The Cover of War Read Free

twenties,
tens, and fives; but this time there was a small plastic bag of white crystals
- a drug. She used the money to fund her socialite's lifestyle. But she was a
fake socialite; a terrorist; a fake terrorist - a traitor. A child killer.
    Amai stuffed the
cash and the drugs between the buttons of her blouse and into the purse
concealed below her left breast.
    'What have you
got for me ?' Triet said, his focus business-like again.
    She handed Triet
a notebook. He looked pleased.
    The American she
got the notebook from scared her more than anything else in Vietnam ; the drugs were his payment.
Thinking of Golota made her shiver; his eyes were cruel and blue, and instead
of a right ear, he had a knot of scar tissue. Amai knew he could strangle her
with his bare hands and not even blink.
    'Okay,' Triet
said. 'You are free to go.'
    Amai knew she
was not free. She got up.
    'Avoid the far
side of the square,' Triet said, gesturing with his hand.
    'The basilica?'
    'A bomb will go
off there soon.'
    She went to the
tunnel and crawled inside. How will I stop Tet? She thought. Who will
I go to?
    * * *
    Danny sat on the basilica's steps, where in
the failing light, he could see the Trung Hoa's entrance. It had been ten
minutes since Amai had gone inside.
    Danny and got up
and walked back through the square. Her behavior had stunned him.
    She's in some
kind of trouble. It worried him. I hope she's
safe.
    Jabbering
Vietnamese voices and the beeping of motorcycle horns swarmed insect like
around him.
    He checked his
wristwatch and realized that he had only forty minutes to reach the Grand. As
usual, General Westmoreland would only attend for a short time; MACV's commander
was a busy man. He had to leave her.
    He reached the
far edge of the square and stepped onto the roadway. Before her , he had
never felt truly at ease with a woman. Girls in collage had called him cute,
but his experiences with those girls had proved them to be nothing but
conceited and scornful. At some point he had become a loner; journalism his
escape - the more exotic and dangerous the locations the better. He had flown
into Saigon from Palestine , his expedition there a failure.
Articles he had risked his live for had not made print. It was bullshit. He
knew in himself that his work in the Middle East deserved acknowledgment - even a Pulitzer. The lure of a Pulitzer
had driven him to Vietnam . He
wanted recognition. He was owed recognition.
    Meeting Amai had
been a spectacular stroke of luck. She possessed an extensive knowledge of the
Viet Cong: movements; infrastructure; tactics; and targets. Not only beautiful
and lovely and fantastic in bed, she was a fantastic source. With her by his
side, a Pulitzer would be his, but she was always too busy. He had tried
persuading her to work with him, but she wouldn't.
    The heavy air
shattered around him like plate-glass. A violent gust hurled him to the ground.
Heat scorched his back.
    He stared
horizontally across the road's surface; a blur of legs were running in panic; a
high-pitched ringing hit his eardrums.
    He got up. The
smoke tasted familiar. Cordite, he thought. Christ. A bomb!
    He ran his hands
over his head and face, thankful to find no blood.   
    Several bodies
lay twisted on the roadway.
    Fuck.
    He needed to get
his bearings. Instinctively, he felt for his camera; his security.
    Then he realized
that he could hear something through the buzzing in his head. He went cold.
       
Never in his life had he heard a living thing make such a distressing sound.
    * * *
    From inside the Trung Hoa, Amai heard the
bomb go off.
    She took a soft
drink from the barman, and waited. Her next task was due, and to keep up
appearances, she would have to go through with it.
    * * *
    Danny listened to the child cry.
    As his focus
returned, he inched closer, dreading what he might find.
    Then he saw her.
    Trapped under a
mangled Honda was a frightened little girl. They had ridden past as the bomb
exploded. The girl's mother was