Page 89 of Cry Havoc

“If there’s a spark, we exploit it.”

“We?”

“You. She will run her father’s company one day and could be a valuable long-term asset. She might be even more valuable than he is.”

Tom thought of the spark he had felt upon first meeting Ella in the CIA annex and then again on the roof of the Majestic. He wondered if she felt the same attraction.

“I’m not all that comfortable with this, but I’ll do what I can.”

“I know. And as soon as possible I’ll get you back to Phu Bai.”

“Thanks.”

“In the meantime, you can call the Continental Palace home.”

Serrano peered through the huge open window that overlooked onto Dong Khoi Street and Lam Son Square.

“That’s it,” he said, pointing at the white and yellow French colonial four-story building across the street. “It used to be called the Continental Hotel after a hotel of the same name in Paris. They changed it to the Continental Palace sometime in the fifties. They also call it Radio Catinat because of its reputation as a congregation area for journalists and spies. The bar in particular. You can see it from here. It’s on the ground floor.Open air. The drinks flow and they watchle tout Saigonfrom their barstools. They call it the Continental Shelf. It’s quite the scene. I recommend you try their cocktail of the same name. Are you a gin drinker?”

“I’ve been known to dabble. An old commanding officer of mine in the Mekong Delta lived on the stuff, which meant we lived on it too.”

“Well, be sure and try their Continental Shelf.”

“What’s in it?”

“A couple ounces of gin and fresh orange juice over ice. Half a lime. Shake once, that’s the key, and, if they forget, be sure to have them add more ice. Can’t have enough ice.”

“Good intel.”

“We’re the CIA after all.”

“At least you get the important things right.”

“I’m going to ignore that,” Serrano said, cracking a smile. “TimeandNewsweekhave their Saigon bureaus on the second floor, which is where I put you. Interior room overlooking the courtyard in case a bomb goes off in Lam Son Square.”

“That was thoughtful.”

“It’s also less of a jump in case you have to get out due to a fire or a coordinated attack from the ground floor.”

“Good to know.”

“This is Dong Khoi Street, here,” Serrano said, indicating the street in front of the coffee shop. “Locals call it Catinat. The hotel faces Lam Son Square, though most still call it Place Garnier, and that’s the Saigon Municipal Theatre.”

“Impressive.”

“The Continental is the central hub for meetings—journalists, politicians, diplomats, and the occasional soldier, though the military has holed up at the Rex Hotel down the road. They do their daily press briefings on the rooftop garden bar at 4:45 sharp.”

“I’ve seen them,” Tom said. “The ‘Five o’Clock Follies.’?”

“An unfortunate and all-too-appropriate moniker.”

“If they would quit the rosy portrayal of U.S. progress and be honest, they’d be taken more seriously.”

“We’ll see if that changes in the aftermath of Tet,” Serrano said.

“I think I’ll keep my distance from Rex. With all the military brass there it seems like an obvious target.”

“That’s a solid call. The Continental is also rumored to be owned by a family with Corsican mafia ties.”