Thunderbirds and the Tracy Family are the creation of Gerry and Sylvia Anderson
Chapter 70
If ever there was a time to keep cool it was now and, as 'Charlie' continued to file past, Scott tried to determine how many were in this party. He figured on ten to a dozen men from what he could make out. They prayed the men would keep on walking but as luck would have it the last two seemed to have stopped. The next sound was unmistakable. 'Charlie' was taking a leek. Jez rolled his eyes. Well, he guessed even 'Charlie' had to pee sometime but to pick this spot in the whole of the jungle, right outside their hiding place, defied belief and the concept of Murphy's Law, anything that can go wrong will go wrong, came sharply to mind. If the situation hadn't been so serious it certainly would have been funny, at least in Jez's mind, but then, perhaps that might have more to do with the morphine making him a little bit dopey, although he was fighting all the time to stay in reality. Scott, on the other hand, was a little more coldly clinical in his thinking. He silently swore and determined that should their hiding place be discovered it would be the last leek 'Charlie' would ever take. Both Scott and Jez, now though, did not need to understand the men's language to recognise the tone in their enemy's voices had become wary, having obviously heard a noise. Scott's finger tightened on the trigger.
Then, as if they hadn't enough problems outside their hiding place, a new danger presented itself within. From out of the corner of his eye Scott caught a movement and, for an instant, his cool composure left him. Beads of sweat formed on his brow and ran down his face, mingled with the rainwater that still dripped from his hair, for there, on his boot, was the thing he was least fond of in all the world; there, on his boot, sat a spider. Oh, not your ordinary, common kind of a spider, oh no, it couldn't be one of those; it just had to be one of those great big hairy kind of spiders, a Tarantula, as big as his hand.
Jez, too, had caught the movement and, drowsy as he was, looked worriedly to his partner, knowing his aversion for the creatures and saw that Scott was transfixed, his gaze firmly riveted on his new adversary. Scott was, indeed riveted, feeling his skin crawl as he watched the slow and languid movement of the creature's eight legs in turn and praying its curiosity would not lead it to crawl the length of his body. His natural, inborn instinct was to draw an audible breath and kick it as far away from him as possible but the predicament he found himself in, with the very real threat outside, dictated that he remain absolutely still and silent, though for an instant he found himself thinking he would rather face what was out there than what was staring him in the face. He was going to have to call on that deep, mental discipline that he now knew he was capable of.
Scott closed his eyes briefly and on opening them they had taken on again that appearance of cold, blue steel. Whatever had went on in his mind in those few brief seconds had transformed him and lifted him into that new level of focus. With his ears attuned to what was going on outside he kept his eyes firmly fixed on his new companion, now slowly crawling up his leg. Jez swallowed nervously, looking from one to the other and wondering how his buddy was doing and how his nerve was holding out.
What happened next was anybody's guess. Had the spider sensed a more chillingly lethal presence than its own and simply bowed to a superior form, that this object of its curiosity was no longer a safe place to be! They say creatures can sense fear, smell fear, perhaps then they can also sense a superior form that emits no fear. Had Scott Tracy, in his higher state of focus, simply willed the creature to change its mind, that this was not where it wanted to be! Who knows!
As Scott stared down his eight-legged adversary it stopped and raised its two front legs in the air as if deciding whether it should proceed any further. Having obviously decided it shouldn't, for whatever reason, it turned a ninety-degree angle, having come to a stop just below his knee, slid off and crawled towards the outer foliage. Inwardly, Scott let out a huge sigh of relief while outwardly maintaining his cool, calm composure. Jez, too, felt that flood of relief that accompanies a danger that has passed, well one danger anyway.
The two members of the enemy patrol were still outside and it was quite apparent they were arguing among themselves. Perhaps the man who thought he had heard a noise was being berated by the other for allowing himself to be spooked by the noises of the jungle. Whatever the reason, the next moment a bayonet blade came thrusting through the foliage and stuck into the ground just inches from Scott's leg, causing both men's eyes to go wide with alarm at the suddenness of the intrusion. If this latest danger persisted there was a very real chance that sooner or later that probing bayonet was going to find itself buried somewhere in Scott's flesh and their hiding place be discovered.
Salvation, though, came from the unlikeliest source. What had once been a deadly adversary became, unwittingly, their ally and saviour. The large spider had continued to crawl through the foliage to the outside and it soon became apparent to Scott and Jez that they had something in common with their enemy, that they too, seemed to have an aversion to the hairy creature. The next moment they heard high-pitched shouts, that of someone who has encountered something nasty and the thrusting stabs of the bayonet into the ground then relieved laughter. They guessed that their unwitting 'saviour' was now impaled like a trophy on the end of the bayonet, but such is life in the jungle, survival of the strongest and smartest and those with the greatest desire to live.
At that moment there was a rustle high above them, startled calls from outside then more laughter as the alarm cry of a monkey rang out. Seemingly satisfied then that that's what had been heard in the first place the two men headed off after their comrades, their voices fading as they got further away. Scott and Jez listened intently until they could no longer hear them; waiting even long after the voices had disappeared before they would allow themselves to relax.
Feeling more than a little stupefied by the morphine yet still on an adrenalin high Jez blew out a breath and laid his head back. "Gee…..that was close…..and did you see the size of that sucker! Scott…how the hell…did you manage…to stay so cool!" Jez asked in wonderment as he looked at his friend, though it was more of a statement than a question for Jez didn't give Scott time to reply. Not that he would have for Scott remained impassive. "….and hey…..I know he's not…exactly pet of the month but we owe that…little sucker…I mean…he saved our bacon….went right out there and…took the bullet…or should that be….took the bayonet, huh," he laughed, trying to be light-hearted and bring a smile to his partner's face with his macabre humor.
Normally Scott would have joined in the banter with his own dry wit so when he remained silent Jez studied him with a mixture of worry and concern. He had every right to be concerned, Scott's next remarks sending chills through him.
"It was his own fault…if he was dumb-ass stupid enough to go out there. He just didn't figure on coming up against a superior force," Scott remarked with chilling coldness, as he stared impassively into nothingness. He turned and looked Jez in the face. "He paid the price for his stupidity," he added sarcastically, with a faint matter-of-fact smile, as though he were discussing nothing more than a bad play in a second-rate ball game.
Somehow, Jez got the distinct impression Scott wasn't just talking about the misfortunes of his hairy companion but that of the two 'Charlies' who were stupid enough to get in the way of Lieutenant Scott Tracy. His heart went out to his friend and his partner for it was as though Scott was desperately searching for some way to justify the actions he felt he had to take.
"Guess we're not…talkin about…ole spidey here…..are we…..buddy……more like….two dumb-ass 'Charlies', huh!" Jez ventured, being able to see right through his friend and prepared to take the risk of incurring his wrath.
For the briefest of moments a chink appeared in the ice wall that Scott had built up around himself, the facial muscle at his left eye beginning to twitch being the only show of emotion he gave away as he shot Jez a cold and stony look. The cold steel of the blue eyes, though, along with the camouflage-painted face conveyed a primal fierce intensity and was enough to make any man quiver but as briefly as it showed it was gone again. Scott crawled on his hands and knees to look outside and came back. The light was fading fast and it would be time to move.
Scott carefully unhooked one of the plastic bags, now full of rainwater with the added purification tablet, and gave it to Jez, who gratefully took in great gulps, draining it completely. They could drink as much of this as they wanted and since there was no way to carry the open bag of water it seemed a waste not to drink it all. Tomorrow was another day and maybe it would rain again but even if it didn't they still had bottles of water and their hope was that after tomorrow night they would be rescued. Scott unhooked the other bag and downed its contents swiftly, putting the empty bags back into a pouch in his Vest. While they could still see, just about, Scott searched the backpack and pulled out the two black combat issue woollen hats, giving one to Jez and donning the other one. While it may have been hot and humid in the jungle during the day, it was a surprising fact that the temperature was somewhat cooler at night so the hats would help to prevent the loss of body heat, which occurs more rapidly through the head. Jez couldn't help the surreal thought that, with their camouflaged faces and black combat hats, they looked like a couple of daring Marines going on a night-time raid, especially when Scott then donned the NVS, night vision system, visor.
Scott reached into Jez's Vest, pulled out his visor and after having activated it put it on him. Technically, Jez didn't need it to see where he was going, since he was being carried but Scott didn't want him to feel he was blind in the thick, black darkness that would quickly engulf the jungle. Scott gave Jez another shot of his morphine before he prepared to move him and took another shot of his own. Now it was time to move on.
Managing to get Jez from their hiding place Scott, once more with an effort, lifted his friend in the Combat Carry and with the aid of the NVS headed south, after having consulted his map. The night vision system really came into its own now, illuminating the darkness of the jungle like it was daylight and giving Scott a good all round panoramic view. The bonus of the Thermal Imager would also help them evade, not their enemies for they would not venture out in the darkness but the new danger of the natural predators of the night. The only thing it would not show up, though, would be the cold-blooded reptiles, such as snakes, since the Thermal Imager relied on a heat source but Scott was fairly sure they would not encounter them as they needed the heat of the day to warm them, no, they would be curled up in their burrows for the night.
Even though he had the security of the NVS the jungle at night was a very different place from that of the day. It felt different, more dangerous and predatory and on more than one occasion Scott felt they were being watched. The jungle at night came alive with different sounds too, the predatory growls and cries of the big cats being the most alarming. On hearing one such growl and thinking it close by Scott took cover, still with Jez on his shoulder, and swept the area with the visor, looking for the tell-tale heat form before deciding it was safe to move on, realising that the call could actually have been carried for a long distance on the still night jungle air. Another night prowler or should he say prowlers made him stop and take cover, sending definite chills down his spine. Suddenly, there were shrill sounds and flapping of wings as a large colony of fruit bats rose from the trees; heading off in search of their night's feeding.
While the name, fruit bat or as they are sometimes known, 'flying foxes' due to their fox-like faces, may have conveyed a rather gentle sounding creature they are among the largest species of bat with a wingspan of 1.5 meters (5ft) or more. So, when a whole colony takes off from the trees, screeching and silhouetted against the night sky, they do portray a rather fearsome sight, reminding Scott of the giant Vampire bats that he and his brothers watched in old horror movies when they were kids, which is why they sent a shiver down his spine. Of course it is true that Vampire bats do actually exist but only in the jungles of South America but unlike the myths surrounding them they do not drink the blood of other animals, nor do they attack humans, draining them dry, only lick blood from the small wound they create and apparently the victim doesn't even feel that, as a chemical in the saliva acts as a numbing effect. The fruit bats though, as their name suggests, are only interested in a diet of fruit and nectar, finding their food in the dark by their amazing eyesight and highly developed sense of smell.
It was a welcome break for Scott as he waited for the colony to disappear, moving on and keeping going until he could go no further. It was slow enough going, Scott having to hack his way through some dense vegetation. Taking care to only hack at some branches to allow him a way through and not actually hacking a swathe through, which would leave a trail to follow, was time consuming and he only hoped his progress would be easier tomorrow night. He kept going, though, stopping every so often to take a drink from the bottle he kept in a pocket so he would not have to keep subjecting Jez to being set down and lifted too often. Every step he took now would take them one step closer to their goal and they would not have as far to go tomorrow should he encounter any problems, though just where he got the energy from he didn't know; all he kept in his mind was that one thought, to get them to safety.
It would soon be light now and unable to go any further he looked around for another hiding place where they could hole up for the day. He badly needed to rest for today he was going to have to get them something to eat that the jungle would provide, their dried rations all but gone. There were more of those seemingly hollow bushes and as Scott set Jez down against a tree he desperately hoped this one was the same. He had to work a bit harder with this one for there were more branches growing up inside but he figured it was worth the effort, knowing it would provide a good place to hide and it was also a good shelter should it rain.
By the time Scott got Jez into the safety of the shelter and set things up as before, hooking up the bags to collect whatever moisture there was, he was exhausted but he took time to eat, both men finishing off the dried rations. Scott was now a curious mixture of being hot and sweating from his labours yet cold and damp, his clothes still wet from the rain. Unable to light a fire both men lay close together to try and conserve body heat until their natural 'tent' warmed up. Scott fell into another troubled sleep.
Hours later they woke and Scott summoned all his strength, knowing he was going to have to go and look for some food. Jez wasn't looking forward to being left alone and Scott didn't like the idea of leaving him either but he knew they were going to need to eat to keep their strength up. Scott left Jez the assault rifle, just in case, knowing he was more able to defend himself in unarmed combat. As he exited the hiding place Jez begged him to be careful. Scott nodded and was gone.
Scott had heard running water the night before as they approached their resting place and now headed there in the hope of catching some fish. Keeping to cover he came to a good-sized stream of knee-deep flowing water and crouching took out a small tin from his Survival Vest. On opening it he pulled out a length of fishing line with a hook on the end and putting the tin back in his pocket he searched around for something to bait it with. Scott took out his knife and going to a fallen tree log began to dig out the bark, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth at finding what he wanted, a nest of fat, white grubs. He thought back to Survival Training and that awful moment when he had first popped one in his mouth; now he was grateful, now he knew he could do it. He lifted one, threaded it onto the hook and went fishing.
It seemed to Jez that Scott was gone a long time, the loneliness, pain and noises of the jungle all playing on his mind; threatening to make him go crazy. More than once he found his finger on the trigger, swearing he heard sounds, voices outside. Scott approached their hideout with caution now. Not only could 'Charlie' have found their shelter while he was gone but he was aware that Jez, in his pain-filled morphine-induced state, might just be tempted to shoot first and ask questions later at hearing his approach and not know it was his friend. From nearby cover Scott cupped his hand to his mouth and gave a barking sound, their signal, and waited for the reply. Jez had been dozing but lifted his head sharply on hearing the familiar call and sighed with relief, gladly giving the reply.
"Sure glad to…see you back…buddy…..how'd ya do……good day's fishin!" he quipped, feeling somewhat dopey.
Scott dropped the large leaf parcel on the floor of their shelter. Jez stared at it a while and gulped, wondering what 'goodies' his partner had managed to find and suddenly not finding himself very hungry. Without a word Scott unwrapped the parcel, took out his knife and began cutting up the fish he had caught, giving some to Jez along with edible roots he had found and yes, much to Jez's stomach churning delight, fat, white grubs. They had all been given a familiarisation course when they had first arrived at Da Nang Air Base as to what plants, animals and insects they could safely eat and which they should avoid if they were ever unlucky enough to find themselves forced down in the jungle. Thanks now to Lieutenant Scott Tracy's hunting skills they would not go hungry, that is, of course, only if they choose to eat the fare that the jungle offered them.
Jez just about managed to eat the raw fish, not being able to light a fire for cooking, he even managed to chew the edible roots but when it came to the fare that was still alive and wriggling he felt he had had enough. Scott had no such qualms, hungrily devouring the fish and roots, which also provided a certain amount of liquid, he popped the grubs in his mouth without a second thought, knowing he would eat just about anything if it were to keep him alive. It hadn't escaped Scott's notice his 2nd Lieutenant wasn't quite so hungry anymore. He pushed the leaf plate with its contents in front of him.
"Eat," was the simple, straightforward yet very firm command.
"Aw gee….buddy….I'm so full...couldn't eat another thing…..but hey….don't let me stop ya…..you just be my guest….have my…share," Jez offered, the effects of the morphine making him very amiable indeed.
But Scott was having none of it. "They're full of protein……now just eat, Jez…..and that's an order...or do I have to put them in there personally," Scott stated in a very cool and decisive tone, making Jez look woozily at his partner.
"You would too….wouldn't ya…buddy," Jez responded with a wry grin.
"You'd better believe it….now just eat will ya," Scott replied determinedly.
Jez screwed up his face and closed his eyes as he put one in his mouth and chewed, then another and another. When they had finished their meal Scott took his knife and after digging a hole in the corner of the bush 'tent' buried the remains of the fish, not wishing the smell to attract unwanted visitors. He had also only caught enough for them to eat one meal, for the same reason, that the strong smell of fish, especially lying for any length of time in the heat of the day, could attract predators after an easy meal. He had brought back enough grubs, though, and roots to last another meal, and now wrapped them up safely in the leaf parcel to prevent their escape; for fresher meat, though, he would just have to go out again later. Unhooking the bags from the branch roof they were able to drink from the purified moisture that had collected and though it wasn't as much as the previous rainwater it provided them with the much needed fluids their bodies needed.
After resting Scott went foraging again late that afternoon, making Jez's eyes go wide when he returned with his latest prize, a non-venomous snake. Scott lost no time in drawing his machete, taking of its head then slicing down its underbelly and peeling off the skin, chopping it decisively in half and giving Jez his portion. It was Scott, again, who led the way in eating the jungle cuisine, not taking time to think about it, just doing what he had to do to survive. Jez reluctantly followed suit.
Once they had finished Scott pulled out the datapad, studying the latest map of the area, frowning as he did so.
"What is it, Scott….you look kinda….worried," Jez asked, not that far gone that he didn't recognise his friend's concern.
"There's a village near here…..I need to check it out, Jez……if 'Charlie's' there we're gonna have to give it a wide berth….it'll add time on to our journey," Scott explained. "I'll leave you the weapon…I'll get back to you soon as I can," he added with confidence.
Jez couldn't help the bad feeling that once more reared its ugly head but then, maybe, it was just wishing they didn't have to be separated again, cursing himself for having gotten injured and knowing he was a burden to his friend. After getting another shot of his morphine Jez urged his friend to be careful, to which Scott gave him a weak smile and a nod, then he was gone.
It was only once he was outside and straightened up that Scott sucked in a breath and clutched his side, quickly giving himself a shot of pain relief before moving off stealthily in the direction of the village. It was mid evening, still light enough to see, when he was stopped in his tracks by a sudden noise, sending him down into cover. A movement came from above in the tree opposite and he stood now with a curious look of fascination on his face. For there, sitting on a branch and watching him with equal curiosity, was the funniest looking little creature he had ever seen. It was a surreal moment, for here he was, in a dangerous situation, in hostile territory, his buddy hurt but he couldn't help but be captivated by what he was looking at, as though he were spending a lazy afternoon at the zoo.
What had so captivated his attention? Sitting on the branch was a Red Shanked Douc Langur, a member of the monkey family and native only to the jungles of Vietnam and neighbouring Laos, and what was it about the little fellow that had coaxed the glimmer of a smile from the young Lieutenant that found he had very little to smile about? The creature looked just like a potbellied little old man with a gray 'shirt', black 'pants' and white elbow-length 'gloves' with little black hands and feet; his face a vivid shade of red and yellow, framed by a white fringe. His long white tail hung down behind him from the branch. Their potbellies are due to the fact they have several sacs in their stomachs to help them digest the many leaves that is their diet and that has the rather embarrassing effect of producing gas, which in turn triggers that other rather embarrassing human trait, the burp! They had been told of the things they could expect to see if they were lost in the jungle and they had been told of the curious little native monkey but that it would be rare if one was ever caught sight of, yet here he was, eyeball to eyeball with the funny little fellow. The little guy seemed equally fascinated with his odd encounter and the two watched each other for what felt like a long time, in truth though, it was only moments. The next instant the 'potbellied little old man' opened his mouth, presumably to give an alarm cry, only to produce a rather loud burp, causing Scott to have to hold in a laugh. His sudden movement, in turn though, caused the little guy to give a startled bark and bound away through the branches to a higher perch. Scott tried to follow his progress and was rewarded with the very rare sight of seeing a whole troupe of the Langurs skipping their way through the trees, having reacted to the 'lookout's' alarm call. Scott shook his head with a little laugh and resumed his mission.
From his concealed position on the edge of the jungle Scott now had a clear view of the village across the open ground of a paddy field, which grew enough rice to feed the villagers. It was just a small village of no more than a dozen huts, a few ducks running round waddling and quacking, being chased by a couple of scrawny dogs. Something wasn't quite right, though. Apart from the sound of the animals it was quiet, too quiet for Scott's liking. Where were all the people?
As if in answer to his question the next moment was filled with the sound of shouts and screams as terrified villagers poured out of the largest of the huts in the center of the village, which Scott took to be the village meeting place. He frowned in concern and silently slipping on his NVS, pulled down the visor and adjusted the settings. Instantly he had a zoomed-in view of the village as though he were only meters away and soon saw that his worst fears were confirmed. Behind the villagers, pushing and shoving them into the central area, herding them like frightened sheep were, he counted, ten enemy soldiers.
Scott's facial muscles tightened, along with his fists, his cold, impassive aura starting to slip at witnessing the rough treatment of these gentle people who enjoyed just a simple life. Thinking ahead Scott reached up and activated the record option on his NVS. Then, from a nearby hut there strode a rather arrogant looking man, dressed in an officer's uniform, complete with sword hanging at his side. Although Scott couldn't hear him from where he was he could see that the officer was addressing the villagers, or maybe that should be more like shouting at them, making them cower and cringe. He continued to watch from his hiding place and next moment, from the better of the private huts, an elderly man was roughly dragged and forced to his knees in front of the sneering officer. Scott assumed he must be the Head Man of the village, his face tightening even more at how the elderly man was being treated.
The officer began shouting at the old man then slapping him hard across the face with the back of his hand in front of the frightened people. This was obviously to intimidate and terrorise and Scott was finding it nearly impossible to remain where he was without wading in to help these defenceless people. He put his hand down to his side and realised he had left the automatic weapon with Jez, the only weapons he had being his knife and the machete. He knew though, realistically, he wouldn't have gotten even half way across that paddy field before he would have been cut down or, at least, wounded and captured and his greater loyalty, right at this moment, was to his partner Jez and getting him out of here.
The most good he could do now was to record what was happening. Rumours had been rife that villages in the north were being terrorised by enemy soldiers but, of course, there had never been any witnesses to that fact and no one was willing to speak out. The United Nations, for quite a while now, had been trying to force the National Assembly of Vietnam to take positive action but their diplomatic response had always been 'there was no evidence of that'. Well, now he was going to give them their evidence and, perhaps then, the United Nations could force the hand of the National Assembly but even Scott was not prepared for what he was about to witness.
The officer was obviously wanting to know something, shouting at the old man and continuing to strike him, until the old man pointed in the direction of the far side of the village, away from Scott's position. He wished the NVS could have picked up what they were saying but at that distance it was impossible, not for him to understand them; it would be passed on to Intelligence where it could be translated. Scott deduced the old man was being asked about the American plane that was shot down, that being the general direction where it would have eventually crashed and, perhaps, had they seen the two American airmen, as now the old man was frantically shaking his head. He got another strike across the face for that.
The officer looked around the scared and frightened villagers with a smug look of satisfaction, prepared now to impose his will upon them and to make sure they never forgot who was in control here. He barked a signal and one of his men came rushing forward, grabbed the elderly man by the hair and roughly pulled his head forward and down. Scott's heart began to pump harder, his eyes narrowed and he was starting to get a bad feeling, a sickening thought about what was going to happen. Surely he wouldn't, surely that sort of barbaric act just did not happen in this day and age. He forced himself to watch, to record everything.
Evil eyes glinted as the sharp sword was drawn then the officer, placing his two hands firmly on the handle, raised it above his head amid the cries and screams of the women and children. The sword fell.
