Page 32 of Cry Havoc

“Really,” Tom said. “That’s too special. I can’t accept it.”

“You must. Tribal code.”

Tom reluctantly took the gift and slid it over his head.

“Thank you, Amiuh.”

Amiuh looked back down at his new watch.

“I glad the colonel not kill you,” he said with a wide grin.

“He tried but it was two on one,” Tom replied.

“Both youdinky dau!” Amiuh laughed a laugh that sounded like it came from a much larger person. “Number fucking one butbeaucoup dien cai dau.”Much crazy in the head.He laughed again and walked toward the Montagnard hooch to show off his new watch.

Quinn turned to Tom.

“You made his decade.”

“I can always get another watch. You think this gift was really a tribal code thing?”

“He might be screwing with you, but there’s no doubt you had to take it.”

Quinn looked at the Seiko on his wrist, a small Waltham compass affixed to its green nylon band.

“Meet me in forty-five at the brig. We’ll grab Charlie anddi di mauto the chopper. We’ll be in Da Nang in time for beers at the Delta Club. I heard Martha Raye is singing there tonight. I just missed her the last time I passed through.”

“Roger that.”

“And Tom.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t be late.”

Tom tapped his wrist

“How could I?”

CHAPTER 7

GRU Headquarters

Moscow, Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic

“ENTER.”

The door to Mikhail Lavrinenko’s office opened, and an army major in a spotless uniform stepped inside, closing the door behind him and coming to attention. “Major Kirill Dvornikov reporting, General.”

Blond with close-cropped hair, square shoulders, and a chiseled jawline to match, he looked like a model for a Red Army propaganda poster.

Lavrinenko was well aware that Dvornikov might look like the ideal soldier, but he had not done any real soldiering since training. His career had been spent on the intelligence track with a posting to the Paris Rezidentura, one that had produced exceptional results. Lavrinenko’s predecessor had thought the major had grown too accustomed to life in France and had taken the precautionary measure of recalling him to Moscow and assigning him to the Vietnam desk. His mission was to continue to stall American involvement in Vietnam, bog them down in the quagmire that distracted from the Soviet threat and fostered domestic division. The major had been so successful that he now oversaw all GRU operations in Southeast Asia.

Director Lavrinenko dabbed the corners of his mouth with a soilednapkin and dropped it into a drawer where he had just placed his jar of caviar and spoon, gesturing to the chair in front of the desk as he did so.

“I believe you know Deputy Director Penkovsky.”

“Colonel,” Dvornikov acknowledged the man to the director’s right as he took his seat.