Page 39 of Cry Havoc

“Oh, that’s good to hear. For a minute there I thought I was in trouble,” Tom said, flipping his original four cards to reveal the three of spades, three of hearts, jack of hearts, and jack of spades. “Was damn near tempted to go for a spade flush until I remembered what was wild. That’s a pair of jacks, plus the wild treys, so long as this last card isn’t an ace.”

Tom flipped the last card to reveal the jack of diamonds, “five of a kind”—the only hand that beats a royal flush and only possible if there are wild cards.

“I believe by Delta Rules I’m going home with a new watch.”

“Son of a bitch!” the Green Beret swore. “You are one lucky bastard,”he said, removing the Submariner from his wrist and handing it across the table. “It never even got to see the field.”

“I’ll take care of that. Pleasure doing business with you,” Tom said, rising to his feet and shaking hands with the Delta operator.

“Come see us at Phu Bai,” Quinn said. “We’ll give you a chance to win back some of your combat pay.”

“Son of a bitch” was all Lee could muster.

“Quinn, my wallet is heavy again. What do you say we head downtown to celebrate? We are on R&R after all,” Tom said.

“You’re buying.”

“Deal.”

CHAPTER 10

Da Nang, South Vietnam

January 29, 1968

TOM LOOKED DOWN AThis new stainless-steel Rolex, unsure if the noise that had roused him from his slumber was incoming mortars or the throbbing in his head. It was after noon.

The dive watch was attached to a black nylon band with two brass snaps on either side of the case. He would have to get a leather cover for it and possibly pick up a custom Olongapo stainless bracelet in the Philippines at some point.

He almost felt bad for taking the new timepiece off a fellow operator.Almost.That was another card lesson he had taken from his father. You always paid and, just as importantly, collected your debts.

They had taken a taxi into the city and celebrated the win into the early-morning hours. This was R&R after all.

It took Tom a moment to realize that the pounding was coming both from his head and from Quinn’s fist knocking on the door to his room in House 22, the infamous SOG Da Nang safe house, though Tom was now certain it was a safe house in name only. It was more like a private club located in the city on 22 Le Loi Street. The French-style villa, guarded by Chinese Nung security personnel, was part hotel and part bar, a placewhere the members of MACV-SOG could let off some steam away from base without having to worry their antics might result in them being locked in the brig and court-martialed.

The SEAL pulled on well-worn jeans and a dark blue T-shirt. He stepped into his Converse All Stars, ensured his blade was secured horizontally along the back of his belt and that his Browning Model 1905 .25 ACP pistol was in condition three. Without a holster you did not keep a round in the pipe. He then splashed some water on his face before joining Quinn in the hall.

“I’m hungry,” the Army NCO said. “We’ll grab a snack on the street and then hit China Beach for burgers.”

Tom pretended to shield his eyes and slid his Ray-Ban Wayfarers into place.

“Turn off that shirt.”

“Too bright?” Quinn asked, running his hand down his thick chest over a gold Hawaiian shirt adorned with brown sailboats and hula dancers. He wore beige slacks and brown leather Alden boots that appeared more beat-up than the jungle boots he wore on missions.

“Not if you want to blind the bad guys.”

“Let’s eat,” Quinn said with a smile, donning black Cool-Ray sunglasses.

They stumbled out of House 22 and found Quinn’s favorite street vendor, who set up just across the road from the safe house to take advantage of the clientele in need of a quick bite. They orderedcom bình dânand chose a combination of rice, pork, soup, and pickled vegetables. Tom practiced his Vietnamese by haggling with the vendor and then paid more than the agreed-upon price as a thank-you.

The mama-san would be the perfect enemy asset, watching and possibly photographing those coming and going from House 22, but her food was so good no one said anything. Plus, there were plenty of other buildings within line of sight that the NVA’s General Department of Defense Intelligence could use to surveil the building.

It was a beautiful day, and with some food in their stomachs to tide them over, it was time to hit the coast.

The two operators hopped a Lambretta three-wheeled taxi for a harrowing ride to China Beach. They showed the gate guard their military IDs and after passing through a few layers of concertina wire were soon drinking cold beers and waiting on burgers in front of a shack with a sign reading CHINA BEACH SURF CLUB.

Beach chairs were haphazardly strewn about the sand, occupied by service members in various stages of intoxication turning deep shades of red in the blazing sun.