to Stapley, “It’s the left entrance over there. Do you see the sentry post?”

“Thanks. Now you two should head on back.”

“No, we’ll keep a lookout from here. Looks like the ship is up there by the red signal light.”

“Hurry up,” Toi said, “it’s ten now.”

When Yong Kyu extended his hand, Stapley didn’t shake it but instead removed the wooden pendant from around his neck and put it in Yong Kyu’s hand.

“Bye.”

Stapley gave Yong Kyu a friendly pat on the back and twisted his knuckle on Toi’s cheek.

“Good luck.”

Without looking back, Stapley walked out toward the gate. Every so often the searchlight glided by just offshore with a sudden flash. Toi and Yong Kyu stood there with cigarettes in their mouths and watched. From that point forward, everything happened in little more than an instant.

Stapley’s tall and lean figure approached the left gate and he exchanged a few words with the guard. Presently, the lieutenant appeared and went inside the sentry post. Then, an American SP emerged from the sentry post at the American gate on the right side. His white helmet was visible. He went over to Stapley and seemed to be asking some questions. Then, another American SP came outside and walked over outside the fence separating the two gates. Stapley walk around with the American guards, who seem to ask more questions. Then, suddenly, Stapley took off s running toward the pier. They could hear someone shout “Hey!” and what followed was distinctly audible even from where they were: “Come back! Stop! Stop!” then the sound of gunfire. Toi and Yong Kyu saw Stapley fall but could see nothing more.

“He’s been hit,” Toi said in a faint murmur.

Yong Kyu tensed up, ready to dash over to the scene, but Toi grabbed him from behind by the waist.

“It’s no use. It’ll only get us in hot water.”

From inside the fence the commotion got louder. Toi pulled at Yong Kyu to leave. They walked back to their Jeep, then sped out the way they had come. Yong Kyu gripped the wooden pendant tightly in his hand.

“Bad luck,” Toi said, gripping the steering wheel and staring straight ahead.

Yong Kyu wanted to cry, not just for Stapley, but also for himself. No tears, however, came out.