Page 136 of Cry Havoc

The mist protected him from the eyes below, but it also obscured his view of the camp. He could hear voices mixed with what sounded like a generator. Morning mist had a tendency to clear out quickly and without notice in the Laotian mountains.

What if it clears out and leaves you exposed on this hill?

One thing at a time, Tom. One thing at a time.

From the noise, he estimated he was about 200 yards from the camp, but it was hard to tell. He would just have to sit it out.

Patience.

He did not have to wait long.

The sun warmed the earth, causing the mist to dissipate, the gray haze gradually ceding the territory it had taken at daybreak, eventually revealing the camp below.

Tom was a bit farther away than he thought, somewhere between 200 and 250 yards.

The camp was a depot, cut into a jungle that looked like it might take it back at the first opportunity. Various trees and foliage were sprinkledthroughout, making it harder to see from the air. Aboveground fuel tanks were set up at the far side of the compound. They were attached to pipes that led toward the trail. Thatched roofs protected them from overhead observation. A longer thatched roof that resembled a longhouse shielded the six trucks that passed Tom the previous day. It was the convoy that had picked up Quinn and Hiep.

Where are they?

They must be in one of the other thatched huts.

Tom could see two of the guard towers from his position but knew there must be at least two others masked by the canopy.

How many of these do they have along the trail?Tom wondered.

He pulled his map from the satchel and oriented himself. If his calculations were correct, he was well outside the SOG operations box, on the edge of the Annamite Mountain Range between Laos and North Vietnam.

Forty-five miles to the border of South Vietnam.

He made a notation on his map. As he was stuffing it back in his satchel, he heard commotion in the distance.

The door to one of the huts was thrown open, and a man was kicked off the raised platform into the dirt.

Quinn.

His hands were still tied behind his back, but his feet were now bound as well, and a strip of cloth was tied around his head, covering his eyes. Hiep was thrown out after him with hands and feet tied. He was blindfolded too. Behind them, three additional men were marched out at gunpoint. They were dressed in black pajamas, hands and feet bound with cloth across their eyes. They were taller than the NVA soldiers. Tom squinted. There was no doubt. They were Americans.

Hiep and the three other Americans were lined up at the base of the steps leading up to the hut.

Another NVA soldier emerged and walked past the prisoners. Heturned his AK around and swung it down like an ax, connecting with the back of Quinn’s head and putting him in the mud.

Tom settled into a stable seated firing position, pushed the selector lever down past the fully automatic setting to semiautomatic, ensured there was a round in the chamber, and moved the slider on the rear leaf sight to the 200-meter-mark.

Who knows if this thing is even sighted in?

He seated the butt of the stock in the pocket of his shoulder and dropped his cheek to the comb, finding the front sight.

If I’m at 200 yards and the rifle is adjusted to 200 meters, that’s just over 180 meters. With this angle, the round will go a little high. Compensate for the distance and the angle. Aim low.

Quinn attempted to push himself up and managed to get to all fours when his tormentor connected a kick to his solar plexus, putting him right back in the mud.

Tom could tell his friend was in bad shape. His left arm wasn’t working, and neither was his right leg.

Tom’s eye found the front sight.

Don’t do anything. You will get them all killed.

Hiep must have moved his head to allow him to see under the blindfold, because he charged out from the line, only to take the full force of the stock of the soldier’s AK to his face, sending him into the dirt. Another NVA soldier dragged him back into the lineup and put him on his knees.