They had about thirty minutes before dawn. The fog was thick between the trees, and the shadows were deep. But only for a short while longer. Sunrise in Vietnam was not like anywhere else Face had ever been. It was quick, and could catch a team off guard. If they weren't in and out before that sun came up, they would be operating in broad daylight.
Crouched in the brush at the edge of the camp, Face scanned the shadows. Only a few fires cast light over the sleeping soldiers – and the few who were on guard. It wasn't a small, team camp. Several of the men appeared wounded, but they carried no litters. The wounded must have been sent on ahead. Face frowned. If they were smart, they took the POWs on ahead, too.
"How are you guys holding up?" Face whispered to the Americans from the Mike Force who were crouched beside him. They hadn't slept in three days now, except for a brief nap while Face and his team had mapped their starting location.
"Fine right now," the man closest to him answered quietly. "But I ain't gonna be able to handle a lengthy run through the jungle."
"Here." Face handed over the bag with the rest of the white powder in it. "Don't overdose yourselves, huh?"
"Heh. That would kinda fuck up the plans, wouldn't it?"
"I'll circle around," Hannibal offered, pausing at Face's other side. "Try and see where they're keeping the Americans."
"Take BA and Num," Face ordered. "Don't engage unless you're seen."
Hannibal smirked. "I know how to play the game, Lieutenant."
Face couldn't help but smile at the irony. He clapped Hannibal's shoulder, just before he turned away and gestured for BA and one of the Yards to follow him. The bag – having made its rounds – came back to Face, and he considered it for a moment before opening and touching it. He licked the bitter white powder off of his finger, rubbing it into his gums. No telling what they'd come up against once the shit hit the fan. He'd need to be on full alert.
"Boston?"
"Yeah?"
He glanced both ways over his shoulder, looking through the dark to try and find the source of the answering voice. "Go with Ksor Hit and Rocker around the other side," he whispered. "We need to find out where they're keeping them, if they're even here."
"Gotcha."
"And make it quick. We've got less than thirty minutes before dawn."
Boston, one of the other Americans, and one of the Yards headed away without another word.
Face pressed down into the brush, flat on his stomach, and crawled closer to the camp to get a better look. If they had them, they weren't caged. Face wasn't sure he should be holding his breath on the idea that the Americans were in there. They'd followed a road; they could've had a truck pick them up and take them on ahead. If they'd made it up into the North, finding them would be nearly impossible. The only chance was that they were still here, now, or that they would be able to convince one of these soldiers to disclose a specific location where they icould /ibe found.
Face scanned for several minutes – how many of the men were awake, how many were asleep, how heavily armed they were. There were probably a hundred men out there. It was interesting to try and come up with reasons why they hadn't all simply called for trucks and moved on ahead. He backed up again, toward the rest of his team.
Rustling in the brush nearby caught everyone's attention, and a half-dozen guns were pointed in Hannibal's direction as he came close. Face lowered his weapon away immediately. "What'd you find?"
"They're here." No excitement, just a flat statement.
Face breathed a sigh of relief. "How many?"
"There's five. Bound, but not caged."
Face nodded. "Alright."
As Hannibal knelt down, Face sat up. The Mike Force soldier beside him sighed deeply, tiredly. "Okay. So what next, LT?"
The guards weren't expecting to actually have anything to do tonight – especially in the few dark hours before dawn. It took only seconds for Face and the four Mike Force to strike – soundless and clean, snapping their necks without so much as a strangled cry. As the Mike Force soldiers staged the bodies to look like they were still alive and well, Face and one of the Yards stripped two of the men and quickly slipped out of their own clothes.
Minutes later, dressed in NVA uniforms, they set their M-16s on the ground next to the lifeless bodies and grabbed two of the AKs as the Mike Force disappeared from sight. Face gathered pistols from the bodies and hid them on his belt, under his shirt. The bulges would be noticeable in the daylight, but it was still pitch black but for the few fires near the soldiers. Without a word, Face turned and walked confidently into the camp.
He looked casual, but in fact Face was as alert as he'd ever been in his life. Eyes scanning, he searched for any sign of the Americans. There were only shadows, none of them identifiable. Face sat down beside one of the trees in the clearing and put his head back, closing his eyes.
He waited nearly ten minutes before several quick rounds from an M-16 made the camp spring to life. Following the lead of all the soldiers around him, Face leapt to his feet. The camp was instantly in chaos. But one thing was clear from all directions: the Americans were nearby. They were under attack.
Face kept his head down and turned away from the firelight as he scanned his surroundings. It took several minutes to find them, bound and gagged in a heap, surrounded by frantic guards. A quick, sharp whistle went unnoticed by everyone but the one Vietnamese soldier that suddenly appeared at his side. Together, they ran to the guarded prisoners.
As they approached, the Yard yelled in Vietnamese. Face couldn't understand much, but apparently the slight nuances in his speech pattern went unnoticed. The soldiers all looked at each other, then half of them split off, toward the racket of firing assault rifles. With the guards cut down to half, the odds were much better.
Face didn't attack. He only gestured and out of the bushes behind the men, four dark, camouflaged shadows sprang out. With a spray of blood and a gurgling sound that could've been an attempt at a cry for help, the remaining guards fell at nearly the same time. Face turned his back on the scene, diverting the attention of the passing soldiers. Nobody even bothered to look in the direction of the bleeding guards as the Mike Force slipped back into the shadows.
Face took a few steps back. The sound of gunfire from both types of weapons echoed everywhere, but it wouldn't be long before the team would have to retreat. They would draw a good portion of the camp after them, but the others would come back. And they would quickly notice what had happened. Face had the element of surprise, but only as long as they were too startled to think about why they were getting attacked. Once conscious thought overrode survival instinct, they would be back in full force.
There were five prisoners, wide-eyed and terrified as Face – in an NVA uniform and with grease paint on his face – advanced quickly with a knife in his hand. A female voice shrieked. "Quiet!" Face hissed at her as he spun behind her and slit the ropes that bound her wrists. In seconds, he'd cut the ropes of the four men with her.
"You're an American?" one of the men asked.
"Yes," Face answered quickly. "Here." He shoved a pistol into the badly-beaten soldier's hands, and passed the rest of his weapons around to everyone but the girl. "Let's go."
They were no more than a hundred yards from the camp when Face realized they'd been split up. He didn't have time to react, hardly enough time to look back and see that the only thing behind him was the advancing VC. He stayed low, under the bullets that were flying in their direction, and kept running, pulling the girl behind him as he scanned for a place to hide.
The thicket was low enough to the ground and so thick that it didn't look like there would be a chance of fitting even one body inside, let alone two. It was exactly what he'd been searching for. He turned towards it, dropped and rolled onto his back, and used the barrel of his weapon to pry the vines up off the ground – just a few inches, enough to squeeze through.
The girl followed his lead, cramming into the little space and pressing hard up against him as he let the vines fall back down. Lying on his arm and half on top of his torso, she was breathing hard, staring out through the thin slits in the growth at the jungle above and all around them. The branches of whatever was behind him dug into Face's back and his legs were bent at an awkward angle. But he didn't move. The sound of her labored breathing seemed deafening in the enclosed space, and he turned his head a little to whisper into her ear.
"Don't make a sound."
Her breathing quieted and he noticed as he pulled her closer to him that she was trembling. He had to calm her down. Any sound, any movement, would attract attention to them. Their pursuers would be passing right over top of them. "Just relax," he breathed. "Close your eyes."
"I'm scared," she whimpered.
"Shh…" He held her tighter, slowing the pace of his words until the orders became an invitation – a tone that could almost qualify as a bedroom voice, soft and seductive. "It's okay to be scared. But right now, I need you to be very, very quiet…"
It worked. She relaxed just slightly, pressing back against him, and went nearly silent. "I'm going to get you home, safe and sound," he breathed right into her ear. His eyes were focused on the limited view he had of the jungle outside as he worked on making her feel like the two of them were the only two people in the world right now. "I just need you to trust me. Let me take care of you…"
The words coming out of his mouth were almost nonsensical in his mind, rehearsed a thousand times with a thousand women, all with a very different purpose than he had right now. But they were working. "Close your eyes, baby… Just close your eyes and let me take care of you…"
She remained still and calm as he watched the shadows shift in the dim morning light. He flexed his grip on his gun, fully aware that it was only a security blanket against the dozen soldiers walking right over top of them.
"Just listen to my voice. Listen to my voice and everything will be okay…"
She jumped as a yell from the soldiers above them echoed in the stillness.
"Shh… Calm down…"
Indistinguishable Vietnamese, and a few rounds of AK fire. What were they shooting at? They lingered for a few long, agonizing minutes, beating the bushes around them and finally, right on top of them. The brush was thick enough that the blows didn't hurt, but he knew it would take every trick he knew to keep her calm.
"Just ease down," he breathed softly. "Nice and slow. Everything's going to be just fine…"
As he whispered promises of safety too low for the soldiers above to hear, he held her still. She was trembling, but she didn't make a sound. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the soldiers moved on. Gradually, his whispers slowed, then stopped. Silence settled over them, and for a long time, it was quiet.
"Have they gone?" she finally whispered.
"They're gone," he answered quietly. "But we're going to stay here for a while until it's safe."
"How long?"
She wouldn't like the answer to that question. "A while. Are you thirsty?"
"Uh huh."
Relinquishing his hold on his gun, he twisted his arm behind him and grabbed a bottle of water from his pack, handing it to her. It took her a few seconds to figure out how to drink while lying on her side. There wasn't even an inch of space for her to raise her head. Finally, she passed the bottle back. He slipped it into his pack. He could still do without it, and they were going to need it later.
She was quiet, but her body shook with silent sobs as she lay still next to him. "You did good," he reassured her. "You did really good."
"I'm so scared…"
"I know. But you did really well." He paused for a moment. "What's your name?"
She paused for a long moment before answering. "Adrianne. What's yours?"
"Templeton. But you can call me Face."
***
"How long are we going to stay here?"
Face had avoided answering that question twice already. But it had been hours, and sooner or later, he was going to have to tell her. "Until tomorrow afternoon," he said quietly.
"Tomorrow?" her voice was weak, little more than a whimper.
"They'll look for us at least until nightfall," he explained. "But I suspect they'll break camp in the morning and move on. We can leave then."
She shifted as much as she could in the enclosed space, but there was barely room to turn her head, much less relieve the pressure points she was lying on. "Face?" She sounded like she was on the verge of tears.
"Hmm?"
"I have to go to the bathroom," she whispered. "I don't think I can hold it 'til tomorrow."
"I know," he replied quietly, sympathetically. "It's okay."
That had also not been the answer she was hoping for. He heard her whimper, and she shook slightly as she sobbed. She'd been degraded and dehumanized for days now, and he was sure that this rescue wasn't what she'd had in mind. But he wasn't about to crawl out of this hole until he was sure that it was safe. Getting shot now, when he'd very nearly pulled this off, would be stupid.
"I wanna go home," she cried.
"I know," he sympathized. Leaving his gun resting along his side, he brought his arm up, scraping the sharp sticks and thorns along the way, and used his fingers to pull her hair back from her face. The strands were stuck to her cheeks with dried tears. He still hadn't had a good look at her face, and he couldn't see her now. He didn't try to as he stroked her hair gently.
"When we get back to base," he started quietly, "there's going to be a whole bunch of people waiting for us. And you're going to take a shower and eat a big meal… brush your teeth and your hair… and go someplace safe with a nice soft bed. And all of this will only be a memory."
She sniffled. "I don't think I even want the memory."
A faint smile crossed his face. "Ah, but that's the nice thing about memories. You can paint them however you want."
She was quiet for a moment before answering quietly. "What do you mean?"
He sighed softly. "I've been out here in the jungle a long time, Adrianne," he whispered. "So long, I hardly remember what it was like to sleep through the night without worrying what was going to happen while my eyes were closed. And I've had to do some things out here that I wish I'd never had to do. Things I don't ever want to tell anyone about. And when" – if – "I go home, those are the things I'm going to forget."
"How do you forget something like this?"
"Well…" He closed his eyes, his fingers still brushing over her matted hair. "The first thing you have to do is accept the fact that you did what you had to do. You forgive yourself for it. The bad things, the humiliating things… you let them go. You don't make it a part of you. And you just don't talk about it. You don't think about it."
"How can you not think about it?"
"You lie."
"Lie?"
"To anyone who tries to make you think that you could be so worthless as to be dragged off by an enemy and… degraded. Anyone including yourself."
She was quiet. Finally, he heard her sniffle again, turning her face against his arm to wipe the tears from her eyes on his sleeve. "Were you ever taken prisoner, Face?"
He hesitated, and took a deep breath. "Yeah, I was."
"Is it… normal to think how you don't want anyone to know? Don't want anyone to see you like this?"
A slight smile crept across his lips. "Normal, and healthy."
"Really?"
"Adrianne, nobody ever has to know about what happens out here if you don't want them to. It's part of that whole lying thing. You can tell them whatever you want to tell them. And the only people who would ever know you're lying would be the ones who know why you're lying. And I promise you… they'll never call you on it. Because they understand what it's like to do anything you have to in order to survive."
She shuddered as a few muted sobs escaped her. "I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm so sorry. You're here because of me…"
"I'm here because of me," he corrected, letting his eyes slide closed as he rested his hand on her hair. "Because this is the life I chose, for better or worse." He paused, and slowly brought his hand back down to his gun. "And Adrianne?"
"What?"
"This part? Lying in the mud and waiting for hours, unable to move? I knew about this part before I came out here for you. And I still came. Because you're worth it."
She shuddered again, and turned her face into his arm as she cried.