Page 134 of Cry Havoc

You do that, and you seal Quinn and Hiep’s fate.

Tom was thankful that he had paused to evaluate the trail. Had he been on the move, his heavy breathing and the squeaking of the rusted bike chain may have prevented him from hearing the rumble of vehicles approaching from the southwest, the noise from their engines blending with the ominous sounds of thunder.

Jumping from the saddle, he shouldered the bike and scrambled into the tree line just up a short embankment and disappeared into the jungle.

Moments later the convoy appeared. GAZ-63 Soviet-built cargo trucks. The four-wheel-drive trucks were painted green and had wood sideboards that were also painted green. They appeared to be empty and must have already dropped off their cargo deeper into Laos or South Vietnam. They were taking advantage of the low cloud cover of the monsoon to travel during daylight hours, as they usually only traversed the roads at night to avoid detection. Tom had read intelligence reports stating that the lead convoy drivers had the roads committed to memory, which allowed them to traverse the Trail under very little illumination.

Maybe they are traveling during the day because someone in Saigon is passing them intel and letting them know that there are no bombing missions scheduled for today.

Tom counted six trucks. The lead and trail vehicles had a driver and passenger, while the middle vehicles only had single drivers. He noted that there were no gun trucks for security.

They feel comfortable here.

Tom looked at the bike. At least it had gotten him this far. But if the NVA was using paved roads during daylight hours on his section of the trail, there could be more.

If it’s paved then maybe they are just using vehicles, and you will be able to hear them before you see them or, more importantly, they see you. With the bike you might not be able to get it off the road in time, but on foot, maybe you can use the roads and get off them when you hear a truck.

He left the bike in the jungle, hit the pavement, and started running north.

CHAPTER 48

TOM HEARD THE ENGINESwell before he saw the trucks.

He estimated he had been running for close to two miles. At the sound of the vehicles, he moved off the road and into the jungle, continuing to patrol north at a much slower pace.

I wish I had my survival ax or even a machete.

Don’t think about the tigers or snakes.

Fuck… you thought about tigers and snakes.

The noise of engines indicated that the trucks had stopped just ahead. He moved closer to the trail, the rain and wind of the monsoon helping mask his movement.

He saw the trail vehicle first.

Why had they stopped?

He dropped into a crawl, moving through the tall bamboo, thick liana vines, and palm and rattan trees with extreme caution, until all six vehicles were in view.

The convoy had not even bothered to put out security.

They felt safe this far north.

The convoy had come upon what looked to be a less than company-sized element of NVA in the road. Tom assumed their numbers were depleted in yesterday’s firefight with Team Havoc. They were accompanied by two men in bare feet.

Quinn’s face was beaten to a pulp, either by the NVA or the crash, it was impossible to tell. Based on how they were handling him, it was probably both. They had taken his shirt and boonie hat. His torso was covered in cuts and bruises. Even with his hands tied behind his back, Tom could see an unnatural protrusion of a bone in his left arm. When an NVA soldier pushed him with the barrel of his rifle, he stumbled, dragging his right foot.

Hiep, by contrast, looked almost unscathed, aside from the bruising on the left side of his face. His hands were bound tightly behind his back and his shirt was gone as well.

Why wasn’t Hiep beaten too?

Tom knew of Recon Teams that had been captured or slaughtered, all except for one of the “little people” who was left alive by the NVA, Viet Cong, or Pathet Lao to sow distrust in the ranks of SOG and Project Delta teams. The intent was to make the Americans believe that their trusted ’Yard, Nung, or Hmong teammate had been turned by the North Vietnamese. Perhaps that was their plan with Hiep?

But then why take him from the crash site? Maybe in an attempt to actually turn him?

Two NVA soldiers started shouting at Quinn and Hiep, prodding them in the back with bayonets.

Tom’s grip tightened on the AKM in his hands. He brought it up into a firing position.