Page 135 of Cry Havoc

He was about 75 yards away, concealed in the jungle. He would have the element of surprise.

And then what?

Are you going to kill what appears to be fifty NVA by yourself?

Think, Tom.

The soldiers kept jabbing Quinn and Hiep with their bayonets, moving them to the back of the third vehicle, where soldiers already in the backof the trucks grabbed them under their arms and hoisted them aboard. Even at this distance, Tom could see Quinn wince in pain.

What was left of the company packed into the beds of the remaining cargo trucks, which then continued northeast toward North Vietnam.

CHAPTER 49

TOM MOVED BACK TOthe road and continued to run northeast through the hammering rain. Even with the somewhat awkward satchel, the kit was relatively lightweight compared to the heavy gear that Tom and all SOG operators carried on missions. The NVA and Viet Cong were unencumbered by the weight of American equipment, which allowed them an advantage in maneuverability, one that Tom now shared. He was in enemy clothing, carrying an enemy weapon, far behind enemy lines.

No one would think that a lone operator would be on the ground this deep inside Laos. That would make the enemy complacent. Tom would exploit it.

Tom’s boots pounded away at the asphalt, eating up the distance between him and his teammates, the downpour washing away all traces of his passing.

The rain stopped before midnight. Tom pushed on.

The potent smell ofthuoc lao, a strong tobacco grown in the mountains of the north, forced him from the road three hours later. The smoke was carried on a light breeze, drifting over the earth as if preparing it for morning.

Tom dropped to a knee and froze, using all his senses to discern the source of the new odor, eyes peering ahead into the darkness.

The smoke was followed by a conversation in Vietnamese. Not loud,but also not hushed, the words were carried over the wind to the American waiting in the night. Tom guessed it was a sentry post or RON site a hundred meters or more ahead. He slowly moved off the road and back to the protective embrace of the jungle. There was no more he could do until daylight.

He put his back to the roots of a banyan tree that descended from the branches above. The unique roots would eventually become new trees. Tonight, they provided some comfort. Deep in the jungle, facing the trail, with the AK in his lap, Tom shut his eyes and was soon lulled to sleep by a chorus of insects and frogs, marking territory and attracting mates under the cover of a moonless night.

The jungle went silent just before dawn. Tom was instantly awake, but didn’t make any sudden moves, knowing that movement attracted attention.

Intruders?

Rain sprinkled through the canopy above. This rain was lighter than the monsoon of yesterday afternoon.

Tom stayed as still as he could, listening, smelling, watching. He stayed that way until the clouds and rain were replaced by rays of light.

Time to move.

He eased himself to his feet, doing his best to ignore his aching ribs, knowing that it did not come close to what Quinn must be experiencing.

Thirty yards into the jungle, with the Ho Chi Minh Trail on his left, Tom stopped every few minutes to assess the way ahead. One of those pauses allowed him to see the guard tower before the sentry manning it saw him. It was about 12 feet off the ground and attached to a layered system of barbed wire. Tom adjusted his direction of travel and moved farther from the road. He needed higher ground.

Probably mines and booby traps here, Tom thought.Don’t rush.

He could hear Vietnamese voices through the trees. Was it a camp? A depot? Tom knew the NVA had numerous depots set up along the trailto service the flow of men, material, and machinery south. Convoys could stop, rest, refit, refuel, and then continue on their journey.

He hiked east, the ground slightly increasing in elevation, until he came to a stream and climbed up a small waterfall covered in ferns. At times, he could appreciate the natural beauty of the country even when it seemed everything in it was trying to kill him.

The creek continued east, but Tom stepped back onto the hillside, estimating that he had enough elevation to see into the camp.

Take it slow.

The morning’s light rain had stopped and been replaced by a thick mist.

Will I even be able to see through this?

Tom identified a rock outcropping and made his way to it through the moist, gray veil.