“I asked Director Larkin to pull some strings with the State Department and the Vietnamese government for us,” Will said. “He came through. I just got word a few minutes ago. You were my first call. We’ll get to double-down on this one. We can see if we can answer some questions about the shooting that night, and we can bring an MIA soldier back to his family.”
Shel couldn’t believe it. His spirits soared when he thought about the ramifications.
“When are we leaving?” Shel asked.
“As soon as we can get mobile.”
“I’m on my way.” Shel closed his phone and put it away.
“Good news?” Isabella asked.
“I don’t know,” Shel answered honestly. “But it’s something to do. Maybe it can help Daddy. I don’t know. I’m going to try.”
Isabella smiled at him. It was a good smile, one that Shel knew he would remember.
Shel hesitated. “I don’t like leaving Daddy right now. Not with him in the shape he’s in.”
“Your father is a tough man,” Isabella said. “He’s going to be all right.”
“I shouldn’t be gone more than a few days.”
“If this is something you need to do,” Isabella said, “then do it. Your father has one of the best heart surgeons I know looking after him. And I’m looking after him too.”
Shel took an NCIS business card from his ID. “I’m going to give you my personal number. You’ll be able to reach me anytime.” He wrote the number on the back of the card. “If anything changes, I’d appreciate it if you’d call me.”
“I will,” Isabella said. “Promise.”
“Thank you.” Shel touched the Marine Corps baseball cap he wore. Then he turned and got under way. Max fell into step beside him, and the dog seemed to understand that they weren’t just going for the usual walk.
58
›› Phu Cat Airport
›› Qui Nhon, Binh Dinh Province
›› Socialist Republic of Vietnam
›› 1341 Hours (Local Time Zone)
“You watch all those movies like Full Metal Jacket, you don’t expect Vietnam to look like this,” Remy said.
Shel gazed out at the long runway in front of him and silently agreed. The city, looking very modern with the tall buildings that hadn’t been there during the war, flanked the airport to the southeast and ran deeply into the jungle. The metropolis fought the creeping vegetation back, and a few paved roads snaked up into the mountains surrounding the port city.
“Doesn’t look like the pictures Daddy took of the area,” Shel admitted. “He was here in 1967. The United States Air Force’s RED HORSE Civil Engineering Corps started building the airport for the Air Force use the year before.”
“Your father was in the Army, not the Air Force, right?”
“The Army worked the jungles, kept the supply routes clear, and flushed snipers and kill squads from the riverbanks to keep the PBRs safe.”
Sunlight glinted off Remy’s sunglasses as he surveyed the jungle that began immediately on the other side of the city. It was thick and tall and verdant.
“You ever fought in the jungle?” Remy asked.
“Nope. My first taste of action was eating sand in the Middle East. Did some work down in Africa. A few hot spots in Europe.”
“Me?” Remy said. “I wouldn’t want to have to run through all that brush and try to fight an enemy that had grown up in that type of environment.”
“I know,” Shel agreed.
“And most of the American soldiers in that war were nineteen years old. Away from home for the first time and dropped right into the middle of a fire zone.” Remy shook his head. “Unbelievable. At least you and me, we’ve been around the block.”
“A time or two,” Shel agreed. He stared at the city beyond the long runway and tried to feel his daddy’s footsteps in the land. It was strange, but he felt closer to his daddy than he ever had. This was his daddy’s battleground, and it was about to become his.
›› 1348 Hours (Local Time Zone)
“I hope you realize you’re in a unique position here, Commander Coburn.”
Will sat in the back of the air-conditioned limousine and stared at the heavyset man across from him. As a military man, Will didn’t like dealing with politicos as a general rule. Dealing with their secretaries and lackeys was even worse.
Ashton Finlay was a Yale graduate who hadn’t had enough pull to get a cushy State Department job. Instead he’d landed the Socialist Republic of Vietnam and wasn’t happy about it. Not many people had to deal with him, and most were likely not impressed. He was in his early thirties and wore good suits. His haircut was neat and he had a fresh manicure.
“How so?” Will asked.
Finlay blinked at him. “Getting the weapon permits for your team wasn’t easy.”
Will understood immediately that he was supposed to be impressed with Finlay’s abilities. “I suppose it wasn’t. You did well, Mr. Finlay.”
A small, uncertain smile pulled at Finlay’s face.
“Of course,” Will said, “given the fact that this country is filled with soldiers armed with assault weapons and that my team wouldn’t really have anywhere to run even if we did try to initiate World War III, plus the fact that the people in charge of this country don’t care that much about the citizens here, maybe that wasn’t as hard as one might think.”
The smile went away. “What I’m saying is that I stuck my neck out for you people.”
“Thank you.”
“I wasn’t even told what you were doing here.”
So that’s what this is about, Will thought. “There’s not much I can do about that.”
“I thought maybe we could talk.” Finlay leaned a little closer. “Just man-to-man.”
Will leaned closer as well. In a softer voice, he said, “We are talking.”
“I thought you could tell me what you’re really doing here. I mean, not just the recovery of a dead soldier cover.”
“I could,” Will agreed, deadpan despite the disgust that moved through him, “but then I’d have to shoot you.”
Finlay pulled back. He shot his cuffs and looked away.
Will nodded at the military jeep rolling toward them. “Is that the captain I’m supposed to liaise with?”
After a quick glance through the window, Finlay said, “Possibly.”
“Maybe we could go find out,” Will suggested.
›› 1356 Hours (Local Time Zone)
The Vietnam People’s Army captain was in his forties, a quiet and dapper man with an easy but professional manner. His uniform was neatly pressed and clean. His men moved immediately to flank him without a word and without offering direct challenge.
“Commander Coburn,” the captain said.
“I am.” Will stepped forward and offered his hand.
“I am Captain Cuong Phan of the Vietnam People’s Army. I hope you had a pleasant flight.”
“That much flying,” Will said, “is never pleasant.” He took his hand back. “You were informed why we’re here?”
“To recover and transport the body of a missing American soldier you believe is somewhere in the area?” Phan nodded. “I have been so informed. But it’s been forty years, Commander. Do you really think such a thing is possible?”
“I have hope, Captain. Little expectation, but hope.”
Phan looked past Will. “These are all your people?”
Remy, Shel, Maggie, Nita, and Estrella stood behind Will in a ragged line. Max sat alertly at Shel’s boots beside their duffels.
“Yes,” Will answered.
“So few of you?”
“I hope this is all that it takes. But I’ve got a few others en route.”
“Who?”
“Two specialty dog teams,” Will said. “They’re civilians trained to find historical remains. Old teeth. Bones. Clothing. Things that you’ll find at old, unmarked graves.”
“I’ve never seen dogs like this.”
“Well, you will if you’d care to come by and have a look while we’re working.” The dogs and handlers were due to arrive later that afternoon.
Phan looked at Will. “I have also found out, unofficially, that you’ve got another interest here.”
“We do,” Will said and wondered where the captain was getting his information. Will had intended to share it anyway.