Page 180 of Cry Havoc

“Special Agent Jon Dubin, FBI.”

Desmond’s eyes searched the room once again.

“She’s not coming,” the FBI man explained.

Desmond was surprised at his reaction. He was not angry or scared, worried or anxious. Instead, he felt an odd sense of relief, like a weight had finally been lifted. It was over.

Then in a quieter, conversational tone the agent leaned in and said, “Allister, today’s the day.”

As the man who had cuffed him turned him around and marched him through the halls of the inn, down the front steps, and into the back of a black Chevy Impala that pulled up in a cloud of dust, Desmond found himself thinking how curious it was that the G-man had used his first name.

CHAPTER 67

Saigon, Vietnam

September 1968

LAN TRI PHUONG HEARDthe buzzer, adjusted her red silk robe, and made her way down the steps in slippered feet to the ground level, where she opened the door for her guest.

Dan Eldridge looked worried.

It was late afternoon and the rains had come. Without an umbrella, Eldridge had been caught in the storm, and even though it was a warm deluge, he shivered against the elements.

She smiled and held the door open further, ushering him inside.

He attempted to give her a hug, but she placed a hand on his chest and shook her head.

“First you get clean.”

He followed her up to the second floor and into her flat.

“Are you hungry? I will make something for you?”

“I would like that. Thank you, Lan.”

She drew a bath while he undressed, adding lime leaves, orange peels, and star anise to the hot water, a recipe that quickly filled the room with a calming aroma.

“I’ve been reassigned,” he told her.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It could be, I mean, I think it is,” he said nervously.

“What can I do to take your mind off it?”

“A drink, please. I need a drink.”

“Scotch?”

“Yes,” he replied, stepping into the bath. He held on to the rim of the tub and slowly lowered his thin, pale body into the water.

Lan returned moments later and handed him a glass. He admired it lovingly and took a long sip.

“This is just what I needed.”

To the hot bath, she added scented oils, fig leaves, elderberry, tropical dogwood, and cinnamon. She stirred the concoction with a cypress-wood bath ladle and then used it to pour the warm mixture over Eldridge’s back and shoulders. Lan could sense his tension evaporating with the vapors, the herbs working their magic to relax his mind and body.

With his eyes closed and head resting on the edge of the tub, he shook his empty glass.