Page 111 of Cry Havoc

“Then I should stay out of Moscow. If we are successful here in Vietnam, I may get my choice of assignments, and I’ll request something as far away from Moscow as I can. And you, Sergeant? Where would you like to go? I can’t imagine you want to stay here.”

“I have had enough of the heat. Somewhere cold where I can have a cabin but still be close to a city, a port city.”

“Well, if we can accomplish our mission here, I will do what I can for you.”

“Thank you, Major.”

“To that end, I need you to go to Saigon.”

“Saigon?”

“Yes. You will travel through Bangkok. The Rezidentura there will have your legend and necessary papers.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“There is a man there who needs to be killed, a businessman who runs an import/export business. He has been playing both sides of the fence for too long, and has recently fallen in with the Americans. While useful in the past, he can no longer be trusted.”

“Do you want me to kill him myself?”

“No. You will use local assets. It will be blamed on the VC. I need you to make sure they don’t screw it up. Never underestimate the ability of the VC to fuck up an operation. Look at Tet. They couldn’t even get the time zone right. They were slaughtered.”

“Why does this man need to die?”

Dvornikov took a bite of foie gras and washed it down with wine.

“Are you in the habit of needing to know why?”

“No, but the more I know about the target, the more I can be aware of his security protocols.”

“Details will be in the package in Bangkok. He may have a driver or bodyguard with him, but not a full security detail. The package will have contacts for local assets. Make sure they do it right. When you get back, wewill know more about decrypting MACV-SOG communications. Expect to be in Laos for most of the coming year.”

Voronin finished his Coke. It was quickly replaced by a third.

“Of course, Major. Then we will get you to Paris and me to a city by the sea.”

CHAPTER 37

Saigon, Vietnam

TOM AND ELLA DEPARTEDthe Continental Palace hotel in a motorized rickshaw. Ella preferred the rickshaws to the taxis, as she thought they were a much better way to experience the city. The taxis put up a protective barrier between the passenger and the outside world, whereas with a rickshaw you were a part of it. Tom was not so sure. Rickshaws seemed dirty and dangerous. Why pick that option when there were others available?

“We are going to be late,” Tom said, looking at his Rolex.

“My father was young once too. He will understand,” Ella said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “That reminds me, we still need to get that bracelet for your watch switched out.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

One block to the west of Lam Son Square they merged into the chaos of Bùng Binh Sài Gòn traffic circle. Through swirling dust, exhaust, and a clamor of horns and shouts they emerged unscathed.

Tom was astonished they survived.

“I must admit that I do like the Cercle Sportif Saïgonnais,” Ella said, as they got closer to their destination. “I have fond memories of it growing up. My mother loved it. It was a safe place for us. We could ride horses,swim, play chess or billiards, take dance and fencing lessons, eat lunch, even have what she called ‘quiet time’ in the library.”

“I didn’t know you fenced.”

“I have not given up all my tricks, Tom Reece,” she teased.

They turned onto Rue Chasseloup-Laubat, the beautiful tree-lined approach to the prestigious club, and drove through the gates.